On Great Lent

Christ is in our midst!

Every Sunday, the faithful of the Orthodox Church affirm this truth. Rarely, however, do we believe it as we say it. It has functionally come to be much the same as "Hey, friend," as we look for an excuse to touch the person next to us and possibly share a laugh. It hardly ever has the effect on us that it should. It calls us to approach those with whom we don't already have outstanding rapport and establish that even in this broken relationship "Christ is in our midst" and we can begin to love one another properly. The Kiss of Peace, then, is a powerful act of love, and not a mere opportunity for socialization among the faithful of a parish. It is not for fraternization with friends, but is a true call to seek and give forgiveness. It allows for me, the sinner, to approach you, the sinned against, and say, "Listen, pal. I know I've done a lot of shit, but the deal is this: Christ is in our midst, and he calls me to approach you and seek your forgiveness." When this is understood, you, the sinned against, will have no choice but to say, "He is and ever shall be, and yeah, I noticed you were kind of a dick, but as I allow Christ's presence to dwell between us, I feel less resentment and can begin to view you as my brother again." We Orthodox affirm weekly that the Lord of all became man and dwelt among us as one of us. We who were separated from him by our sin and darkness, are brought to him through his exceeding love for us. How can this love, which repairs the broken bonds of human relationship, not be transformative in its very nature?  It must be. It is.

I think of this weekend being the last before Great Lent is officially started with the conclusion of Forgiveness Vespers on Sunday and how appropriate it is that we begin the fast with forgiveness. I have so many relationships in my life that I have transgressed and need to seek this forgiveness, miserable sinner that I am. Even since I have been home, it has become abundantly clear how my relationship with my parents is broken, and how I continue to offend their love and grace. Lord, have mercy. I can only imagine how I have wronged my friends as well, and it's truly a humbling thought – especially for someone who sort of prides himself on his ascent to "superhero" status in friendship. The hope that Great Lent offers begins with embracing the forgiveness that Christ offers us and that we offer one another by practicing his presence amidst us. Again, if we can truly begin to accept that Christ dwells in our midst, how could we have any choice but to seek and bestow forgiveness readily?

This forgiveness does not necessarily mean that everything is restored to "hunky-dory" status. Oh, no. This is just the beginning of the work. I understand that, and it's something that is truly difficult for me to accept. I would so much rather believe that I should just be trusted right away after being forgiven, or that I should bestow trust readily. Doing either of these things, however, cheapens the forgiveness by suggesting that transformation is not necessary. This forgiveness that I experience from God is the catalyst for great change in my life. This is the reason that we have Lent at all. It is a time of hope that looks to the Passion, Crucifixion, and Resurrection of our Lord who delivers us from death unto new life in him. We no longer have to be subject to the law of death which took such bondage over us before, but we can walk in newness always. Forgiveness is the first step toward walking in new life with Christ. Lord, have mercy.

After meeting with Marianne today, I was brutally aware of how selfish I have been in my relationships. I have used just about every relationship in my life for some gain. I don't know that I could, or even should, necessarily verbalize exactly how, but I was aware that I am an utterly broken man. I have failed to have faith in and love God. I have failed to love my parents. I have failed to love my neighbor. In doing all of these things, I have failed to love myself. As I look toward Great Lent, I remember that Christ, however, offers free and total forgiveness of these sins. The forgiveness, however, is not the end of my journey with him. I must prepare my heart to be undone and healed by his grace. I must enter into the season of Lent and become ready for the Passion, Crucifixion, and Resurrection of the Lord – it is not just observing the Feast days, but it is participating in them. Truly, it was Christ who died and rose again, but I also partake in this Mystery. I join him through baptism, through communion, through confession, through virtuous deeds, et al. Lord, have mercy. By his grace, I must be transformed into his likeness more fully. He who dwelt among men, now seeks to dwell within men, and how blessed am I that he accounts me worthy, though unworthy, to be a recipient of his Divine Mysteries? Why do I continue to doubt his presence and so avoid true transformative grace? Lord, have mercy upon me.

I am especially looking forward to Lent this year, I must admit. With so much having changed regarding my circumstances of life, I was beginning to despair that only my circumstances were capable of changing, and that I myself was immune to such fortune. When I, however, consider the beauty and power of pre-Lenten Forgiveness Vespers and, finally, the season of Great Lent afterwards, I am reminded that I can, in fact, change. I understand that Christ offers redemptive hope. I do not have to be weighed down by sins forever. He continues to reach out, and as I become more and more aware of his presence, my life will change around me. Of course, I'll never fail to see my need for forgiveness and grace either, assuming this change of the heart continues. How could I see that? If I am continually made aware of his presence and grace, how will anything but understanding my need for his presence in grace occur? How could I ever say, "Oh, thanks God. I'll take it from here"? Lord, have mercy. Lent is a time where I can look myself in the mirror and say, "Christian, you don't have to be this way forever. God offers you forgiveness today. He asks you to walk in his presence. Will you accept this?" It is the time where changing our diets, the most fundamental part of our human existence, can mirror this call toward newness, a change, repentance, metanoia – the changing of one's mind. It is this time, now, where we can continue to hope that God will have mercy upon us and grant us continual grace and forgiveness of our sins. By changing our diets, we pray that our minds, hearts, and spirits can be changed as well. As I embrace the forgiveness that God has to offer and the newness in the life of Great Lent, I pray that God will work in me, changing my heart so I can become aware of his presence among and within us, and finally begin to love my neighbor as I love myself.

On Practicality

I am a theorizer through and through - which is okay if that fact is balanced with a healthy relationship to the practical parts of life. I am wondering why I have such a joy to sit around and pontificate about the nature of the human condition and make abstractions about how what we really need to do is start loving each other and how people are really good deep down if we look for it, and yet, when it comes to waking up every morning to find a job, I am painfully far from the mark of a man. Though reading a book such as Marion's The Idol and Distance is an excruciatingly complex endeavor, and mind melting one at that, it is nonetheless a true pleasure for me. When it's time to consider picking up The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, though, I begin to tremble with nervousness and a little bit of boredom.

Let's face the facts:

I am twenty-three years old. I have a Bachelor's Degree. I am a Christian. I live with my parents. And I, basically, have no job. Also, I try to ruthlessly assert myself as a man. When it comes down to it, though, my status in life is little better than a high schooler.

This is distressing to me.

I have always wanted to get married and have a family and be a good man. I want to believe in the equality of all people and their respective, objective importance in the world. These are lofty goals for someone who can't even determine to get out of personal debt - goals that I am worthy of, even in the slightest way.

I sit around, day after day, expecting my parents to take care of me and offer me good after good, maintaining that I will look for a job "when I'm ready." Wow. What is manly about that? How can I expect to be a family man, a provider, when I can't even begin to provide for myself? How, in the past, could I have dated women and asked them to take a chance on me that, in a couple years, I would get it together well enough to the point where I could make a Mrs. of them? What boldness. What arrogance. What entitlement!

I write all this from a place of great fatigue, having slept a mere hour and a half last night, so even as I am writing I am finding myself getting lost in my thoughts and my inability to express the nature of my predicament very well. It basically comes down to this: I need to get it together. I can't wait around any longer until a Job falls into my lap; I just need a job. Any job. If I were able to just begin to feed myself without my parents help, I would be making a step in the right direction - toward manhood. Toward courage.

I'm too intelligent to be in the situation that I'm in. I don't mean this to say that I'm uber-intelligent, but the facts are that I'm college educated and lack the practical experience in life to own that I can't take care of myself and that this is unacceptable. Again, how can I begin to think about being someone's husband or father when I'm still a child in my parents' house?

They are wonderful people, my parents, but I can't sit around and let them be mommy and daddy forever. I can't keep playing the constant mind game with them and myself that one of us has to be in control or have higher ground. They have provided me with a home, for now, to get my act together so I can grow up. Why have I not leapt at this opportunity? In a lot of way, I think I am more of a man than ever before, but in the area of self-actualization by the grace of God (paradoxical, perhaps unorthodox), I, again, am painfully far from the mark - sinner that I am.

No more, says I. This is where this needs to stop. I should be joyfully embracing this time instead of shying from it or thinking of it as a pain in the ass (which it is). I have an opportunity to become a man and work through things that I don't want to do. I can do something for myself. I can take care of myself in a very practical way that will most likely lead to many other things falling into place with increasing ease (or at least less resistance on my part). This is the first big hurdle, the first big step, and it's probably the scariest. Again, I find myself in a crucial place where I can either rise to glory, or I can fall to the pits of despair and become like my father who never let anyone tell him what to do and hardened his heart against his family, his life, and God. I don't want any of that. God, help me.

It's time to figure this out and make something happen.

I love deeply, and it really would be a shame if I never got to share that with someone just because I refused to grow up and get a job.

On Growing Up

I used to think I was a Toys-R-Us kid. I really did. I never wanted to become the gross old man who just sat on his porch yelling at kids like my-then-self to get off his property. What's the charm in that? It's really just crotchety. No thanks. I wanted to be a kid forever - nothing but planes, trains, and video games to worry about. It's a good thing, I think, that as we grow, our sentiments begin to do so as well. If that doesn't happen, well, things can turn pretty dismal. The hours of entertainment, of childhood make-believe, if not properly sorted through upon, inevitably, arriving at adulthood can lead to never growing up. The thing is, time doesn't wait for us - our bodies don't wait for us. We sit around and find new, adult-themed way to entertain ourselves, to make-believe. Some are physically healthier than others, but they all basically stem from an obstinacy rooted in an indelible desire to never grow up.

Tonight, I got a new glimpse of myself. Though I don't sit around and smoke pot and sit in front of the television all night, I may as well. We have this idea, and rightly so, that drugs are bad because they take us out of ourselves and help us forget the day, turning us into a different version of ourselves that perhaps we enjoy more readily. While chemical intoxication doesn't appeal to me, escaping from myself has a particular allure. I do it readily without the help of drugs. How am I any better than my brothers who escape themselves with chemicals? I'm not. For this reason, stoners, alcoholics, addicts of any kind really, don't seem terribly foreign to me. I guess I would rather just collapse into myself like a dying star than go out with a bang, which might be even more dangerous. At least for the addict or drug-user, he can come to the end of himself at some point, realizing that the drugs just don't offer the same high. With the depressive-anxious among us, well, there's really no telling to how low we can sink. It's not hard sink lower and lower, and really, the human heart is infinite and capable of great(terrible) despair.

My isolation from the world, my family, my friends, even, takes me so deep into myself that there's really no telling when I'll reemerge. It's scary for those around me, no doubt. My family, God bless them, when they see this retreat into entertainment, self-destruction, they readily try to offer help, and I, callously, ignore it. My family, the people who want nothing more than to see me flourish and breathe fully the greatness of God's grace, must be utterly baffled that I would shy away from such benevolence, and choose Facebook instead. I have come to be ruled by the things I love wrongly. If I loved them rightly, I would have a full life. If I trusted in God, what a good life I would have! Television and movies would offer a new way of viewing life so that I could reengage while calling on the name of the Lord. Instead, I have come to view them as alternate realities in which I wish I could write for TGS with Tracy Jordan or look like Jim Halpert or fly like Peter Petrelli. Why do I choose these other worlds that don't exist in lieu of the grace, goodness, and love of God the Father through Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit?

My childish imagination has stayed put, refusing to grow up, continuing to live in a Toys-R-Us world, and I am terrified by the horrible, grim, true, wonderful reality of working and repentance. Is it really such a terrible thing to grow up? How could it be? If I existed in reality and regarded myself properly, I would continue to push myself in that direction, I think. I would understand the beauty of the Lord more fully, I would see the glory of my neighbor, and gladly offer myself to him and them as a sacrifice. What is my time to me? What good is it if I am not offering myself to God and to his Church? Why have I been given this life if I am going to refuse to show up for it?

Growing up is perhaps the most important thing to do. I don't want to grow old in childhood, I want to be there. No wonder Ivan wanted to kill himself upon reaching 30. He understood that life really would just become boring if he himself did not have a dynamic self that grew up as he grew old. How long can I drink from the cup of my broken childhood? Why would I want to? God can't reach me in the past of my childhood, in a faulty imagination. I have to offer it to him as it is, right now. How can I think possibly that sitting around in my room all day is possibly going to lead to my eternal salvation and life in Christ? How can I claim to live in him when I don't even want to claim that I have a self to let live? I die slowly at my keyboard each day and refuse to humble myself before the almighty Christ who bore my flesh nature and hung on the cross with his arms wide calling me to him. No longer. By God's grace, no more! May it not be that I continue to escape his glory. Where can I go to hide from him? The psalmist asked that question centuries ago, and he came to the end of himself realizing that the answer is NOWHERE. There is neither height nor depth that can separate me from him. How can I be so bold to ignore his calling? Who do I think I am? Are my plans to sit around and twiddle my thumbs really all that important? Preposterous thinking! May it never be!

It becomes clear to me, then, that if I continue to hide in my childish wishes to never grow up, then I will err fatally. Christ is the Vine and we are the branches - branches are supposed to grow are they not? If they do not or yield no fruit, are they not, then, dead and consequently severed? Lord, have mercy. I don't want to be a Toys-R-Us thinker, but I want to dwell fully in the presence of God in whom my identity is found. And really, as it has been said, "If he is for us, who can be against us?" Really. Who is there that would dare butt heads with he who vanquished Death? You'd have to be a damn fool to do that.

As we continue to grow up, in body, heart, soul, strength, and mind, doesn't it make sense that God would continue to fill those things even more as well? If my imagination grows up, how much more will God enter that space and make it his? And what joy waits for us, then, as we continue to grow! Lord, have mercy.

Growing up is, though, scary and difficult. Letting go of any habit that you've had for the majority of your life has to be. I'm in the particular habit of hiding from my life, refusing to let God get me where it hurts. As I, however, begin to bring that part of myself before him, he will be good and faithful to kill and resurrect it and make it his and whole. As he enters and confirms my life, he will make me an approved doer of his work, but only if I let him reach all the parts I'm afraid of anyone knowing. But again - where can I hide? How can I think that there may escape from his notice even one part of me, one sin, or one iota of thought? If these things, which are hidden from even me, can be touched by his love, then there is hope for the destruction of the despair that plagues my life. He sets captives free, and I am bound by despair, anxiety, and inability to grow up.

Growing up is necessary, unpleasant work. Lucky for us, however, our God knows something about necessary, unpleasant work. Let's talk for a second about the destruction of Hades, shall we?

On Talents

This present reality is God’s greatest gift. I guess I don’t really know what that is supposed to mean. Well, maybe I do. Actually, I’m pretty sure that I can figure it out.

Here I sit, right now. Right now. This moment. This instant. It’s the only one I have. How can I sit around and expect to amount to something “one day?” That’s a little presumptuous, I think. I can’t expect that I can just sit around on life and that the same blessings, same gifts will be accessible to me. Marianne said that my father had gifts, too, but he let them die. He failed to become a man and let his blessings fall to crap, and he curled up around the big pile he made for himself. He died that way.

What, then, can I do with what my gifts are right now? Do I need to focus on them, or do I simply continue to repent and do all I can to serve God in whatever way possible? Yes. Obviously, I do that. That seems like a no-brainer of Christian life. Why is it so hard to do, then? I guess I’m just so unable to live in the present moment of things that I let everything that is good about me go to waste. I don’t value where God has placed me enough. I continue to be presumptuous and think that “the golden job” will simply fall into my lap. No. That’s no way to live.

I was thinking about the whole “saved by grace through faith” dilemma. I remember growing up thinking that all my faith was supposed to do was deliver me from hell, and it was grace because I didn’t deserve to be saved from hell. Not entirely so. My priest yesterday was talking about the synergy of the Christian’s relationship with God. Faith is action. It makes sense. It’s not that I’m saved by the deeds that confirm faith, but it’s sort of like thinking of God’s grace of salvation as a train. Faith is the vehicle that gets me to the train station. Even that is a flawed analogy, but I guess it helps to think about what exactly the nature of faith should be, though. It’s what enables us to get nailed by grace. And faith is something that can only happen in this present moment. Any other time is either presumption/despair (future) or regret (past). I constantly must put myself in the way of God. He’s waiting for me to do it, but he’s not going to force me to. He’s a very patient God.
So, why do I insist on waiting? What am I waiting for anyway? What keeps me from running straight into the arms of God, my Father, the Giver of all good things?

Fear. Plain and simple. Fear coupled with despair. Wow. Is that really it? It must be.
It is in every moment that I am able to turn to him. This present reality is God’s greatest gift. It is there that God can hit me. If the present reality is ever before me, how can I fail to see my need for him and his grace and his love for mankind? If I stay here, stay in the room, I will see the people God has placed before me and the joy of the world. It is impossible to miss. “May those who have eyes, see, and those who have ears, hear.” God, make me worthy to see and hear. How can I see something or hear something if I am not around to hear it? How can I experience life if I don’t show up for it? Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.

So if I remain present and focus on the ineffable goodness of God’s love and the insurmountable heights of his glory and grace, that means I acknowledge God’s wisdom in making me a part of the present reality. Right? I don’t disappear from it, but have a place in the world, a place in the room. If I fail to acknowledge my place in the reality that God has ordained, I still fail to be present. So I must recognize my proper place in that reality, and along with that goes acknowledgment of gifts and weaknesses. Acknowledging gifts can seem haughty, but if it is coupled with acknowledgment of crippling fear and impeding despair, there is healing, joy, and grace. Praise be to God for this.

So why is it so difficult to embrace gifts of God? If I embrace them as characteristics of myself, truly I become proud and make way for every other sin to enter - especially despair. If, however, I acknowledge them as gifts, I am compelled to use them humbly. God, have mercy. What a strange paradox humanity is. So why do I think that my resistance to embrace the gifts God has given me is the humble route? It’s not. It’s the most proud way there could possibly be. “I know I have these gifts, but I’m not going to use them.” What the hell, man? Who do I think I am? More importantly, what gives me the right?

Marianne told me recently, “Stop messing with the DNA that God gave you, and embrace it.”

Awesome.

How do I do that? How, how, how?

By getting present. Yes. Be where you are, with whom you are. “Draw near to Christ and he will draw near to you.” What are these gifts that he has given me? I guess I’m afraid to find out. I don’t want to be one of the servants who lets his talents go to waste, not yielding return on them. More than that, though, I don’t want to be a servant with talents at all. Since, however, that is a ridiculous thing to ask because I can’t do anything about what God has given me. I can either embrace and love it or reject it and hide, and so, become my father who let his talents go to waste, burying them underground. Not wanting gifts is basically like saying that I don’t want to even be alive at all. “I hate to breathe, so I refuse to acknowledge the existence of air.” Preposterous, at best. Is there a difference between the things I love and the things I am good at? Maybe not. As with anything, it takes training. So, maybe, while I love loving people, and am not good at it, I can see this as a gift of mine. I fail to love perfectly - duh - but that doesn’t mean that I can’t grow in love, right? The talents of Christ yield great return only when they are put to use. So that means I might lose some gain before it’s made up and ends up being more than I was given originally. Right? I love writing, but that means I’m going to have to write some pretty terrible things before I get it right, doesn’t it? I can’t just walk into a conversation about philosophy (though I love it) and get anything out of it unless I first misunderstand. It is through this haziness and imperfection that more clarity and wholeness is brought about.

So instead of messing with this DNA that God has given me - the DNA that longs for connection with other people - I should embrace it and get used to the fact that I WILL NOT LOVE PERFECTLY. It simply can’t be done, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t redemption or hope. Thank God for his abundant mercy and love!

My main gift is that I am a people person. I thank you, O God, for this gift! My desire is to help them. I long to see others become fulfilled in God’s love and grace and to realize and actualize their callings. I want to bless all the world. I want to love everyone. I want to see and embrace others indiscriminately. I don’t want to hate anyone for anything or judge them for any misdeed. People are not the summation of their failings, but are the image of God. We are called to glory. We are called to forgiveness. We are called to resurrection from death. Who among us has not sinned? Who among us has not hated? Who among us is without hope? There is no such thing - if so, what kind of God do we worship? What kind of God is he who lets people perish hopelessly from the face of the earth? But he is not that God. He is a good God who restores the lost and seeks the sick. Praise be to him, now and always!

Teach me, O Lord. Break me. Humble me. Restore me. Strike me down and raise me up that I may forever call on your name. Teach me to love others as you do. This is my desire. To minister to the broken, to offer help to the helpless, to preach healing of the soul and body. There is grace. There is love. There is you, O Lord.

Have mercy, O God. Have mercy. Lord, heal us. Save us. Protect us. Help us embrace the gifts you have given us and teach us to use them for your glory and for the good of the world and the Church.

Christ is in our midst.

He is and ever shall be.