tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44308168872215995772024-03-13T19:37:06.749-07:00Desert DeliberationsA quiet blog about our lives together on this planet by an American Orthodox Christian woman simply standing in the pews.Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-65121351904714398972020-12-30T08:04:00.001-07:002020-12-30T08:05:05.577-07:00A Missing Generation in Orthodox America - Concluding Thoughts<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidYrgORtOXFjd-idappGpKwppAwmMcYZdBFSD8a3gsMum9y6J6uWlkOal5bwu7epOwg7ghp4kVKr0W3zlV1gqUzddOGLC38OOtg9y3iPSaPD75qfii-nHIIoJh8Y7s1U5cN5omDXLXy1LE/s1254/iStock-1289508690.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="836" data-original-width="1254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidYrgORtOXFjd-idappGpKwppAwmMcYZdBFSD8a3gsMum9y6J6uWlkOal5bwu7epOwg7ghp4kVKr0W3zlV1gqUzddOGLC38OOtg9y3iPSaPD75qfii-nHIIoJh8Y7s1U5cN5omDXLXy1LE/s320/iStock-1289508690.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>That last post didn't complete my story. I didn't suddenly become holy or righteous or perfect or so happy or whatever people assume happens next. What did happen was healing. And I can't really explain <i>how</i> it happened or give you a timetable, but with my return to the Church and intentional and conscious participation in the Church's mysteries, I am healing, I am <i>being</i> saved. That is salvation. <p></p><p>As an aside, I haven't received any psychological counseling (which there is nothing wrong with by the way). I don't take medications, I don't do drugs nor do I drink regularly (except for an occasional glass or two of wine). I'm not exceedingly wealthy without financial cares. I say this so that you can understand that there isn't any other explanation for this transformation of the damaged young woman that I once was. The insane crippling anxiety diminished considerably after my first honest confession. It was and remains a mystery. And while it is unexplainable, I know nothing to be truer. As God as my witness, I'm not lying about this. He was there, He knows. And the most astonishing part about this was that I did not expect it to happen. I didn't walk into that Church knowing that this would be the result. But it was. I could breathe. It was God's Grace and it was physically and emotionally perceptible to me. Intangible but tangible at the same time. It was a gift that I didn't expect much less deserve and it taught me volumes about the love of God. And as I continue to live within the bosom of the Church, the healing continues. It's not over by any stretch. </p><p>And so my dear readers, if you are estranged from the Church, be a stranger no more. If you are considering entering Orthodoxy from another tradition, you too can be a partaker of this Inexhaustible Cup. Taste and see that the Lord is good. I was the prodigal daughter and He didn't turn me away. Instead He waited for me to come home and ran to embrace me. I swear to you, I'm not making this up and He waits for you too. Jesus Christ is the Truth and the Truth will set you free. He did for me. </p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-44333501013093033782020-12-28T08:43:00.000-07:002020-12-28T08:43:29.058-07:00A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - The Return <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA4AtLgnmiuVQuGHm1lRUMY5NV_y-j4cXDQWKKWoEdHUmuqdq93__3SXTVVuSpZxFmqRfdvDDNX0Hv3Rqsg_Kv30hyJ-8R4BcHekBKvrF5euxt-PrsW6_yWfRVxgGoq-SHe_-NiHUZjoJr/s1254/iStock-1223849513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="836" data-original-width="1254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA4AtLgnmiuVQuGHm1lRUMY5NV_y-j4cXDQWKKWoEdHUmuqdq93__3SXTVVuSpZxFmqRfdvDDNX0Hv3Rqsg_Kv30hyJ-8R4BcHekBKvrF5euxt-PrsW6_yWfRVxgGoq-SHe_-NiHUZjoJr/s320/iStock-1223849513.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I am a quiet person by nature. I don't like to speak up in large groups and, for a variety of reasons, I am apprehensive to ask for assistance. I know some it has to do with the fear of being rejected, and some of it has to do with the fear of being mocked for even asking the question and, truth be told, some of it has to do with flat out pride, as in "I don't need anyone's help". As I've aged I have made some progress in this area, Glory to God. So for me to reach out to a priest I don't know other than through a person that I happened to randomly meet was a HUGE deal. <p></p><p>I'll have you know dear reader that I did not immediately call Fr. Gabriel. The encounter at the lab was in late October of 2002 and I didn't reach out to him until January of 2003. My anxiety and fear of what he would say to me held me back. I was terrified of priests. Growing up, the two priests that I had the most interaction with had been very strict and at least in my recollection as a child, were not forgiving or understanding people. Whether in reality this was true, I can't tell you for sure, however those were my perceptions. I hold no ill will towards either of them at all, and as an adult I can understand why they were the way they were. I pray for both of them daily and I think we oftentimes forget that the clergy are human beings. They aren't perfect, and especially when you add the additional responsibility of being married with children, I can't even begin to imagine the burdens that they must carry. </p><p>So, it took me about 3 months to muster up the courage to call Fr. Gabriel and set up an appointment to talk with him, but I did it. </p><p>Fr. Gabriel was a small man with a kind presence. He was an unmarried priest-monk without any airs of superiority who simply sat and listened. Not wanting to freak the guy out, I was extremely hesitant to tell him much about my past other that the basics of where I was from, my marital status etc., nothing too personal at all. I explained that although I had been raised Orthodox, other than what I've learned from reading a few books, I didn't understand much. Fr. Gabriel simply sat and listened and nodded while I spoke. Finally, when I was done, he began to speak. He told me how good it was that I came to see him and that the things that I told him were very common to many people my age. He gave me a prayer book to borrow until I bought my own and he told me to come back and we could talk some more. No judging, no condescension, no lecture. </p><p>You'd think after this first meeting that I would have immediately started going to services, but I didn't. It wasn't until I had spoken to Fr. Gabriel once or twice more that I finally mustered up the courage to go. I really did not want to talk to other people at the church. I wanted to be left alone to figure some things out and I didn't want to have to explain to other people why I hadn't been going to church for all of those years. My first conscious and deliberate return date to the Church was February 23, 2003. Unbeknownst to me at the time, that was also the Sunday of the Prodigal Son. And, about one month later, I found out that I was pregnant with my second child, right around the time of the Feast of the Annunciation. </p><p>There is still more to say about this which will be done in one final post later this week.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-30108181448040155612020-12-26T07:48:00.002-07:002020-12-28T07:00:31.768-07:00A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - Not coincidence, but providence<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCW1ajruCaeCuXFVbaqOEuSTQ5qyjHIQNNvIVepgqCdekR_NzWbcsKhx87jLjky76MUmeBPmqoZj4r34MPdjGhNgQD4V4KzNr-oJoH6bNRI4GAK_lQ4E93C7ZqWoFXCKcbsVJTTPgjXD4X/s1254/iStock-1225934635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCW1ajruCaeCuXFVbaqOEuSTQ5qyjHIQNNvIVepgqCdekR_NzWbcsKhx87jLjky76MUmeBPmqoZj4r34MPdjGhNgQD4V4KzNr-oJoH6bNRI4GAK_lQ4E93C7ZqWoFXCKcbsVJTTPgjXD4X/s320/iStock-1225934635.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />As I've aged there are a few things that I know to be absolutely true (aside from Orthodoxy, of course). One of these things pertains to coincidences. My conclusion is that they don't exist in their popular understanding. I mean, they happen of course, but it's not some random event with no connection to other things. I can look back on things that were seemingly random but upon deeper consideration, were not at all arbitrary experiences but instead, providence. <p></p><p>Unfortunately during this time in which I was fumbling my way around to the Church, I suffered two miscarriages, and as a result, blood work had to be done to see if there was something amiss. So I go to the lab, have a seat and finally, after just a short while, my name is called and I walk back to the little station and nervously wait for the phlebotomist. After a few minutes she arrives and probably by looking at my anxious face, she starts making pleasant small talk. As she's reaching for my arm to put that stretchy plastic band around it, I immediately notice the three-bar cross hanging around her neck. For whatever reason I blurt out "Are you Orthodox?" to which she happily affirmed that she was and told me the name of her parish. I then, again quite boldly, asked her "How's the priest?" This wonderful lady then began to gush about the kindness, sweetness and gentle-ness of the priest-monk who was the pastor of her church. She finally asked me if I was Orthodox and I answered that I was but I wasn't really going anywhere. Her reply of course was that I needed to come to her parish and meet the priest, Father Gabriel, who would certainly speak with me and don't worry, he's very approachable. I don't remember exactly what I said next but I think I just nodded and agreed and that was the end of it. </p><p>Or rather, the beginning of it.</p><p>Next post, Fr. Gabriel.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-69578804865773286902020-11-01T07:26:00.005-07:002020-12-28T06:59:47.023-07:00A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - Post 9/11<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi77pYdqqe7-oZGorexYt2RblI0cV8qiSoJRtjcQpssfz003VXn0qs8fXkItzwc6qU08-4ZqVNiSfv5uBrUOJ1kbw1KFt-6QX__MFebqlwEerjBVCxgGXOWGVnUWbkAvABrQHKAYNKlT0d6/s1254/iStock-1150696347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi77pYdqqe7-oZGorexYt2RblI0cV8qiSoJRtjcQpssfz003VXn0qs8fXkItzwc6qU08-4ZqVNiSfv5uBrUOJ1kbw1KFt-6QX__MFebqlwEerjBVCxgGXOWGVnUWbkAvABrQHKAYNKlT0d6/s320/iStock-1150696347.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>(Sorry for the delay in posts. I went back to work as a teacher in July and with the current state of affairs, I was working 12-14 hours/day doing my best to teach virtually. For the time being we are back in person, so things have settled down to the usual 10-11 hours/day affording a little free time).</div><div><br /></div><div>On a personal level, my husband had known quite a few people who died in the Towers. Former co-workers, childhood friends and even his Little League coach were among the dead. I had really only known one of the them well, but the whole event was crushing. The deaths were sudden and violent and added exponentially to my already anxious disposition. Was I on God's proverbial death docket? </div><div><br /></div><div>If you are old enough to remember those first few months post-9/11, you will recall all sorts of pontificating of why God allowed this to happen, and who exactly does God favor and who God does not favor. Who does He love and who doesn't He love. The popular American preachers of the day were loud and clear...believe what I believe about God and you'll be fine and saved. </div><div><br /></div><div>For a very small while, I listened attentively to this and gave their ideas some true consideration. It was easy to do. They were all over the television and the Internet. Easy access. But in my gut, this all seemed forced and inauthentic. </div><div><br /></div><div>Their pervading message was everyone who didn't think like them was going to hell. If you didn't live the perfect life and have perfect thoughts, you were not loved by God. If you did not tithe, you were not loved by God. If you did not have material blessings, it was evidence that you were not loved by God. The list went on and on. There were so many things that restricted God from loving me. Additionally, I would talk to evangelical Christians and there was no depth to them. Their "theology" had so many holes in it, that I was embarrassed for them. Their pastors were taking advantage of their naiveté and so that all that these people could do was regurgitate what had been fed to them. I'd try to talk about God and spiritual matters but it would always come back to canned phrases that were not in the least bit sensical. When I'd ask where the Bible came from, the response was always "from God". Yes, it was, but there had to be actual people who assembled the book, no? It didn't simply fall from the sky in a published format. I'd either get crickets or they would say the same words again but this time with a hint of disdain, "It came from God." Okey dokey. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't doubt that some of these folks love Christ with every ounce of their being, but honestly their version of God was one who was demanding, quite fickle and had it out for people like me. And, apparently a God who didn't want you asking questions. The only good thing that came out of this was that I purchased my first Bible. I had to see for myself whether these ideas were true or not because if Evangelicals were good at anything, it was quoting the Bible. But that purchase didn't come until after a "chance" encounter with a phlebotomist who was wearing a three-bar cross.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-19334848517061634152020-07-28T15:34:00.001-07:002020-07-28T15:36:08.393-07:00A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - Unarmed in the World<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMrv6GF6XirNM0pzd_c4HwtUQxyXjFy9uEAoo6YH4fHOAnH83SJIdCEfg6vGSiKIatd7aSq2_579wYbTKnJDSSfudO_0h8lPS0ejLXznwwsOyNaCroPZzOMsNqisWU7LDzsiDzsEQiZkki/s1024/candleholder-in-holy-trinity-cathedral-of-tbilisi-details-in-the-picture-id1126050998.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMrv6GF6XirNM0pzd_c4HwtUQxyXjFy9uEAoo6YH4fHOAnH83SJIdCEfg6vGSiKIatd7aSq2_579wYbTKnJDSSfudO_0h8lPS0ejLXznwwsOyNaCroPZzOMsNqisWU7LDzsiDzsEQiZkki/s320/candleholder-in-holy-trinity-cathedral-of-tbilisi-details-in-the-picture-id1126050998.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm really struggling with this post and I'm not quite sure how to proceed except to just say what I know to be true and what I experienced. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I entered college as a naive child and unarmed to face the American college experience. While I "identified"as an Orthodox Christian, I had very little knowledge as to what that even meant. Other than a comical encounter with a well-meaning member of Campus Crusade for Christ, and one trip to a local Orthodox Church for Pascha my sophomore year (I showed up late and was there for maybe 15 minutes), that was pretty much it for God in college. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Without going into the details of my four years, it should suffice to say that I left college deeply wounded. I made the same choices as <i>many </i>other college kids but for some reason, I seemed to have come up much much worse for the wear than everyone else. My relationship with my parents was dysfunctional at that point. My father was trying to make a go of a new business venture and there were so many stressors involved with that. My mother had her own struggles that interfered with us having a close relationship for many years, so there was no trusting relationship that so many of my other friends seemed to have with their mothers. Nor did I have any older siblings or family members or trusted adults that could help. I really had not a single person in whom to turn. My close friends did not understand and their advice was "you shouldn't feel that way." I know they were only trying to be helpful and we all existed on the same plane of maturity, but that common phrase didn't help at all . Sadly, the end result of all of this was extreme anxiety and feelings of abandonment and isolation. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I kept trucking along though. I moved to the big city and got myself busy. And when I wasn't busy, I depended on music and TV to drown out those incessant thoughts that told me how unworthy of a human being I was. I could not bear silence because those painful memories would rush back to attack. And although I still remained nonreligious, I was in a panicked state that God was now looking for the opportunity to throw me into hell. Paranoia at its finest. Thankfully, I was never suicidal although I fully understand how many people could end up in that place. The paralyzing fear of divine judgement from a vengeful and unforgiving deity was so deeply ingrained in me that it wouldn't allow for such thoughts. I did NOT want to die. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In this distressing spiritual and psychological state, I continued to push onward. I married and had a child who was brought into the Church because that's what you are supposed to do. I worked full-time until we moved to a place that would allow me to stay at home to raise a family. However, after the initial busyness of the move was over, the thoughts returned and churned over and over and over. Fear continued to rule my life. A few months after moving into our new home, I had a difficult and scary miscarriage, and then almost four months later, 9/11. September 11, 2001...the day that forced every human to confront their mortality. The very thing I had been avoiding for the past ten years.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-27265197780824693142020-07-10T10:41:00.005-07:002020-07-10T11:41:52.812-07:00 A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - The "When In Rome" Ideology - Part 2<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6WAVri-BNLcjzddwDImwiJhoG4ncyInZLCdE-FGTPCUD_XQlWpyDSeuLc4y7VuRaJx-Rujrn1ijZLkncK8MakvMiGr4V8od13T4O6ZscVB2TXfpKughZtnNUSXUy3rziDQdLw7Gf0_VHn/s1024/orthodox-church-christianity-festive-interior-decoration-with-burning-picture-id1218842309.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6WAVri-BNLcjzddwDImwiJhoG4ncyInZLCdE-FGTPCUD_XQlWpyDSeuLc4y7VuRaJx-Rujrn1ijZLkncK8MakvMiGr4V8od13T4O6ZscVB2TXfpKughZtnNUSXUy3rziDQdLw7Gf0_VHn/s320/orthodox-church-christianity-festive-interior-decoration-with-burning-picture-id1218842309.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have one of my daughters read my posts before I publish them and she has a valid complaint which is that my posts are not very in-depth. And I agree. I know I could be much more thorough if this was a podcast but I don't have the resources for that. I could talk for hours on end about Orthodoxy and this topic in particular, but I don't know if any one really cares to listen. To remediate this problem, I will try to put more meat into my posts from here on out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So back to money.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It is no great revelation that money can be ruinous. There was a time when I thought winning the Powerball would be the single greatest thing to happen to me. Now, with half a century of life experience under my belt, I know that winning an enormous amount of money would send me straight to hell. How do I know that? Because I notice a change in myself when I have a decent amount of money in my hands. It's really bizarre. I become carefree and arrogant and I have to struggle to be vigilant with my behavior. Maybe that's not you, but it is <b>definitely</b> me. Yeah we could kid ourselves and say that we would give it all away or some other rationalization, but the hard truth is, when you have excessive amounts of money, you have no need for Christ. <br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">With money, supposedly, you can buy your way out of suffering. Or buy things that will ease the suffering. And it can be as simple as a buck for a candy bar or as extravagant as a vacation home on a private island. Doesn't matter, you feel the power with both. And I don't think I'm too far off when I hear people vehemently demanding the redistribution of wealth that it isn't so much about the cash as it is about the power and control that comes with it. The desire to control the outcomes in our lives is all tied back to money. Maybe when I'm all done with this series I'll loop back around to suffering and control. Fun stuff.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now back to our story...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My father grew up the son of a poor immigrant father. My grandfather did not speak English very well and had low-level jobs to keep the family afloat. As most kids would, my father struggled with this. It's not easy to be poor and ethnic in America and not fit into that WASP stereotype. And without Christ, it is a constant life of suffering, anger and malcontent. My dad's MO, whether it was a conscious effort or not, was to get out of it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Although both of his parents were Orthodox Christians, from what I can gather, it doesn't appear that Orthodoxy was at the heart of their home. They went to services and festivals and I'm pretty sure that my dad went to Sunday school, but I never heard my father talk about God. So when my dad married my mom and ventured out into the corporate world in the late 60's, he was not guided by God but rather the desire to escape the poverty and social subjugation of his upbringing. In my formative years so much of what my parents talked and argued about was money. They went through wild fluctuations of having an abundance and traveling the world to a complete low of almost losing the house. So it comes as no surprise that my father raised me to be a business woman. My entire upbringing was focused on that endpoint. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, in no way do I want to make my father seem to be the bad guy here. I adore my father and I miss his love and humor every single day. He was a good person, loved us dearly and was our biggest cheerleader in life. Thankfully he did come back to the Church in the last several years of his life, so while I pray for his peaceful rest every day, I have peace in my heart for him. That's another post in itself too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now for my mother.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My sweet suffering mother was brought up in simplicity of a pious Orthodox Christian household. My grandfather was a carpenter and my grandmother, a housewife with an 8th grade education. Their faith was pure. I once walked into my grandma's room while she was praying and I felt like I had stepped into a holy scene. It took my breath away. My grandfather would roam the house singing spiritual songs and <b><i>never ever</i></b> raised his voice in anger. They both supported their parish with every talent God gave them. I am undeservedly blessed to have them as my grandparents. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My mother had no formal education beyond high school other than a certification as a medical secretary. And although she was raised in this piety of her parents, and had years of Orthodox catechism in Sunday school (I still have her books!), this simplicity did not translate into American culture and was not passed down to us. My mother was thrown from a quiet existence where it wasn't that important to "know" your faith because it was <i><b>actually lived</b></i> to an absolutely insane situation in the suburbs of NYC where this simplicity is viewed as ignorance and avarice is viewed as enlightenment. So, my mother had to adapt to Rome and do as the Romans do. There is no room for Orthodox Christianity and money to peacefully co-exist and given our environment, money won. My siblings and I were raised as citizens of America's Rome. My parents did take us to church, occasionally to Sunday school and we did spend wonderful summers at an Orthodox Christian sleep-away camp. However, the day to day life, which should have been imbued with Christ, was not. And as a result, unfortunate things were produced in me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The story of me...the next post. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-43129537354352003742020-07-07T10:36:00.002-07:002020-07-07T15:30:32.896-07:00A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - The "When In Rome" Ideology - Part One<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZU5hetM2VPJeoql6LSZoVEQmaDMqSTBFTXlNp7yK_rLYLgxWw5oHktTcZrlA3M_BY2_YWL1U5pQ4gd2MoqzmDE-ikg25JeLScBojWgWEraGTf5vQg3Lcxc9WOG1PebLR-Sp18L3xAsUc/s1213/iStock-1217192881.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZU5hetM2VPJeoql6LSZoVEQmaDMqSTBFTXlNp7yK_rLYLgxWw5oHktTcZrlA3M_BY2_YWL1U5pQ4gd2MoqzmDE-ikg25JeLScBojWgWEraGTf5vQg3Lcxc9WOG1PebLR-Sp18L3xAsUc/s320/iStock-1217192881.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Before I start the post, here's something really cool I found about the origin of the saying "When in Rome" from a website called <a href="http://www.italiannotebook.com/local-interest/origin-do-as-romans-do/" target="_blank">The Italian Notebook:</a></div><blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal">Ever heard the expression, “When in Rome, do as the Romans
do”?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Of course you have.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Do you know the expression’s origin? St. Ambrose, way back
in 387 A.D.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">As the story goes, when St. Augustine arrived in Milan to
assume his role as Professor of Rhetoric for the Imperial Court, he observed
that the Church did not fast on Saturdays as it did in Rome.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Confused, Agostino consulted with the wiser and older <i>Ambrogio</i> (Ambrose),
then the Bishop of Milan, who replied: “When I am at Rome, I fast on Saturday;
when I am at Milan I do not. Follow the custom of the Church where you are.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">In 1621, British author Robert Burton, in his classic
writing <i>Anatomy of Melancholy</i>, edited St. Ambrose’s remark to read:
“When they are at Rome, they do there as they see done.”<o:p></o:p></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; direction: ltr; line-height: 1.6; margin: 0px 0px 1.25em; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Down through the years, Burton’s turn of the St. Ambrose
quote was further edited, anonymously, into what is widely repeated today on a
daily basis by some traveler, somewhere, trying to adjust to his/her new or
temporary surroundings.<o:p></o:p></p></div></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So there you go. My post is based (unknowingly) from an expression from a 4th century Orthodox Christian saint. Thank you St. Ambrose.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As mentioned in the previous post, ethnicity played a large role in the lack of acceptance into American society. Unlike Irish and Italians who also arrived from Europe at about the same time, we did not have the "numbers" to warrant our own mini societies within American society. Some parts of Pennsylvania and Ohio may have been an exception to this, but generally speaking, we didn't have the support in numbers. In my New Jersey hometown, most people were Italian or Irish. On Thursdays, the day of CCD, (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Roman Catholic catechism) our public school had designated buses to take the kids directly to their church. If I had to guess, I'd say RC kids were 75-80% of our student population. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyhow, my point being here that we did not have the support of a "like" religious community on a daily basis. It was (and still is to a certain extent) isolating to be an Orthodox Christian in America. And the only way to end the isolation was to assimilate into American culture and values. And I don't mean the "advertised" culture of Judeo-Christian values and the American dream of having everything if you just work hard enough. No, American culture revolves around one thing at its core and that is money. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-4127910479848845172020-06-13T14:29:00.001-07:002020-06-13T15:08:19.464-07:00A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - Ethnicity Issues<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtqWsb-WL2rf66NOnUuInn5u44tO9sJoAYHt-mn8rh5_ycOa0-GsjUa5Ijz9lgY-60QVv0gR7eeDJFXe-GkKkblrOQcURQMdPwz-aW-w_IlUr0MpWxgp8Y1csCC82_ddmCiheQFwD9MR5p/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="836" data-original-width="1254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtqWsb-WL2rf66NOnUuInn5u44tO9sJoAYHt-mn8rh5_ycOa0-GsjUa5Ijz9lgY-60QVv0gR7eeDJFXe-GkKkblrOQcURQMdPwz-aW-w_IlUr0MpWxgp8Y1csCC82_ddmCiheQFwD9MR5p/s320/iStock-1221861999.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Before I begin, I want to state that these posts will most likely come across as apologetics. Upon my own return to the Church 17 years ago I encountered some push back from converts who were appalled at my basic lack of Christian knowledge. Their observations weren't incorrect as I fumbled on how to explain myself. It is my hope that I will at least shed some light into what some cradle Orthodox Christians faced in the US.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>DISCLAIMER: </b>I don't speak for everyone but I am willing to bet that many cradle Orthodox Gen X'ers have some of these things in common with me. I'm not looking for pity or an excuse for what happened. Just sorta laying out how things were/are. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, here we go.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It is very hard to have an ethnic name in WASP America. My beautiful maiden name had 10 letters. I could always tell when a substitute teacher calling attendance arrived at my name because she would take a deep breath and then slowwwwly sound out my last name. Phonetically it wasn't that hard and honestly I felt even worse for the Polish kid who came after me with 13 letters. I only had a "v" that threw people off. That poor kid had 2 letter "c's", a "y" and a "z". He just said "here!" before the sub even attempted. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyhow when your name is so distinct and ethnic sounding, you just don't fit in with the Miller's, Johnson's and Brown's of the world. I can remember times throughout high school, when the US was still involved in the Cold War, some people would raise their eyebrows over my last name. I had a boy in college tell me that he really liked me but could never take me home to meet his parents because of my name. At first I was confused because I honestly thought he was referring to my first name which isn't terribly ethnic. When I asked what was wrong with my first name, he laughed and said that he had meant my last name. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh. I see. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That feeling of being different, of being excluded, of not belonging wasn't easy to bear, especially for a shy girl. I did spend fantastic summers with other "ethnic" kids at an Orthodox Christian summer camp. But in the end, we all returned to our homes and all those feelings returned. I just didn't fit in. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So while I really couldn't do anything about my last name, the only other option was to assimilate through behavior. If I acted like the other kids then maybe I would no longer be on the periphery of American society. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A rational sounding plan, no? A sort of "When in Rome..." idea. Unfortunately, it was largely disastrous and had deep and destructive consequences. That will be the topic of my next post. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-12274593315397834022020-05-31T09:06:00.005-07:002020-12-28T08:44:07.825-07:00A Missing Generation in Orthodox Christian America - An Introduction<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXyIL78N1EAfTSrPVId0bpsxOBPiuoJ_HwEYPY0NGXo_5S5lrtXe43BRPzTXDLEc4PiWYbxKkPfmlb8EjpRkAdSBGcUKox927Kcy-Ebw7DldjfXylArgyz8wCQEEkJtgCUFiGWcJ_62qHG/s1600/iStock-1201825886.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="833" data-original-width="1258" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXyIL78N1EAfTSrPVId0bpsxOBPiuoJ_HwEYPY0NGXo_5S5lrtXe43BRPzTXDLEc4PiWYbxKkPfmlb8EjpRkAdSBGcUKox927Kcy-Ebw7DldjfXylArgyz8wCQEEkJtgCUFiGWcJ_62qHG/s320/iStock-1201825886.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
As I look around the nave of my church it is clear as day that there are not many people in my age demographic. There are plenty of people 10+ years older than me and, Glory to God, an abundance of younger adults, most who are converts to Orthodox Christianity.<br />
<br />
My age demographic is Generation X, those born 1965-1980. I know there are Gen X Orthodox Christians out there. I went to summer camp with a whole bunch of them and there were quite a few in my parish growing up. I can count on one hand how many have remained active in the Church.<br />
<br />
To be clear, these posts are not meant to guilt or demand explanations from anyone. I know what happened. I was there and I am not in least bit surprised in the situation in which the Church finds herself. It is my intent with this series of writings is to explore why so many are missing and what it is that keeps them away.<br />
<br />
My vantage point:<br />
<br />
I am of Russian/Slavic ethnicity born in the United States, as were both of my parents and two of my grandparents. We have been in the U.S. for 110+ years and I only speak English (and whatever French I can recall from high school and college). However if you looked at my 10-letter maiden name and looked at my face, I definitely fit the bill as someone from Eastern Europe. And that's where the first post will start. Ethnicity and acceptance in American society.<div>
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<br /></div>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-73338917192782267232020-05-13T15:37:00.000-07:002020-05-13T15:49:39.823-07:00The Crossroads of AD and BC <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMMoikpYb_vzZ-MJmPv5zduuv_hni1rFBaIyE_y2Cx_D-uiOkG7d63stHXS5W_TCLuuE3zxgfC5_mRIKWESSseGgw7NTG-4Nx6AWhMamEKlNXR_S182Emjg9uyL7H-pnVgrQ43kSt09Nc/s1600/iStock-178377602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="836" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMMoikpYb_vzZ-MJmPv5zduuv_hni1rFBaIyE_y2Cx_D-uiOkG7d63stHXS5W_TCLuuE3zxgfC5_mRIKWESSseGgw7NTG-4Nx6AWhMamEKlNXR_S182Emjg9uyL7H-pnVgrQ43kSt09Nc/s320/iStock-178377602.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An ancient temple dedicated to Zeus located in modern day Turkey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I teach 6th grade, all subjects. While it is a monumental amount of work, I love every moment of it and wouldn't trade it for all the tea in China.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sixth grade Social Studies standards cover the major ancient civilizations and while they are all truly astounding, Ancient Mesopotamia and Ancient Greece are the two that stand out as the most fun and engaging to teach. Ancient Rome is a close third because 12 year-olds love volcanoes and gladiators and Ancient Rome definitely has both.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I will readily admit that I knew pretty much zero about Ancient Mesopotamia and maybe close to zero about Ancient Greece when I started teaching. At no time of my academic development do I ever remember learning about ancient civilizations so this was relatively new to me. As I started to learn about these times and places while organizing lessons, a huge connection to my life as a Christian manifested. Once you learn about these real historical people and places, the Old and Testament fall into place and a whole new level of understanding arises. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The following passage takes place in what is now modern day Turkey apparently close to a temple dedicated to the Greek god, Zeus. St. Paul and St. Barnabas are out healing the sick while evangelizing and people freak out and think St. Barnabas is Zeus incarnate and St. Paul is Hermes because of his eloquence. Here it is from Acts 14:6-18:</span><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><sup>6 </sup></b>they learned of it and fled to
Lystra and Derbe, cities of Lycao′nia, and to the surrounding country;<br />
<b><sup>7 </sup></b>and
there they preached the gospel.<br />
<b><sup>8 </sup></b>Now at Lystra there was
a man sitting, who could not use his feet; he was a cripple from birth, who had
never walked.<br />
<b><sup>9 </sup></b>He listened to Paul speaking; and
Paul, looking intently at him and seeing that he had faith to be made
well,<br />
<b><sup>10 </sup></b>said in a loud voice, “Stand upright on
your feet.” And he sprang up and walked.<br />
<b><sup>11 </sup></b>And
when the crowds saw what Paul had done, they lifted up their voices, saying in
Lycao′nian, “The gods have come down to us in the likeness of men!”<br />
<b><sup>12 </sup></b>Barnabas
they called Zeus, and Paul, because he was the chief speaker, they called
Hermes.<br />
<b><sup>13 </sup></b>And the priest of Zeus, whose temple was
in front of the city, brought oxen and garlands to the gates and wanted to
offer sacrifice with the people.<br />
<b><sup>14 </sup></b>But when the
apostles Barnabas and Paul heard of it, they tore their garments and rushed out
among the multitude, crying,<br />
<b><sup>15 </sup></b>“Men, why are you
doing this? We also are men, of like nature with you, and bring you good news,
that you should turn from these vain things to a living God who made the heaven
and the earth and the sea and all that is in them.<br />
<b><sup>16 </sup></b>In
past generations he allowed all the nations to walk in their own ways;<br />
<b><sup>17 </sup></b>yet
he did not leave himself without witness, for he did good and gave you from
heaven rains and fruitful seasons, satisfying your hearts with food and
gladness.”<br />
<b><sup>18 </sup></b>With these words they scarcely
restrained the people from offering sacrifice to them.</blockquote>
There is just so much here to think about. It's the cultural crossroads of BC and AD. Also, the deep humility of the apostles as they lose their minds when people try to worship them. For me though, what I especially hold onto are verses 16-17. God had done good to these people even when they lived in darkness as those outside of His chosen people of Ancient Israel. But now was the time for the ultimate revelation to ALL people. And that revelation is Jesus Christ, the true incarnate God, the lover of all mankind.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">Christ is Risen!</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br /></blockquote>
Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-29956719208970185302020-05-12T07:37:00.001-07:002020-05-12T07:37:55.513-07:00Staying True<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXaxsXcVLWh4SnHSfPfJU2poHFw13jOdTCGg3qttkRYMLyjsGp0djEL-B0HOXFp2Qu5jRyt-DoVXW6Kx4-Txz1hqh0ygiCd_ScLtouLQSTsH-huSqZ3K_klKtrh9ukIKL4gekqaLpU0gne/s1600/Be+the+bee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="836" data-original-width="1254" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXaxsXcVLWh4SnHSfPfJU2poHFw13jOdTCGg3qttkRYMLyjsGp0djEL-B0HOXFp2Qu5jRyt-DoVXW6Kx4-Txz1hqh0ygiCd_ScLtouLQSTsH-huSqZ3K_klKtrh9ukIKL4gekqaLpU0gne/s320/Be+the+bee.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
And now another year has passed.<br />
<br />
Updates: I started another blog and tried to keep it secular but it turns out that I just can't. It's impossible to separate myself like that and I think I'm just going to shut it down. Perhaps I can transfer some of the posts over here. I was unable to be myself on that blog so I'm back to posting here.<br />
<br />
I have a blog post that I've been thinking about for a long while, so I'm going to start that today.<br />
<br />
May you all be healthy and safe. Christ is Risen!<br />
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<br />Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-38399148841199054902019-02-25T11:22:00.000-07:002019-02-25T11:22:20.748-07:00Three years have passed<span style="font-family: inherit;">since I have last posted. A child sent off to college, a new career for me and the passing of my father...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We are at the cusp of another Lenten Season. My hope is to start this blog up again with thoughts and ideas from others that will help us "<span class="text Eph-5-15" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, </span><span class="text Eph-5-16" id="en-NKJV-29321" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">redeeming the time, <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NKJV-29321W" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NKJV-29321W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></sup>because the days are evil." (St. Paul to the Ephesians 5:15-16) In the past three years it appears that foolishness has run rampant and I am of the opinion that it has come to the point where we may not be able to halt the onslaught but humbly seek refuge and deflect as best as we can.</span></span>Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-32048437949600883312016-03-11T11:43:00.000-07:002016-03-11T11:46:03.245-07:00Back from HiatusIt has been almost a year since I've posted and for no other reason than life just happens and some things simply get placed to the wayside. Not that you all have been waiting with bated breath for my comments on the Sunday School post, but I apologize if that was the case. It's a terrific piece and has a myriad of valid points. Orthodoxy cannot be simply copied and pasted into existing models, especially not Protestant-based ones. To learn the Bible is to experience it the Liturgy. The following link outlines the use of Holy Scripture during the Divine Liturgy. <a href="http://www.theophany.org/services-scripture-in-the-divine-liturgy.php">Scripture in the Divine Liturgy</a>. Pretty awesome if you ask me.<br />
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At any rate, I'm back and I'm going to try to post more often. I'm currently doing some post graduate work, trying to launch a second (or third if you count stay-at-home mom) career. Pray for me. That <a href="http://orthodox.net/redeemingthetime/2008/02/16/the-demon-of-noonday-and-the-sixth-hour/">Demon of Noonday</a> is a pest for sure.<br />
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Love to all who visit this blog and wishing you a fruitful Lenten season!<br />
<br />Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-52870292059374471952015-04-25T08:24:00.000-07:002015-04-25T08:24:05.896-07:00Children and the ChurchChrist is Risen!<div>
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Here's a fantastic article about educating children in the Church. I recommend everyone read it, even if you don't have kids.</div>
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<a href="http://illumination-learning.com/main/2015/04/24/the-epic-search-for-an-orthodox-christian-curriculum/">The Epic Search for an Orthodox Christian Curriculm</a></div>
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I have so much to say about this. Let me gather my thoughts and try to put something coherent together in the next few days.</div>
Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-23558242087017104892014-04-02T13:43:00.000-07:002014-04-02T14:03:25.777-07:00The Most Difficult PrayerWhile I was stressing out last week about something that really was nothing in the end, I found this prayer. As I was going through it, I realized that this has got to be the most difficult prayer out there. The difficulty lies in the condemnation and hence realization of how far my soul is from God.<br />
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<em>Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.</em><br />
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<em>Enemies have driven me into Thy embrace more than friends have.</em><br />
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<em>Friends have bound me to earth, enemies have loosed me from earth and have demolished all my aspirations in the world.</em><br />
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<em>Enemies have made me a stranger in worldly realms and an extraneous inhabitant of the world.</em><br />
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<em>Just as a hunted animal finds safer shelter than an unhunted animal does, so have I, persecuted by enemies, found the safest sanctuary, having ensconced myself beneath Thy tabernacle, whether neither friends nor enemies can slay my soul.</em><br />
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<em>Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.</em><br />
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<em>They, rather than I, have confessed my sins before the world. They have punished me, whenever I have hesitated to punish myself. They have tormented me, whenever I have tried to flee torments. They have scolded me, whenever I have flattered myself. They have spat upon me, whenever I have filled myself with arrogance.</em><br />
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<em>Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.</em><br />
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<em>Whenever I have made myself mighty, they have mocked me.</em><br />
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<em>Whenever I have rushed to enrich myself, they have prevented me with an iron hand.</em><br />
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<em>Whenever I have tried to sleep peacefully, they have wakened me from sleep.</em><br />
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<em>Whenever I have tried to build a home for a long and tranquil life, they have demolished it and driven me out.</em><br />
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<em>Truly, enemies have cut me loose from the world and have stretched out my hands to the hem of Thy garment.</em><br />
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<em>Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.</em><br />
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<em>Bless them and multiply them; multiply them and make them even more bitterly against me; so my fleeing to Thee may have no return; so that all hope in men may be scattered like cobwebs; so that absolute serenity may begin to reign in my soul; so that my heart may become the grave of my two evil twins: arrogance and anger; so that I might amass all my treasure in heaven; ah, so that I may for once be freed from self deception, which has entangled me in the dreadful web of illusory life.</em><br />
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<em>Enemies have taught me to know what hardly anyone knows, that a person has no enemies except himself. One hates his enemies only when he fails to realize that they are not enemies, but cruel friends. It is truly difficult for me to say who has done me more good and who has done me more evil in the world: friends or enemies.</em><br />
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<em>Therefore bless, O Lord, both my friends and my enemies.</em><br />
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<em>A slave curses enemies, for he does not understand.</em><br />
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<em>But a son blesses them, for he understands. For a son knows that his enemies cannot touch his life. Therefore he freely steps among them and prays to God for them.</em><br />
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<em>Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.</em><br />
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<em>Amen.</em><br />
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I told you that was hard. Love to all!!<br />
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Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-65846252660433250802013-09-13T11:43:00.000-07:002013-09-15T21:16:59.362-07:00Let us pray.I've been thinking about starting a whole new blog dedicated to prayer but being that I am crunched for time, it's much easier to just use this one.<br />
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It has come to my attention that almost every.single.night after the daily tragedies are read on the news, most of them end with "and our thoughts and prayers are with the family/town/survivors." It made me wonder, sheesh, with all these people praying you would think that the world would be in a much better spot than it is presently. If you have been living on Mars and have sketchy Internet service, and the only website you can get is my blog (my apologies to you), it's really awful. Truly awful. One would not be incorrect in saying that we are probably at this point:<br />
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“A time is coming when people will go mad and when they see someone who is not mad, they will attack him, saying, “You are mad, you are not like us.” - St. Anthony of the Desert, 4th century.</blockquote>
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For the next year, or maybe for the life of this blog, posts will be dedicated to all things prayer. Of course, it will be the Orthodox Christian we-have-2000+years-of-experience-with-prayer viewpoint.<br />
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First posting, if I don't have to work, will be Monday. Praying for you all to have a peaceful weekend.<br />
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<br />Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-58466340700265341132013-06-07T10:43:00.000-07:002013-06-08T05:55:31.489-07:00And for my second post of 2013...You know...when I started blogging I got off to a super duper start. Holy smokes, I was pumpin' stuff out like there was no tomorrow! And now...you can hear the crickets chirping.<br />
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It's time consuming and sometimes I feel a bit guilty sitting at the computer when I have tons of housework that needs to be done. Crazy people that they are, my family likes to eat and they appreciate clean underwear. The kids also liked to be picked up from school when it's completed for the day. So between driving, cooking, cleaning and other stuff, my life of blogging becomes stymied.<br />
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Well now that it is summer, I'm starting up again. I hope.<br />
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First up...I may be a little late to the party but dear Orthodox peeps you have got to get yourself a copy of <em>Everyday Saints</em>. You can find every human emotion in this book..you will laugh, you will cry, you will jump out of your seat and want to hug God for being so awesome. I can barely type the words "Egyptian Cat" and not start giggling. Like the name implies, <em>Everyday Saints</em> allows you to relax just enough to realize that salvation isn't only for the spiritual superstars. It's for bums like us too. And if that isn't enough to convince you, Amazon has it rated 5 stars with 54 reviews. On Amazon it looks like it only has the Kindle Version. I know it's been selling out everywhere so a copy may be hard to come by. I have one left at my parish's bookstore if you happen to be the area (Sts. Peter & Paul Orthodox Church in Phoenix). <br />
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That's it for now. I think I hear an 8 year old boy attempting to make Kool-Aid by himself, so 'tis best that I leave. See you all soon!Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0Arizona, USA34.0489281 -111.0937311000000127.330691099999996 -121.4208796 40.7671651 -100.76658260000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-7026820842816970152013-01-24T10:43:00.000-07:002013-06-07T10:38:47.324-07:00Cleaning up 2012I've got two things to wrap up from 2012...so here it goes:<br />
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1 - The last time we met I posted about my grandmother's departure from this life to the next. Her funeral was a beautiful occasion and when you compare it to those outside of Orthodoxy, there simply is nothing to compare. If you have the inkling to do so, I suggest you find the service online and read through it. An Orthodox Christian's death is a feast of love. I walked away from my grandmother's funeral with a refreshing perspective on death. It "reminded" me how much I am loved from birth to death by not only God and my immediate family, but also by the entire Church, both triumphant and militant. And it wasn't a mental reminder either. It was more like a transformation that didn't come from rational thinking like "Be happy! She's in a better place and I can go there too!" It is something much more sublime and indescribable. Sort of how you really can't describe that state of being after the Orthodox Paschal (Easter) service. Actually I feel it more acutely on Bright Monday after I have finished cooking/cleaning and had some sleep. The world is illumined and you feel exceedingly hopeful in all things and the boundaries between heaven and earth seemingly don't exist. Blessed are those who have attained the ability to walk around this world perpetually in this state! <br />
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And then there is this:<br />
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2 - Prior to that post about my grandmother's death, I had been giving my own thoughts on Markides' book, <em>The Mountain of Silence</em>. All in all, I liked the book and found it to be edifying and you can read through the comments for a little more discussion between myself and an anonymous poster. I don't think I'm going to comment anymore on his books only to say that I quite liked his latest, <em>Inner River: A Pilgrimage to the Heart of Christian Spirituality</em>, especially Fr. Maximos' conversation about the fruits of the Spirit (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Galatians 5:22-23&version=NKJV">Galatians 5:22-23</a>). His teaching was that these fruits were listed in a hierarchical order and that without the one listed last, self-control, that the others are not truly attainable. I suppose that is why the Church has such an emphasis (almost daily) on fasting, the tool to self-control when practiced correctly. Obviously the book goes into more more depth than my two sentence synopsis. There is also a chapter on Markides' journey to St. Katherine's Monastery at the foot Mount Sinai in Egypt. As someone who has very little chance of visiting the Sinai desert, I rather enjoyed that chapter. To wrap it up, like I wrote in my prior post, not everyone likes Markides' books. For me, however, the first book really had a positive effect on my life and perhaps that's why I have enjoyed the two that followed. <br />
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So now what's in store for 2013 for Desert Deliberations? I don't know really. Maybe just random ramblings that I come across. I did just read a lovely little book called <em>Crazy John</em>, which recounts the life a modern day Fool-for-Christ in Greece. It can be purchased <a href="http://www.stbarbaramonastery.org/product/crazy%20john">here</a> through St. Barbara's Monastery bookstore. <br />
Here's an excerpt:<br />
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<em>In this particular neighborhood that may not differ from all others, not even from our own--whether we live in the city or in a village-- the foolishness of a single person, a model of Jesus Christ, was enough to provoke a pleasant revolution. It is pleasant because it is unique, one of a kind, a novelty through time. This revolution breaks the demonic bonds of souls admittedly captured and attached to ephemeral and inferior things. It restores them to the frequency of heaven and to the invigorating, salutary, doxological pulses of the Holy Trinity. It attires them with the sense of the Greek "philotimo" and unselfishness, honesty and purity, patience and perseverance, sacrifice and love, humility and repentance. It is only with this attire that the soul can attend the unceasing everyday table, which God gives us bounteously.</em><br />
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It's a refreshing read for sure.<br />
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Wishing you all a marvelous New Year that brings transformations that you never thought possible!<br />
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Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-88118989617038125652012-09-07T10:19:00.000-07:002012-09-07T10:19:02.394-07:00Memory Eternal!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVU6fN_A5rnEF0w90jLxXjG-vbNMa2RKR85G5nr0tE9MhHB62ppeXz1AEPWvt1gvGimI9eyF5Sro5VJkM6mdTy3x1vnl6wuQSEpADmR-9_6FDwFuI4BVEHxGpFMbNTYJa2e9hMl7bzRlYp/s1600/grandma+wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVU6fN_A5rnEF0w90jLxXjG-vbNMa2RKR85G5nr0tE9MhHB62ppeXz1AEPWvt1gvGimI9eyF5Sro5VJkM6mdTy3x1vnl6wuQSEpADmR-9_6FDwFuI4BVEHxGpFMbNTYJa2e9hMl7bzRlYp/s320/grandma+wedding.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
My pious and God-loving grandmother Julia enterned into eternal life this morning at the age of 101. She was the 6th of 8 children, but the first in her family to be born in the United States. She and her pious husband John (d.1983) raised two children of their own, my mother and my uncle who himself entered into eternal life in 2010.<br />
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Julia was a tremendous cook and baker who faithfully served her home parish of Sts. Peter and Paul Orthodox Christian Church in Syracuse, NY with these talents until her early 90's when she began to slow down a bit. She loved Our Lord Jesus and always spoke about "Our Lord this" and "Our Lord that" as if she knew Him quite closely (which she did!). She loved all Christians but expressed to me once that she wished everyone would come to the Orthodox Church because of the beauty of the worship and that the expression of love to our Lord Jesus could not be found in any other place on earth. About 8-9 years ago while she was still living in the home that my grandfather built, I accidently walked in on her saying her morning prayers. Although a little bit hunched over, her arms were uplifted as high as she could as she stood praying. I felt like I had walked into a private conversation and so I hurriedly backed out of the room and sat in awe. I am unworthy to have had such a magnificent handmaiden of God as my grandmother. To say that I feel blessed is an understatement. <br />
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We love you Grandma. What a joyous day to have been greeted by Our Saviour, His Mother, your parents, your husband, your seven siblings and your own son. May your memory be eternal!<br />
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The following video was her favorite hymn. It is from Psalm 77. I can close my eyes and hear her singing this in her kitchen.<br />
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Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-7241453184853322112012-07-25T10:43:00.000-07:002012-07-25T10:50:46.335-07:00A brief interruption on the Markides' postingsOn the side bar over there on the right under "Places to Visit" is a link to the Orthodox Christian Quote of the Day. I rather enjoy it and some days it's seems to be just the right medicine for whatever I'm struggling with.<br />
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Today's quote comes from one of my all-time favorite saints, St. Seraphim of Sarov. I am dealing with some people that are being malicious and hurtful and hence making them quite unlovable. Thank you St. Seraphim for your wisdom. God-willing we shall meet someday. (and thank you to Adam who faithfully emails these out every day)<br />
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<blockquote>God is a fire that warms and kindles the heart and inward parts. Hence, if we feel in our hearts the cold which comes from the devil - for the devil is cold - let us call on the Lord. He will come to warm our hearts with perfect love, not only for Him but also for our neighbor, and the cold of him who hates the good will flee before the heat of His countenance</blockquote><br />
It's not easy but I'm gonna try.Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-17737277703870788772012-07-24T09:51:00.000-07:002012-07-25T09:46:59.076-07:00Markides' books - Part 1Alrighty, it appears that whatever I'm doing with Blogger is sort of working so I'm just going for it. As I have mentioned probably ad nauseum on my blog, I'm just a regular person. I hold no theological degree, I'm not a PK (priest's kid), and heck, I'm not even married to an Orthodox person. I'm a cradle Orthodox woman who knew next to nothing about Orthodoxy as a child, pretty much abandoned the Church when I left home for college, and then returned almost 10 years ago at the age of 33. During the journey of the return which started in 2001 and finally *officially* occurred in February of 2003 when I stepped back into the Church, I read books. Lots of them. I started with the Orthodox Study Bible. If you are literate and call yourself a Christian, you have to have a Bible. IMHO, the OSB is a marvelous one and I recommend it to Christians of all flavors. After the Bible though, there are just so many things to read. <br />
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In the beginning I was choosing books without the advice of a spiritually mature person, so my choices were whatever I had heard of on BeliefNet or whatever was free. One of first books I picked up, because it was at my local library and hence <b>free</b>, was <i>The Mountain of Silence</i>, by Kyriacos Markides. Yes, I know, *some* people don't like Markides' books. The complaint is that Markides is too liberal in his beliefs, yada yada. That's fine. You are entitled to your own opinion. For me though, this book was a Godsend. It had nothing to do with miracles and such that are found throughout the book, although that stuff was fascinating and edifying. It had all to do with one chapter. The chapter was on logismoi. If you don't know what logismoi is, don't worry, I didn't know the word either, however I was all too familiar with it. I distinctly remember reading the chapter and saying to myself "OH.MY.GOD! There is a name for this?!!!" Here's an excerpt from the book which I conveniently found on another Orthodox blog called Orthodox Christian Medicine. <br />
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'Logismoi are much more intense than simple thoughts. They penetrate into the very depths of a human being. They have enormous power. Let us say,' Fr. Maximos went on to clarify, 'that a simple thought is a weak logismos. We need to realize, however, that certain thoughts, or logismoi, once inside a human being, can undermine every trace of a spiritual life in its very foundation. People who live in the world don't know about the nature and power of logismoi. That is, they don't have the experience of that reality. But as they proceed on their spiritual struggle, particularly through systematic prayer, then are they able to understand the true meaning and power of this reality. (pg 118).<br />
"'I have noticed that some people, particularly young, oversensitive souls,' Fr. Maximos said, breaking the silence, 'suffer so much from these logismoi that it often leads them into psychopathological conditions. They reach such states partly because of their ignorance of the nature of logismoi. Such persons who may be attacked by a perverted, or let us say a sinful logismos, are unable to realize that such a logismos does not necessarily emanate from within themselves, but is directed toward them from the outside. They feel guilty and begin what the late Paisios used to call the 'the repetition of those whys.' They become obsessive. Oversensitive persons become even more sensitive and blame themselves with all kinds of questions: "Why do I have such a thought, why?" Such people are in dire need of proper instruction on how to handle the logismoi,' Fr. Maximos pointed out. He went on to say that the most dangerous logismoi are those sent by demonic spirits that get support and get activated by our own passions. Logismoi coming from demons are extremely devious and duplicitous" (pg. 120).</blockquote>
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In all my life, I never had a single person ever talk to me about thoughts. I'm not blaming anyone, I'm pretty sure my own parents were not taught about logismoi and probably not my Sunday school teachers either. Or maybe they did teach about logismoi and I was sick that day. (Like I am convinced that I was home sick from school when they taught conversions of pints into quarts into liters. To this day I can't get any of that straight!) Whatever the case may be, THIS NEEDS TO BE TAUGHT TO EVERYONE! I have spoken with my eldest about logismoi (she's almost 14) and thankfully it has been discussed at summer camp as well. We deal with our thoughts 24/7 from birth to death. You would think this would be a topic to talk about. <br />
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I'll leave it at this for today. There will be at least one other post on Markides' books soon. <i>The Mountain of Silence </i>referenced above was followed up by <i>Gifts of the Desert </i>and then his latest which I have just finished called, <i>The Inner River</i>. <br />
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<br />Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-82542602442877996392012-07-23T12:35:00.004-07:002012-07-23T12:35:58.501-07:00Okey Dokey let's try this once moreOkay, I have had some serious computer issues going on...For whatever reason I couldn't log onto Blogger unless I used Google Chrome. So I download Chrome, post that last entry, and then I try to post another entry, and Chrome doesn't show up anywhere. I've been trying and trying and nothing worked until I tried today and it works. So this is just a test post to see what happens. If it works, then hip hip hooray! If not, well then you'll never know that I tried. Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-54786410016106936432012-06-07T22:43:00.000-07:002012-06-07T22:43:00.829-07:00Hello. I'm back.Well that was a long hiatus from blogging. Lots of stuff going on here (all good thankfully!) Kids are out of school now though, two are at summer camp and now I've got some free time to get back here.<br />
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When we last met I had done some posting on repentance. Hope you found it helpful...it was for me at least. Sometimes I think this blog is really more for me than anything else. It helps me to think out loud and connect those proverbial dots. I'm hoping that if I post something really wacky that I'll get a comment from someone telling me that I've officially lost my mind. I have had some people disagree with me on some stuff (privately not via the comment section). Nothing huge like I'm spreading heresy or anything but more along the lines that I'm not hardcore Orthodox enough. That's a fair assessment I think. Oh well...let us move onward.<br />
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So where to start up again? Yesterday, a good friend of mine suggested I do list of Orthodox Christian books that I like and maybe a little review of them. I manage my parish's bookstore and am familiar with many titles so I'll give it a shot. I was going to do a ranking but I have decided that can't rank them because I love many of them for different reasons. Additionally, we are in the process of moving and most of my books are in a storage facility that is probably close to 150° F. Call me crazy, but I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to venture in there at this time. I will start with the books that I either just purchased or I can borrow from our parish's library that I've already read.<br />
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Let me do some rummaging around and see what I can come up with. See you in a day or so.<br />
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<br />Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-61760372870077672772012-02-24T10:43:00.001-07:002012-02-24T11:39:23.350-07:00Forgiveness after Repentance<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYIRuUFcnOatqoUKcBT1trvsXG55iJL8zT5unUYBusMvlxqfH1sw2wferxxpboieH7wUYLrK7RUDjOMoMckE6d8FlQ3YryQeLEDSCC-Is-E8BZhnSZmQZDoaKHgELi2bxN1i1hb4oLWjs/s1600/phi35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320px" lda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYIRuUFcnOatqoUKcBT1trvsXG55iJL8zT5unUYBusMvlxqfH1sw2wferxxpboieH7wUYLrK7RUDjOMoMckE6d8FlQ3YryQeLEDSCC-Is-E8BZhnSZmQZDoaKHgELi2bxN1i1hb4oLWjs/s320/phi35.jpg" width="202px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. John the Baptist by the hand of Nicholas Papas. This icon can be purchased at <a href="http://www.comeandseeicons.com/j/phi35.htm">Come and See Icons.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> I am the lamest of lame of bloggers. Sheesh...I haven't posted anything in over a month and now look where we are! At the very threshold of Great Lent! I really dropped the ball on these repentance posts, although how appropriate that I accidently picked today to post, a feast of St. John the Baptist.<br />
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I have always wondered (and probably should have taken the time to ask a priest or someone who would know) what the big deal was about St. John the Baptist and why we have so many days in the year that we remember him in the Church. He has no less than 6 days (7 if you want to include the one in which we honor his parents Zachariah and Elizabeth) dedicated to him. Well it finally dawned on me that perhaps the reason we remember him so often is because of his core message of the Christian faith..."REPENT!" (It's not a bad thing to be reminded to repent during the course of the year. Seven times is probably not enough for me actually.)<br />
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Anyhow, if you are familiar with St. John's story, you know that he was martyred by beheading for his message of repentance. People generally don't like to be told to repent, although we all think we are St. John and ask others to repent all the time. And then the crazy part of that is once people <em><strong>do</strong></em> repent, we still don't forgive them. Case in point, Michael Vick. I just read an article last week of a poll taken that he is currently the most hated professional athlete in America. If you are not familiar with Mr. Vick, do a quick google of Michael Vick and dog fighting. He spent 548 days in a federal prison for some pretty heinous crimes involving dogs. However, since being released from prison in May of 2009, at least in the interviews I have seen/read, he seems to be a more mature and changed man. He returned to professional football after serving his time and was voted to the 2011 Pro Bowl (a big deal for an American football player). And yet in 2012, people still want to hate him. I'm not saying the guy is a saint, I don't know him personally, but what is it with people asking others to change and then not forgiving them once they do? (Here's a good article from <a href="http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,2044938-1,00.html">Time U.S.</a> about Michael Vick's journey if you are interested.) <br />
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We all have things in our lives that we are ashamed of, have repented of and do not want to be reminded of because of the pain it causes to our hearts. We are not the same person today as we were yesterday, last year, 10, 20, 30 years ago. And neither are the people around us. As we have repented and been forgiven by God and those we have hurt, so must we respect that others have done the same. Only God knows the sincerity of one's repentance, not you or me. All I am asked to do is to forgive those who wish to be forgiven (and forgive those who haven't asked too!) I'm not saying it's easy. It can be a real struggle sometimes because we like re-live the hurt others have caused and either exalt ourselves over them or use it as an excuse for our behaviours. Again, I know it's not always that simple, but it is a must-do if you consider yourself to be a Christian. One of my favorite parables that Christ gives us is the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant. Read it <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew%2018:21-35&version=NKJV">here</a> from Matthew 18:21-35. Pretty sobering stuff don't you think?<br />
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This Sunday, the day before the Fast begins, is called Forgiveness Sunday in the Orthodox Church. We ask forgiveness from God and each other. It allows us to start Great Lent with a clean slate and then step into the the Fast ready to repent, only focusing on our own failings and not that of others. It is an essential step in the journey towards the Feast of the Ressurection of Christ.<br />
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Forgive me dear readers if I have offended you today or any day. May you all have a blessed and fruitful Lenten journey.Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4430816887221599577.post-91376417623071876352012-01-20T10:43:00.003-07:002012-01-20T10:59:58.600-07:00Repentance DefinedBefore I begin postings of reflections on repentance, I'd like to offer this definition of repentance from the <a href="http://orthodoxwiki.org/Repentance">OrthodoxWiki</a> website:<br />
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<strong>Repentance is the feeling and act in which one recognizes and tries to right a wrong, or gain forgiveness from someone whom he wronged. In religious contexts it usually refers to repenting for a sin against God. It always includes an admission of guilt, and also includes at least one of the following: a solemn promise or resolve not to repeat the offense; an attempt to make restitution for the wrong, or in some way to reverse the harmful effects of the wrong where possible. </strong><br />
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<strong>In Biblical Hebrew, the idea of repentance is represented by two verbs: שוב shuv (to return) and נח nicham (to feel sorrow).</strong><br />
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<strong>In the New Testament, the word translated as 'repentance' is the Greek word μετάνοια (metanoia), "after/behind one's mind," which is a compound word of the preposition 'meta' (after, with), and the verb 'noeo' (to perceive, to think, the result of perceiving or observing). In this compound word the preposition combines the two meanings of time and change, which may be denoted by 'after' and 'different'; so that the whole compound means: 'to think differently after'. Metanoia is therefore primarily an after-thought, different from the former thought; a change of mind accompanied by regret and change of conduct, "change of mind and heart", or, "change of consciousness". One of the key descriptions of repentance in the New Testament is the parable of the prodigal son found in </strong><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%2015:11-32&version=NKJV"><strong>Luke 15:11-32</strong></a><strong>.</strong><br />
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Phew...that was so much easier than trying to explain it myself...I especially like that "change of consciousness" explanation. It is kinda like "Wake up! Look around! Think through your life and be honest with yourself and make a change!" Or as the parable linked to above says about the prodigal son "But when he came to himself..."(verse 17). It seems to me that a life lived in repentance is one in which you become more and more awake, a coming to yourself. Unfortunately, this current age in which we live has more and more in which to put us to sleep, more ways in which to distract ourselves from facing reality and to just float along at the surface. To ease our pains, instead of turning to repentance from which we will find healing, we turn to the safety of entertainment in all of its various forms. We have become a generation quite adept at pain avoidance. <br />
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In every worship service in Orthodox Christianity we pray "that we may complete the remaining time of our life in peace and in repentance...". Without repentance, salvation as defined by the Orthodox Church is unattainable, plain and simple. You can't go around cheating people or gossiping or casting people into eternal torment and fully expect, because you call yourself a Christian and go to church and read your Bible, that you will find salvation. It is non-sensical to even suggest that this could be possible. <br />
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"When Jesus heard it, He said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." Mark 2:17<br />
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And if the Apostle Paul can align himself with sinners, "this is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." 1 Tim 1:15, then it goes without saying that I am too. <br />
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So I think I've made my case about the importance of repentance. Next up, quotes from those who have lived their lives in repentance and have run the race in such a way that they have received their prize. <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1 Corinthians+9:24&version=NKJV">1 Cor 9:24</a>.<br />
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Desert Dwellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07634123982517005157noreply@blogger.com0