Journeying Home

“I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.”

In my personal opinion, I think the Symbol of Faith, or the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, is one of the most beautiful works of theology. I absolutely love the Christological, pneumatological and ecclesiological affirmations within the Creed. And I’m deeply moved whenever I think of the men and women who have valiantly lived and died for what the Creed affirms against paganism and heresies.

But my favorite line in the Creed is the last one. Being an eschatological affirmation, it resides properly at the end of the Creed. But because it comes at the end and also stands as a single simple statement alongside the larger complex formulations about Christ, the Holy Spirit and the Church, it almost seems like an afterthought. Yet, I know it isn’t and I anticipate stating this wonderful affirmation every time I recite the Creed at Church or in my personal prayers.

When I was an Evangelical Protestant, I had discovered that my eschatology was severely distorted. If I had even read the Creed back then, I would have equated “the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come” simply as “going to heaven when I die.” The goal of my Christian life was a non-temporal, non-spatial, disembodied existence called “heaven” after I died or after being raptured, just before God destroyed the planet. But that is not the biblical eschatological image within the New Testament.

Rather, the biblical image of the “life of the world to come” is God, through Christ, renewing this creation. This image is communicated in a variety of ways — God’s kingdom coming from heaven to earth (Matt 6:9-10), God gathering all things existing in the two dimension of heaven and earth back together (Eph 1:10), God leading creation in a new Exodus from its bondage into freedom (Rom 8:20-21), God reconciling all things within the two dimensions of heaven and earth (Col 1:19), and God’s city and throne moving from the heavenly dimension to make its ultimate home in the earthly dimension (Rev 21:1-2; 22:3-5).

And it’s within this renewed creation that redeemed humanity will be bodily resurrected and animated by God’s Spirit in order to realize the fullness of our vocation through our resurrected bodies — to fully gather creation and offer it to God and to fully reflect God into creation by our wise stewardship.

Why is this eschatological vision so important? A proper eschatological framework is just as essential as a proper Christological, pneumatological and ecclesiological framework for our life in Christ in the here and now.  Proper living in the present requires the proper vision of the future. Knowing and understanding, as best as possible, the telos or goal of God’s Creation, humanity and our personal life generates both the impulse and direction to move in the proper trajectory towards that future. It’s what we’re living for.

Let me use a simple, and albeit weak, metaphor. Let’s say I’ve decided to join a workout club. An essential component of exercising toward a healthy life is to learn how to use the equipment correctly .

Similarly, the Church provides us with many viable resources to train and enter into the life of Christ. The majority of the Creed instructs us how to properly engage in all that the Church offers. In other words, the proper understanding of Christ, the Holy Spirit and the Church provided by the Creed is necessary for correctly entering into and participating in the sacramental, ascetical, and communal life of the Church, which is the life of Christ. And by participating in the life of Christ through the life of the Church, we commune with God and are transformed by him.

But the last affirmation of the Creed — “I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come” — is the reason why I “joined the workout club” in the first place. It’s the ultimate reason why I want to commune with God and thus enter into the life of the Church as reinforced by the Creed — to become competent at dwelling and serving properly in God’s renewed world as he always intended for humanity. The last line of the Creed reminds me that my present participation in the life of the Church is training me to breathe, see, think, talk, relate, work, play and live in God’s coming renewed world. And by training towards it now, I’m actually beginning to live it now. Perhaps slowly at first, but hopefully with ever-increasing proficiency.

As we journey through Lent, the eschatological vision of God’s renewed creation appears on the horizon of my imagination and draws me forward. It is the reason why we journey through Lent. It is the vision that Jesus carried with him throughout Israel and ultimately to the cross in order to trample down death by death. It is the vision that Jesus inaugurated with his prototypical resurrection from the dead and continues to implement throughout history. And it is the vision he offers us as we follow him, commune with him, live in him, train to be like him and participate with him in the continual renewal and reconciliation of God’s creation. And, God helping, I will valiantly embody and affirm this vision as all those who have come before me.

This weekend has been such an exciting one. As I mentioned in my last post, I was gifted with a new Nikon D40x this past week. So I’ve spent the last couple of days shooting with this camera. And the experience has infused me with a renewed enthusiasm to develop my skills in digital photography. So much so that I started a simple photoblog to post my personal images.

Posting my images is more than just showcasing my limited abilities. No, I’ve learned that images speak in ways that words cannot. For the last six years, I have reflected personally and theologically on this blog through words. I enjoy writing. I love taking an idea and crafting words to express that idea. And I hope to continue with this endeavor, especially as I become more immersed and formed by the life of Christ in the Orthodox Church.

But I’ve discovered that theological thought is very different in Orthodoxy than my training and experience in western Protestantism. Theological reflection has been more of a conceptual exercise. Sure, personal reflection and practice have always been intimately connected with theology proper. But the order has been primarily idea first, then practice. This was constantly reinforced with the priority of study as the ever-present backdrop to all theological reflection. I think it also explains why much of my theological study has been accompanied with a constant battle with pride. These were my ideas and conclusions that I worked hard to discern, unravel and formulate.

Yet, in Orthodoxy, only those with deep lives of prayer are considered capable of being theologians. That’s because a life of prayer is a humble life in communion with God. I think it’s safe to say that I have a looong ways to grow. That’s not to say that I’ll stop studying, writing or thinking theologically. But it does mean I need to re-prioritize  my spiritual life so that I’m reformed inwardly. It’s much easier to study, write and think than it is to pray. Just like it’s easier to “proclaim” the Gospel than it is to live it,  or to go even further, to embody it.

Prayer is difficult not because it takes time, but because if practiced properly, it places us in constant vulnerability before God. We are exposed. We’re not asking for things as much as presenting our sin-filled, broken selves to a merciful God. As grateful as we are for the availability of God’s salvation, we are brutally aware of our constant need to actually be saved. As we pray in Divine Liturgy:

“I believe, O Lord, and I confess that Thou art truly the Christ, the Son of the Living God, Who camest into the world to save sinners, of whom I am first.”

The more I pray with the Orthodox Church, the more these words shift from a nice spiritual sentiment to the actual cry of my sin-filled heart.

That’s why photography is a wonderful medium of expression, reflection, and even prayer. My eye is being trained to “look for shots.” But it’s more than just capturing light, color and texture. There are shots that stir something deep within me. I don’t know why. I can look at a series of shots of the same subject and one will leap out, grab my attention and sometimes take my breath away.

Even though my eye is focused on a subject outside of myself, it’s actually reflecting something from within me. Something within me is responding to the beauty or truth expressed in that moment, in that image. And it’s something that escapes words.

For example, yesterday, I walked around the perimeter of my apartment complex and took a series of shots of things I see everyday. There were a number of shots that I looked at and immediately hit the delete button. There were several that I’m keeping to look at, reflect upon and develop further. And there are a couple that immediately struck at the depth of who I am.

One was the shot of the bricks that I posted on my photoblog. Another is an image of a trash dumpster that I want to develop and post soon. And another was this photo of a fence formed from distressed wood.

The knotted and scarred planks remind me of the saints, the men and women throughout history that experienced untold hurt, discipline and pain. And yet, the scars became intimate communion with God. The discipline was transformed into holy dispassion. These wooden planks remind me of the icons I venerate. Faithful lives that weathered the storms of adversity, eventually to be revealed as lives perfected in Christ for all of us to emulate.

And it stirs the longing to be found faithful in my life, to live a life worthy of my Lord. As Fr Patrick preached about on Sunday, I am stained with gluttony and lust and a variety of other sins. I am still shaped by my pleasure-seeking culture and scarred by my past participation. So I pray, “Lord, have mercy on me a sinner.” And as I pray, I am aware of the convergence of contradictions — the holy mercy of God and the absolute despair of my condition. As the two meet and kiss, there is not immediate relief. Nor should there be. For the injury goes too deep. It requires continual therapy, healing beneath the scarred surface. For the remedy is nothing less than the transformation of who I am. And that is Christ in me, the hope of glory of which St Paul wrote.

Perhaps that is why in Orthodoxy theology flows from prayer. One must become right in order to live and think right. Glory to God!

I am so amazed at how Orthodoxy is such a treasure house of resources for spiritual growth. One of these resources that I’m enjoying is written prayers. Throughout my entire Christian life, spontaneity was valued as being truly spiritual. This was especially true with prayer.

However, in his book, Beginning to Pray, Met Anthony Bloom states that while spontaneous prayer is a valid form of prayer, it’s only really possible in two situations. That’s because spontaneous prayer is a kind of prayer that “gushes out of our own souls.” Therefore, spontaneous prayer is only possible either in situations when we are vividly aware of God and that awareness calls forth a response of worship and joy or we are suddenly aware of our desperation and despair and cry out to God to save us. In this light, Met Bloom states:

“It [spontaneous prayer] comes from the depths of our soul, from either wonder or distress, but it does not come from the middle situation in which we are neither overwhelmed by the divine presence nor overwhelmed by a sense of who we are and the position in which we are. So that, at those moments, to try to use a spontaneous prayer is a completely illusory exercise.”

But Met Bloom also says it’s not enough to learn and use existing prayers, but also to live them. “A prayer makes sense only if it is lived.” He advises that when we discover a phrase in a prayer that makes sense, “you must try to apply it in the course of the day ruthlessly, for as long as you can.”

All of these thoughts on prayer came to a point when I read Shawn Ragan’s newest post, called “A Hymn of St Ephraim.” (Click on the link and take a moment to read the whole prayer.)

There is no way in my most creative and spiritual moments of spontaneity that I could have ever said anything like this. This is a prayer with which I resonate. It communicates the repentance I desire to experience, yet do not have the words to express. Orthodoxy is filled with such beautiful and powerful prayers as these.

Another prayer that we pray and with which Shawn ends his blog post is, “Through the prayers of our holy fathers, O Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on us and save us. Amen.” In this prayer, I’m not only asking for the intercessions of the Saints, who are in the presence of Christ, for my salvation, but I’m also asking that my own use of their prayers — both through my voice and my life — will be unto my salvation as well.

“At the center of the Icon New Media Network, we believe that Orthodox Christianity is the future of American Spirituality. Our desire is to introduce Orthodox Christianity to emergent, post-evangelical and non-Christian audiences. Through the use of new media (blogs, podcasts, video, etc.) we aim to create environments where Orthodox Christians and those interested in this radical ancient faith can converse about and collaborate on resources that lead to a fuller understanding of Christianity. This is done by providing places for people to gather and communicate both online and offline about the relevance and necessity of our 2000-year-old Church.”

The quote is from the Icon New Media Network website, a site in which I’m very interested. Although I haven’t explored the site in any depth, I’m excited about an Orthodox ministry dedicated to speaking to “emergent, post-evangelical and non-Christian audiences.” I love environments that are conducive to conversations. Call it rebellion, but I hate being told what I have to believe or do without a chance to talk, think and process.

For me, my association with the Emerging Church was a wonderful transition to explore the richness and fullness of Orthodox Christianity. I believe the same might be true for others in the Emerging Church. In addition, our culture is in a weird place. Whether we call it “postmodernity” or “liquid modernity” or some other label, our culture is not where it was thirty years ago. So any engagement that the Orthodox Church has with western culture will need to involve relationship and conversation.

Personally, I believe Jesus is still our best example. He is the Truth. His very being defines what Truth is. And one of the primary things we observe in Jesus is the relational nature of Truth. Truth is not cold, impersonal or abstract as western culture has tended to define it. Truth, as defined by Jesus, is personal and gives birth to true Life, Love and Reality. And the Orthodox Church has preserved the fullness of the Truth within its life and Tradition for centuries. One of the most amazing things I discovered about Orthodoxy this past year was how vibrant, Spirit-filled and life-giving its Tradition can be.

So, I’m excited about Icon New Media Network and any other Orthodox ministry that is willing to share the beauty, life and fullness of the Faith with those hungering for Christ and His Church.

I’ve started reading Beginning to Pray by Metropolitan Anthony (Bloom) of Sourozh and I’m really enjoying what he has to say. Most Protestant books on prayer that I’ve read seem too mechanistic as if what we do or say will somehow invoke God’s presence or response. Not so with this book. So far, this book is about plowing the soil of our own hearts, learning to become true pray-ers. Two quotes stand out, one about weakness and the other about humility.

Here’s the one on weakness:

“Weakness is not the kind of weakness which we show by sinning and forgetting God, but the kind of weakness which means being completely supple, completely transparent, completely abandoned in the hands of God… You could think of that [weakness] also in terms of a sail. A sail can catch the wind and be used to maneuver a boat only because it is so frail. If instead of a sail you put a solid board, it would not work; it is the weakness of the sail that makes it sensitive to the wind.”

And here’s the one on humility:

“The word ‘humility’ comes from the Latin word ‘humus’ which means fertile ground… Humility is the situation of the earth. The earth is always there, always taken for granted, never remembered, always trodden on by everyone, somewhere we cast and pour out all the refuse, all we don’t need. It’s there, silent and accepting everything and in a miraculous way making out of all the refuse new richness in spite of corruption, transforming corruption itself into a power of life and a new possibility of creativeness, open to the sunshine, open to the rain, ready to receive any seed we sow and capable of bringing thirtyfold, sixtyfold, a hundredfold out of every seed.”

There used to be a saying about prayer, “Prayer changes things.” Nowadays, I’m hoping prayer changes me as well. I hope I learn to embrace the proper weakness in which God’s power is manifested by making me humble.

Lord, may my life become like the dirt and soil of the earth; an ordinary, unobtrusive place where the pain and poison of this broken world silently fall, are absorbed, and miraculously transformed into new life.

I came across this line from an Orthodox funeral service and I think I found my new life statement:

“I am the image of Your inexpressible glory, even though I bear the wounds of sin.”

This weekend, Debbie and I had a good conversation about our journey to Orthodoxy. And as I reflected on our dialogue, I’ve become more aware of a few things.

God is truly leading our family in our journey to Orthodoxy. I have longed for a Christianity that is historically, spiritually and theologically rich and vibrant. And as I have mentioned in previous posts, we truly believe we have found it. Fr Thomas Hopko communicated the fullness of life and faith that we’re experiencing in Orthodoxy in his lecture, “When is Armageddon?” when he said:

“The Orthodox Church has nothing except everything we need… What we need is God the Father, the Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit and the Scriptures, the sacramental life of the Church, the liturgical services of the Church and the teachings, the witness and the blood of the saints.”

As a father, it is moving when I listen to my children recite the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed or pray the Lord’s Prayer, or when I watch them cross themselves or venerate an icon. We have found a place where our children will be raised in the fullness of the Faith.

I wish I could explain how utterly awe-inspiring and humbling it is to participate in a virtually unchanging Divine Liturgy that Christians globally and historically have used for centuries, a Divine Liturgy that faithfully has escorted millions of Christians to a moment that transcends time and space into God’s kingdom and communion with our Lord, God and Savior Jesus Christ. 

And it’s a wonderful thing to know that unlike my evangelical experience, there will never be a need for “trends” or “movements” (i.e. charismatic movement, Purpose-driven life movement, spiritual warfare movement, church growth movement) because we have and will always have everything we need to journey into Christ’s life and likeness. Everything we need is here. In Orthodoxy, to borrow again from Fr Hopko, we have “The Holy Spirit, who lives in the life of the Church through the Scriptures, the Sacraments, the Services and the Saints.” While there surely is room for further reflection, study, and adaptation, there is absolutely no need for additions or supplements to our faith and practices.

Now having said this, I’m also aware that everything I have experienced beforehand has been God-ordained. I am eternally grateful for the churches and movements I’ve participated in during my journey with Christ. 

In Calvary Chapel, I came to know Christ as my Lord and Savior and to cultivate a love for the Scriptures. 

In Youth With a Mission, I explored and confirmed my calling into ministry, participated in overseas missions, and learned how to live in Christian community. 

At the First Baptist Church in Azusa, I was entrusted with my first youth ministry and opportunities to preach and teach.

At the San Gabriel Valley Japanese Christian Church, I experienced a vibrant Christian community and was given further room to grow in various ministries, including worship, youth, and preaching.

In the Vineyard, I experienced God’s intimacy and learned to live with risk-taking faith. It was there that I learned all of the aspects of local church ministry and honed my personal and ministerial values.

In the Emerging Church, I enjoyed the freedom of theological and missional exploration, the creativity of making theology accessible and relevant to everyone, and the camaraderie of theological conversation where everyone learned from one another without agenda and power struggles.

So as my family and I stand on the threshold of entering the Orthodox Church, I recognize that my being here is the natural and logical destination of my journey in and through all that I have mentioned. I can see God’s hand in each place in the journey as he used different people and movements to “tutor” me into a more vibrant and well-rounded faith that ultimately has led me here. I hold many fond memories and valuable lessons dear to me and know that I would not be here if not for God leading me in and through Calvary Chapel, YWAM, the Baptist Church, the Japanese Church, the Vineyard, the Emerging Church, as well as Azusa Pacific University, Fuller Theological Seminary and many other people and influences along the way. I admit that all of my experiences have been a mingling of joy and pain. But I truly love where I have been.

As I affirm the fullness of the Orthodox Church, it is not to discredit or disparage those in my past, but to thank and appreciate all who have contributed to my journey. Because of them I am here. Aware of this, my zeal for the Orthodox faith is not a renunciation of all I have learned and experienced as it is the affirmation of all the good I have learned and experienced. With deep thankfulness and gratefulness, I pray I am able to bring all of that good with me into my Orthodox faith.

This is very important to me because I’m also very aware that one brings his or her baggage into the Orthodox faith. An angry Protestant Christian simply becomes an angry Orthodox Christian. An insensitive Roman Catholic Christian simply becomes an insensitive Orthodox Christian. I bitter Emerging Church Christian simply becomes a bitter Orthodox Christian. Recently, I’ve heard Orthodox Christians on a few occasions speak with anger or mockery about the Protestant faith from which they have converted. And this saddens me. It contributes to the perceived superiority and exclusivity of Orthodoxy held by many. There is absolutely no grace in that kind of behavior. And being fully aware of the wounds and anger still residing in my own heart, I know I can easily become like this as well. 

So I hope and pray for grace, for generosity, for the ability to listen to another’s perspective, for understanding, and ultimately for love. My goal in converting to Orthodoxy is that I would become a better man, to become like Jesus so that I would learn to love God, people and creation better as time goes on.

Shawn Ragan points to a wonderful two-hour video by Fr Thomas Hopko called “When is Armageddon?” I converted it into an audio file and listened to it yesterday during my commute to work. I’ve always enjoyed Fr Hopko’s teaching and this gem of a lecture encapsulates a lot of why I enjoy him. In many ways, a lot of what Fr Hopko teaches in regard to the Gospel, the Incarnation and eschatology aligns with what I enjoyed in N.T. Wright’s teaching, but from a distinctly Orthodox perspective. Here is a nugget from the first half of the lecture:

“This world, as we know it, is not destroyed and the New Creation is not made out of nothing. The renewed creation is this world saved, redeemed, sanctified, deified, glorified by the risen Christ, who in the Apocalypse is the Son of God, the Son of Man, and 38 times, the Lamb of God who is slain, who is dead and is alive again and is fighting against the Beast, which is the symbol of Babylon, this world that is not only against God, but in place of God.”

That one quote alone is absolutely awesome. One of the major popular evangelical doctrines I abandoned years ago (with N.T. Wright’s influence) was the distorted eschatology that God will one day destroy this world. This doctrine is intimately linked with the popular doctrine of the rapture, which I also abandoned years ago, and contributes to the false idea that God is only interested in saving souls, which he would someday extract from this creation that was destined for destruction. But that’s not the biblical image. God created this world and placed humans as the caretakers of this world to govern and nurture this world as his image-bearers. As humanity goes, so creation goes. When we plunged ourselves into disobedience and distortion, we dragged creation with us. And as St Paul says in Romans 8: 19-21:

“For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.”

Creation isn’t yearning for its own destruction. It’s yearning for its freedom and renewal that will be realized through the life of Christ in and through God’s children. That’s because creation isn’t an afterthought nor simply the backdrop to the human drama. Look at the relationship between Christ and creation that St Paul describes in Colossians 1:15-16:

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers — all things have been created through him and for him.”

Christ is the firstborn of all creation. This world is his and is not destined for destruction. This world was created in him, through him and for him. And it will be re-created in him, through him and for him.

As Christ renews humanity, creation’s caretakers, he renews creation. That’s why I love the words Fr Hopko uses to describe the renewed creation — saved, redeemed, sanctified, deified and glorified by the risen Christ. Those words are normally associated with humanity, but he uses them to describe the renewed creation. And ultimately, when we jump to the end of Revelation, it is this renewed earth that finally becomes the place where God’s throne dwells. Jesus’ prayer, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” is finally fulfilled in the renewed creation.

Eschatology is extremely important to me. Christians are to be eschatological people. We are to learn how to live in the present in anticipation of God’s future. So how we understand God’s future determines how we live right now. If we believe that God is going to destroy this world once he’s extracted all of his redeemed people from it, ala the Left Behind series, then we don’t need to live with any kind of impulse toward issues such as environmental responsibility and social responsibility since “it’s going to burn anyways.” But if we believe that we are truly God’s ordained stewards of his creation and that he is saving, redeeming, sanctifying, deifying and glorifying this world by Christ and through us as Christ’s people and followers, then we will live very differently right now.

I’ve been thrilled to discover that the Orthodox Church is very eschatologically-aware. The Divine Liturgy is eschatological. Here’s a quote from a recent blog post by Fr Stephen Freeman:

“Christianity is inherently eschatological – it is precisely about the end of things and about a very specific end. The meaning of Orthodox worship is found in the fact that we believe ourselves to be standing in the very end of all things as we celebrate the Divine Liturgy. Even the Second Coming is referred to in the past tense. The End has come and Christ is victorious and as His people, Baptized into His death and resurrection, that End is our hope and our own victory.”

In Orthodoxy, eschatology shapes everything — our worship, our daily living and our mission. We follow Christ, obey his commands, wait in vigil, participate in the Divine services, ask for intercession from the saints, and pray in anticipation of the eschaton — the age to come when the world is fully renewed in Christ and flooded with God’s glory as God’s throne is finally established on earth as it is in heaven.

     

This morning, our family was enrolled as catechumens at St Peter’s. While it was a fairly short moment, it was filled with much significance and meaning. Several years ago as an Evangelical, I read the following quote from St Cyprian of Carthage, who lived in the early 3rd century:

On Monday night, Debbie and I met with Fr Patrick and Kh Christina to let them know that our family is ready to become catechumens. For those unfamiliar with the process, catechumens are those whom the Orthodox Church receives as now preparing to join the Orthodox Church through baptism or chrismation. Up to this point, we have been recognized as inquirers, those interested in and learning about the Orthodox Church. But this coming Sunday morning, we turn a major corner in our journey into Orthodoxy as we officially enter the catechumenate.

Fr Patrick told us that the major distinction between inquirers and catechumens is a shift from information to formation. As inquirers we have been gathering information about the Orthodox Church. Now that we have decided to bring our family and lives into Orthodoxy, the process changes to preparing us to enter and engage in the full life of the Church. Our preparation during this time will focus primarily on preparing for confession and receiving our first Eucharist.

Why these two area? First, confession prepares us to fear the Lord and to enter into a life of humility. The foundation to spiritual growth is authentic repentance and humility before God. Confession is the sacrament and spiritual discipline that will help us learn by grace this valuable trait.

Second, the Eucharist is THE center of worship and life. It is THE moment when we truly have communion with the living God, taking his actual presence into our bodies and thus becoming his Body in the world.

So after spending nine months at St Peter the Apostle Antiochian Orthodox Church, we are ready to take the plunge into Holy Orthodoxy. In many ways, what our family has been doing can be likened to the journey a couple takes toward marriage. Our time as inquirers was like dating, spending lots of time getting to know both Orthodoxy and the people at St Peter’s. This Sunday, we will be “engaged.” Having gotten to know Orthodoxy and St Peter’s these several months, we are convinced that this is where Christ has been leading our family. And like any newly engaged couple, we’re excited, but also a bit nervous. As Fr Patrick told us Monday night, Orthodox Christianity is invasive (as authentic Christianity should be). It fills and transforms every part of our lives. As we anticipate our new life as Orthodox Christians, we still have many questions that will be answered further along in our journey. But we know we have made the right decision and look forward to our full reception into the Orthodox Church in the next several months through baptism or chrismation.

There are a lot of little details that I thoroughly enjoy about Orthodoxy in general and our local parish, St. Peter’s, specifically.

One of the things I enjoy at St. Peter’s is our church bulletin. Each week, the bulletin is about seven pages long and contains that Sunday’s Gospel and Epistle readings, congregational responses, information about upcoming events, fasts and feasts, information about the lives of specific saints and thought-provoking and challenging articles and quotes.

Debbie read me one of the quotes from this week’s bulletin that was tucked away on the back cover:

“The reason [that we don’t all become saints] is within us. Firstly, due to our bad intent. Secondly, due to our neglect and laziness. Thirdly, due to the lack or complete absence of love for God and the things of heaven. Fourthly, due to our complete love of money, our devotion to material things, and our low-mindedness.”
Elder Philotheos of Paros

This quote struck me like something a coach would say to an aspiring athlete who, though full of potential, had grown complacent. In fact, it reminded me of something St. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 9:24-27:

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.”

And in 1 Timothy 4:7, he tells St. Timothy, “Train yourself to be godly.”

Yes, we are called to be saints in the Bible. But the Bible also calls to train into actually becoming saints. It’s great to be part of a church community that takes this call very, very seriously.

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I absolutely love singing this song during Divine Liturgy. I always look forward to it and my heart soars every time we sing it. There is so much beauty, history and faith in this confession.

 

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Fr Stephen has a wonderful post on a sacramental worldview. Here’s a quick excerpt:

“Without a truly “sacramental” world-view, the presence of God and of all things holy remain alien to our life and are reached only occasionally and with great difficulty (if at all)…

“There is a vast difference and distinction between a world-view which allows for such things as sacraments and a world-view which understands that all of creation is a sacrament. With the first, one can be religious from time-to-time. With the latter, communion with God is a way of life and the whole of life.

Everything is changed in such an understanding. It is in just such a context (and quoting from Scripture) that we can understand that the Church not only reads the Scriptures, but is itself the Scriptures (see my earlier series on an Orthodox hermeneutic). In the same way we not only eat the Body of Christ, we also are the Body of Christ.”

You can read the entire post HERE.

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