Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog… Now He's Eastern Orthodox?

One of the characters that I like the most was Gandalf. He’s the guy you love to have around, but every time you turn around he’s gone missing, only to turn up again at the last second. Even when he gets mad, as long as you’re not on the other end of his anger, he’s pretty funny.

To the hobbits, he is the delightful maker of fireworks and smoke rings. To men he is a mysterious wanderer. The elves and dwarves each have their views of him as well. But veiled under figure of an old man with a long beard, pointed hat and a staff, is a power beyond what any of them realize. More than just a quirky wizard with a short temper.

As I have been sharing in a few of the recent posts, I am discussing the book The Mystery Of Faith by Bishop Hilarion Alfeyev with my priest as the text of my catechism. We are going over the section on the sacraments. The sacrament that I found most interesting is that of Ordination. As I have been learning there are three ordinations in the Orthodox Church. Those are Deacons, Priests (or Presbyters) and Bishops. The authority of their ordinations is traced directly back to the Apostles themselves.

The initial ordinations were done by the laying on of hands by the Apostles themselves, but subsequent ordinations by their successors were done with the anointing of myron. Myron is a very special anointing oil mixed with several ingredients, which is only made by a certain group of bishops once a year. This passing down of authority by anointing is known an Apostolic Succession. This Succession is not only based on the anointing, but the faithful holding to the Tradition and teachings of the Church.

Father Patrick and I talked about the economy of the Old Testament priesthood through the descendants of Levi, especially the sons of Aaron, the relationship was quite different than that of the New Testament priesthood. In the priesthood of the OT, the priest took the prayers of the people to God, then took the word of God to the people. He was an intermediary for God and the children of Israel. In the New Testament we are all a part of the royal priesthood, as it is not based on the sons of Levi, but is an extension of Christ whose priesthood is after the order of Melchizadek, and is untransferable. The anointing of priesthood within the Orthodox Church is sacramental. Even though we are all a “kingdom of priests”, the position of a presbyter is unique and sacred. The priest becomes the hands, feet and mouth of Christ to His people the Church.

The idea of priests had always bothered me as a Protestant. But that was based on an understanding of priesthood that was like the Levitical and Aaronic priesthood. Since now we have the ability to pray to God directly and can boldly approach the Throne of Grace (Hebrews 4:16) and have “one Mediator between God and man; the man Christ Jesus.” (1Timothy 2:5), I assumed that there was no longer a priesthood other than that of all believers and followers of Christ. I became especially uncomfortable when I first came to a liturgy and saw the people kissing the priest’s hand. Boy am I glad I was wrong.

I have come to realize that when we kiss the priest’s hand, we are, in a mystery kissing the very hand of Christ. Just as giving a glass of water to the poor is like giving it to Our Lord, so is the kiss of respect. When we confess our sins, it is in the presence of the priest, but we pray in front of an icon of Christ, to Christ. The priest is there as a witness. Yet he speaks the words of absolution as the very mouth of Christ to us. When we receive a blessing, it is a blessing from Christ Himself. He ministers the Holy Mysteries to God’s people. He teaches the Word. He represents the very ministry of Christ among God’s people.

When I read the qualifications of a presbyter/elder in the letters to Timothy and to Titus, I now understand why they are so stringent. It is not that they need to be good administrators and charismatic teachers, able to get people to follow their “vision”. These are men leading people to holiness. He is acting as the very hands of Christ. I have come to realize that the special anointing to the sacramental priesthood allows for the decency and order spoken of by Paul in his letter to the Corinthians, as apposed to the kind of confusion so prevalent in assuming God speaks directly to us in a way that contradicts the dogmas of the Church. I am not saying God does not speak to each of us individually. But I have come to understand that He will not give us a revelation contrary to that which He has spoken to His Church. For this reason a priest, under the authority of the bishop, ministers to the parish flock. This keeps things in order, instead of in chaos and confusion.

To get to my original point (which I really got off track from), this anointing is veiled from our outward eyes. Indeed, as I read in Bishop Hilarion’s book, this anointing is veiled even from the eyes of the priest. This veil is to keep us from idolatry, and to keep priests humble. I think, like Gandalf, priests have an inner glory that we could not handle if we saw it as it really is. Therefore, like the old wizard, we only see the outward person, and don’t really think much of it (if I’m being honest). Quoting a saint, Bishop Hilarion points out that we would be overwhelmed by the power and glory present within the anointing that is the priesthood.

With that in mind, how much more honor should we give to those who are “in authority over us”? After considering the veiled glory that is possessed by a priest as the representative of Christ, I understand what respect I should have for the office. What a wonder this sacramental understanding is. Lord, gives us eyes to see the glory of You in Your people!

At the end of the chapter Riddles In The Dark from The Hobbit, we have a scene that sets up the fate of Middle Earth many, many years later. Bilbo has been secretly led by Gollum to the back door of the kingdom of the goblins. This happened because as he fled from Gollum in terror, when he realized Gollum intended to murder, his “magic” ring slipped on his finger, making him invisible. Gollum passed him by unknowingly, and continued down the tunnel, until he came to a low opening. Gollum was stooping right in the way of the opening, trapping Bilbo. At this point Bilbo concludes the since Gollum had intended to kill him, he should kill him instead, so he could escape. But then comes the internal conflict:

“Bilbo… was desperate. He must get away, out of this horrible darkness, while he had any strength left. He must fight. He must stab the foul thing, put its eyes out, kill it. It meant to kill him. No, not a fair fight. He was invisible now. Gollum had no sword. Gollum had not actually threatened to kill him, or tried to yet. And he was miserable, alone, lost. A sudden understanding, a pity mixed with horror, welled up in Bilbo’s heart: a glimpse of endless unmarked days without light or hope of betterment, hard stone, cold fish, sneaking and whispering. All these thoughts passed in a flash of a second. He trembled. And then quite suddenly in another flash, as if lifted by a new strength and resolve, he leaped. No great leap for a man, but a leap in the dark.”

In the Lord Of The Rings trilogy we find out that not only did Bilbo have a moment of empathy for Gollum, but that he began to suffer from the effects of carrying the One Ring, just as Gollum had. This same suffering was experienced by Isildur, and later was endured by Frodo, and even Sam Gamgee to a smaller extent. One spirit was at work, so to speak, in each case. Though the spirit of the Ring and it’s power was evil, nevertheless, it was a unifying factor between the lives of those I just mentioned. By having a participation with the Ring, they participated in one another’s lives as well.

I don’t know that this analogy is really going to work, but I would like to make a connection with a verse I read today out of the lectionary reading for the Orthodox Church. Speaking to the Colossians by his letter, St Paul says, “I now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ, for the sake of His body, which is the church.” (Colossians 1:24)

If any of you have the Orthodox Study Bible, you may have seen Morning and Evening Prayers in the very back of it. If you use it for your prayers (or even if you don’t, maybe you’ve noticed the set-up) you’ll notice that the pattern of the Morning Prayers has readings from the Psalms, then Epistle and Gospel from the Lectionary for that day, in between the Thanksgiving Prayers and the General Intercession. The verse above was from the Epistle reading for Thursday of this week, being the  Twenty-First Week After Pentecost.

So there I am before the icons in my prayer corner, reading these verses. I think I got to verse 27 before I snapped back to verse 24. “… what is LACKING in the afflictions of Christ…” WHAT?!?!?! You see, as with many Protestants, I was taught tat Christ suffered ALL, and that His suffering was complete, and fulfilled the justice required by God the Father for our sins. There is something of a connection with Christ when we suffer, like when people go through a common tragedy. Our sufferings bring us into something of a “I know what you’re going through” Club with our Savior. It’s a lot deeper than that (the Protestant explanation that is), but that is kind of the gist of it, as I understood it. Since His merits are all-sufficient, our suffering s really bring nothing to the table of our salvation, other than causing us to trust in God more, and hopefully draw us nearer to Him. But the verse above explains something on a whole other level.

After reading the verse to myself a few times, it suddenly hot me what Paul was saying. We are participants in Christ’s sufferings, here and now. When Paul says, “I have been crucified with Christ.” (Galatians 2:20) and tells us, “Now you are the Body of Christ.” (1 Corinthians 12:27) it is also in connection with the words of the Apostle John in the vision of the end of the world, who, speaking of Christ, calls Him a “Lamb, slain before the foundation of the world” (Revelation 13:8), we see the eternal interconnection between our suffering now, and His suffering.

Since His suffering was on an eternal scale (from the foundation of the world) the point in history where He suffered on the cross was just one aspect of it. Since we are His Body (the Church), when we suffer, He suffers so to speak. So in a sense, our suffering for His sake does complete His suffering. What an amazing thing that the Eternal, Limitless God would link Himself to mankind in such a way that we complete something of Himself. Not only that, but it means that we who are His Church complete one another. No wonder the author of Hebrew tells us, “Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.” (13:3)

As I was doing my reading, all these things sort of hit my mind like a bolt of lightning, but it has taken me a few days to hash it all out. I love that this Orthodox Faith that we live is a true participation in the life of Christ. What’s more it is His participation in Us, and our participation with each other. O that this truth would sink deep into my soul and transform my into the image of Christ to those around me.

As a fireman/paramedic I have come to separate myself from the tragedies of others, because it part of the job. I have a job to do, and I cannot focus at the task at hand if I am caught up in the emotions of another’s suffering. I have been at this job a lot longer than I have been becoming Orthodox, so I have a bit of unlearning to do in this regards. While I would fall into depression if I allowed every emergency to emotionally effect me, one thing that I try to do: I finish take care of the emergency at hand, and then when it is over I make the sign of the Cross and simply pray, “Lord have mercy.” It is not an emotional attachment, but it is a lifting up of the person and their situation before the Lord. Bringing their cares before the Savior who suffers with us and us with Him.

I have been bringing up the topic of reunion between East and West a few times within the last few weeks (forgive my repetition). So I picked the Last Alliance as a picture for this. Let me explain. Below are six links to a series done by Fr George Morelli of the Antiochian Orthodox Archdiocese titled “Towards Healing Apostolic Church Schism: Some Psychotheological Reflections” I think this is one of the most thoughtful treatments of the subject of reunion, not only between East and West, but ALL the Apostolic Churches. This includes the Oriental Orthodox, Uniates, and even those Anglican communions with a link to Apostolic Succession. One of the podcasts draws from a psychosocial experiment and an exhortation by Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev of the need for those of us who are of the Apostolic Churches to unite against militant secularism with the Gospel of Christ.

Therefore I chose the theme of the Last Alliance for this reflection. Those fans of Lord of the Rings will note that the Last Alliance ended up being an utter failure, as they had seemingly defeated their common foe Sauron and his forces, but drifted apart from one another, only to see their enemy resurge. Of course by the time Sauron resurges, Elves are leaving Middle Earth, Ents have dwindled, Dwarves have little dealings with others, and men quarrel amongst themselves. As with all my analogies, I am focused on a very specific aspect, as these are very imperfect analogies. I am obviously pointing to the fact that all the peoples of Middle Earth united against a common foe at the end of the Second Age.

As we approach the end of a full millennium of schism, my prayer is that we humble ourselves, repent of this sin and reach out in love, one to another. As I well know, there are a lot of things for both sides to work and pray through. No reunion will come easy or quickly, but as this series points out, it is not impossible to do. Interestingly, Fr George draws on the patristic insight of Met Hilarion in his book The Mystery of Faith in which he points out that were far more interested in having open arms toward those that departed from the Church than we are in these days. I pray that we head the voice of our Savior who prayed that we would be one as He and the Father are one (John 17:11-26).

As Fr George points out, this really is a sin, and should be repented of so we can be healed. If the Church be healed, what could that do for the Gospel? I have said this before, but let me say it again: We who are Christians aught rather to follow the example of St Proclus who stated before his torturers, “I am of the race of Christ.”, than to say we are of a certain nationality, ethnicity, jurisdiction, etc.

Here are the links to the 6-Part Series:

Towards Healing Apostolic Church Schism Some Psychotheological Reflections – Healing – Ancient Faith Radio

I have to admit that this picture I found really cracks me up. The “New” statement in the upper right corner is one of those great lines from the book, that I think never made it into the movie. Gimli the dwarf sees the waybread, and scoffs under his breath, “Cram.” To his surprise and delight it is not and he proceeds to eat an entire cake. The elves inform him that he has eaten an entire day’s worth of lembas, which the elves say has every nutrient necessary to give a person strength on a long journey. And while this picture is a very clever play on the elvish waybread, I think it also depicts a serious tendency I was reflecting upon. Actually two tendencies, I suppose.

The first tendency is one I was caught up in for years, without ever knowing it. I am speaking of the tendency to emphasize the Scriptures as the sole source of spiritual life within the Church, to the exclusion of all else. This was first introduced during the Reformation with the words Sola Scriptura. There are a lot of great historians and theologians that have discussed the issue of Sola Scriptura, so I won’t get into that issue. I would like to share my own reflections in light of what I am learning as I become more immersed in the life of the Church.

When I was a Protestant, I would have pointed to the following Scripture verses as proof that the Bible is all we need as Christians: Job 23:12 “I have esteemed the words of his mouth more than my necessary food.” ; Psalm 119:105 “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” ; Romans 10:17 “So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.”; and of course Hebrews 4:12 “For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of souland spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” These are but the smallest pinch of verses that are often used to point to Scripture as the sole means by which God communicates to man through the Holy Spirit. All else is man-made religion. Unless, of course, you have a “Spirit-led” Church.

The thing that I never understood is that the Church is so much more than just the Bible. Again, I won’t get into the historical inaccuracy of those who try to treat the Bible as if it was Dictation from God Himself, and is some kind of perfect instruction guide as long as you “have the Holy Spirit”. I will say that after reading, podcasting and in general learning about the history of the Bible, Church, Tradition, etc, I am blown away at how ignorant I was. I have been missing the big picture of the life of the Church. Sam and Frodo knew the benefit of the lembas, but began to long for a bit of a change after a while. The Word of God is indeed alive and powerful, but it is not all the Church has to offer. I used to think every problem in life could be answered within the pages of the Bible. While one cannot exhaust the spiritual blessings found within Scripture, there is more in the life of the Orthodox Church.

I am going to steal a friends analogy. Don’t worry, I will give him full credit. Jonathan (Dr Jonathan) and I were talking about this illustration of Protestantism versus an Apostolic Church. He likened the Church to a Fitness Club (remember, this is only an imperfect analogy). In one room you have barbells, and dumbbells. This is the room Sola Scriptura advocates stay in. All you need to get in shape is in that one room. Even though they see that there are rooms with machines for lifting, machines for cardio, exercise classes, a track, a pool, etc, they see no benefit in it. In fact, they see it as bad for you. It is all there for your benefit, but only the free weights are good for you. Can someone get in shape with just those? Sure, but not in the rounded way someone who takes full advantage of the gym’s facilities can. Will a free-weights only person get in better shape than a slacker who barely takes any advantage of the full use of the gym? Absolutely. I had a co-worker (a fireman) who sat on an elliptical bike with a news paper, only pedaling every minutes or so, while my other crew members and I used the whole gym. It’s easy to guess who was useless on emergencies. (Thanks again for the illustration JD)

Even as a catechumen I am amazed by the vast height, depth, width and length of the Orthodox Church. The icons, the prayers, the saints, the Theotokos, the sacraments, the theology, the history (good and bad), and yes, the Scripture (last, but definitely not least). Far from taking away anything from the Scriptures, this journey has opened my eyes to the great reverence for and value of the Scriptures. Never in my former traditions did I ever stand whenever the Gospel is read aloud. Such a reverence for the Holy Scriptures. Now the Scriptures make sense. They are meant to be understood in the context of the Church, not individual “Spirit leading”. Does that mean God does not speak to me? Far from it. I seem to hear Him far more clearly and frequently. It’s all too much to describe in a blog post, or even several. Let me just say that it is wonderful, this life I am so close to entering full into, once my catechism is deemed complete.

There is an excellent blog post my Fr Stephen Freeman titled Treasure In A Box, in which he speaks of the problems created by the Sola Scriptura mentality, as it relates to our being connected to God, the Source of Life. I found it a good reminder that we don’t serve and worship a text, a book or a concept. It seems today that some circles have deified the Bible, and relegated faith to a mental ascent to the teachings contained within that book (or collection of books). No, rather, Christ is in our midst. And this life that we “now live my the Son of God” has it’s fullest expression in His One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church. What a freedom and a gift.

“So come to the feast laid out for us in our life in Christ. And don’t forget to try some of that bread over there. It’s called lembas. It’s delicious! Way better than cram… But try some of everything. You’ll be glad you did.”

I received an email today from an Eastern Catholic friend of mine (in fact the same one I spoke about in my post called The Shire) in which he added the following links:

Image via Wikipedia

I attended an early morning Liturgy at my parish this morning. One of the things I am grateful for, is the midweek liturgy, Orthros and Vespers services. Since I work all weekend, with no chance of changing my schedule in the near future, I am stoked that my parish gives me the opportunity to attend the Divine Liturgy.

I am still a catechumen, and am still not yet able to receive the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ. Even though this is the case, I love to be in the service, participating as I far as I am able to, and learning from the prayers of the Church.

In the book I am reading as a text for my catechism (The Mystery Of Faith by Bishop Hilarion Alfeyev), Fr Patrick was discussing the section on the Eucharist with me. In the book, Bishop Hilarion makes the point that the Eucharist isn’t just “one of the sacraments”, it is the sacrament of sacraments. It is the means by which Christ infuses us with His life, thereby making theosis possible. It is a mystery that we are never worthy to participate in, but are always invited to by the grace and mercy of our Savior.

One of the things that Fr Patrick mentioned to me, was that he has written a practical guide to the Liturgy. In discussing the Eucharist, he wanted to speak on the Liturgy as well. He spoke to me about preparing to receive the Body and Blood of Christ, as an Orthodox Christian. I knew about the fasting, pre-communion prayers after Vespers, and the Prayers during the Liturgy. What I did not know was that there are prayers said the night before, and the morning of Liturgy, that are to be said in private, but can be done corporately. He pointed them out in the prayer book, and so I made a note to myself to say them Saturday evening, and Sunday morning. I have been following the fasting rule, so as to find a means of participating in the life of my parish and the Church at large, even though I have not been fully received. Praying the pre-communion prayers would be a chance to take it yet deeper into my heart and life.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I knew that it would be beneficial to my spiritual formation. Before I ever got to the first prayer, I had multiple distractions from my family. I figured it was a test. I lit my candles in my prayer-corner, venerated the icons, and began the prayers. What I found was a deep sense of penitence that I have not felt since Lent. I knew that I would not be partaking of the Body and Blood at the end of the prayers, but I asked God to work the necessary change in me to prepare me to be received. The rest of my evening, even though I was celebrating my birthday by going out to dinner with my wife and a couple friends, I found my mind reflecting on those prayers the whole night. Next morning, I had more family distractions, but had just enough time to do the prayers before I had to leave with my two older girls for Liturgy. By the time I got to the last half of the prayer of St Symeon, I was choking up. It was amazing to be grasped by the reality of being entirely unworthy of the Holy Mysteries, yet the grace of God condescends to my weakness.

During the Liturgy, at the time when we say the pre-communion prayers of the Liturgy, I tried to soak in the meaning the words, “Thou hast come into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief…” Even though it is a bit hard to concentrate when my two girls begin to get antsy, I tried to continue to focus on the prayers; “… but like the thief on the cross will I confess Thee, ‘Lord, remember me in your kingdom’.” And after these prayers and hymns are offered, then comes the culminating moment of the entire Liturgy, “In the fear of God, with faith and love, draw near.” then we sing the hymn, asking God to receive us, even as we are receiving are receiving Him. I say we, even though I am not among those who go forward.

O for the day that I will hear those wonderful words, “The servant of the Lord, Jeremiah. Receive the Body and Blood of Christ.”

In Kansas City, Kansas is a great ministry lead by a convert to the Orthodox Faith. This ministry meets the needs of those living in the inner city of Kansas City. They are joined with FOCUS North America, and each parish in various jurisdictions rotate through, serving the poor and needy. This is truly a remarkable ministry, and one that brings hope to the idea of Orthodox unity in North America. Here is a link to an interview done with the head of that ministry by Kevin Allen of the Illumined Heart podcast on Ancient Faith Radio:

http://ancientfaith.com/podcasts/illuminedheart/orth

Enjoy!

I had an interesting conversation the other day, about a phrase that is a huge part of Orthodox Christian prayer, worship, hymnology and spirituality. The phrase in only three words long; “Lord have mercy.” In the course of morning and evening prayers, just from the Pocket Prayerbook for Orthodox Christians, each time of prayer has the phrase 18 times. An Orthodox service can have the phrase even more than that. The festal vigil service for the Elevation of the Cross has the phrase almost 500 times.

Orthodox prayer in general is very repetitive. Especially the words “Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.” This was a problem for the person I was speaking to. The verse from Matthew 6 was brought up; “And when you pray, do not use vain repetitions as the heathen do. For they think they will be heard for there many words.” This, in their estimation, was proof that the Orthodox prayers are the kind of thing Jesus spoke against.

By definition, the word Vain means: producing no result; useless. having no meaning or likelihood of fulfillment. I am convinced that the Orthodox Prayers are not what Jesus was talking about. If it was just repetition and many words, then any prayer would fit this bill. I have often heard prayers with the words, “Father we just…” peppered throughout. The Psalms themselves are full of repetition and many words. Yet these were not only the prayer book of Israel, but continue to be the prayer and hymn book of the Church. So if repetition in and of itself is not a negative, what is its purpose?

I would like to share the response that I gave in the conversation I had. I mentioned that there are several positive aspects to repetition. People learn from repetition. Scripture often repeats something that is of great importance. Repetition can also be used in a rhythmic fashion to help promote memorization. Jesus used this kind of tool: “You have heard it said… But I say to you…” How important, and how worth memorizing are the words, “Lord have mercy”?

I also pointed out something that I had to do within myself, as it relates to praying the prayers of the Orthodox Church. First, I had to choose to submit myself to the authority of the Church and put aside my own opinion about how many times I say a phrase within the prayers of the Church. Even choosing to say that I would put aside purely spontaneous prayer and use the written prayers of the Church, is a surrender. Of course, spontaneous prayers from the heart are acceptable to add to the prayers of the Church. I said that I believe God honors the humility involved in that. Not only that, but because the prayers are written and done, generally, at the same times of the day, there is a unison with the rest of the Body of Christ and myself. Unity and humility I believe to be led of the Holy Spirit. Lastly, as I repeat those simple words, “Lord have mercy” I find that they sink into my inner man.

There is an inner stillness spoken, of by the holy men and women of the Church, that comes from the inner-man crying out to God without words. This is the “praying without ceasing” that St Paul speaks of. This ceaseless inner prayer is prompted by a simple repetition of the words, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner.” Often times it is shortened to “Lord have mercy” “Jesus have mercy” or even just, “Jesus”. What a great reminder of my daily need for God’s mercy. How better to remind myself, than to repetitively ask for it.

This is something that God has been working into my heart regarding prayer. My prayer is that it continues to work its way into every area of my life.

“Lord have mercy”

I just started reading The Hobbit to my two older girls at bedtime, after prayers. It brings back a lot of memories for me. From my early teen years I have read The Hobbit and The  Lord of the Rings a number of times. While I have more important things to do with my time than sit an read fiction, I am glad for the chance to use the time to share one of my favorite stories with my girls. The map in the picture above is one that was written by one of the main character’s father and grandfather, and is found in the front of the book. I remember the scene at Rivendell, when Elrond is looking over the map and realizes there were “moon letters” on it. These were magical letters that could only be seen and read by moonlight on midsummer night. Lucky for Bilbo and company, they just happened to be at Elrond’s house on the exact right night to read them (very convenient). The words were a riddle of sorts about how to find the secret entrance to the Lonely Mountain, Thorin’s abandoned kingdom, now inhabited by Smaug the Dragon.

In my catechism with my priest Fr Patrick, I have been reading a book by then Bishop (now Metropolitan) Hilarion Alfeyev, called The Mystery Of Faith. We are going over the chapter on the sacraments, the holy mysteries of the Church. I have also been reading the excellent reflection of Fr Stephen Freeman in his blog, Glory To God For All Things, in which his last entry spoke of knowing God is contingent upon a sense of wonder, and not pure rationalism or reasoned deduction. Like the moon letters on Thror’s map, the work of God in our lives and especially in the Holy Mysteries of the Church, are only “visible” in the proper light, so to speak. The conditions are not external, as was the case with the magical letters. The condition is internal. Having said that, a sacrament is, objectively, what it is. Whether or not we believe it or not, a sacrament is the spiritual being acted upon with and through the physical, by the Spirit of God. In this sense there is an externality to the reality of a sacrament.

The internality of it is the disposition of the person. This disposition is one of faith. Something else I have learned about, is something called a mandorla. For those who have never heard of it, it’s a depiction of a spiritual event on an icon. Something that would have only been “seen” with the eyes of faith, or by a very few people God allowed to see it. St Paul’s encounter on the road to Damascus is an example of this.

Some may read this, who, like myself, have a background that is unfamiliar with sacraments, let me reiterate what I said above. The Sacraments, or holy mysteries are the spiritual imparted on a person or persons, via the physical. It is also a participation in the heavenly reality. It is a participation with the living Christ, in the Holy Spirit, by means of a physical rite and/or sanctified item (such as oil, water, wine, bread, etc) Some of my Protestant friends may ask the same question I once asked. “Do you really believe that sacraments are real? How does something physical impart something spiritual? That’s just superstition.” It would be if the focus was merely on an object that is believed to have some kind of power of itself, or a ritual that is believed to be a “magic formula”.

I once thought a sacramental understanding was superstition. Then I recalled all the places in the Bible where an object carried a spiritual grace, both positive and negative. The ark of the covenant killed a man who touched it, and also caused injury to the Philstines. Those who received the Eucharist unworthily became sick and even died. St Elisha’s bones brought a man back to life. St Peter’s shadow healed the sick, as well as St Paul’s handkerchief. The Hem of Christ’s garment healed many. The belief in the Orthodox Church is that God’s grace is not simply used once, then gone. Instead it uses something or someone, and abides. This is a mystery. We know that it is, but we don’t know how. It’s working is hidden, which is what the greek word mysterion means. This is the biblical definition of a mystery. We don’t try to qualify it with “rational” explanation, because it is beyond that. It is spiritual. As one priest told me, “It is what it is.” If it were but the foolishness of God, it would be far above the wisdom of man to try and figure out.

As I have said before, all these things are centered around the Incarnation, Death and Resurrection of our Lord God and Savior Jesus Christ. Because He took on flesh, which bears the same elements as all creation, our relation with God and the material is forever altered. His death not only renewed our relationship to God, but also the whole Cosmos (as is sung in the hymns of the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross). Because of what He has done, we can relate to Him, in this material world. Material is not devoid of spirit at best, and evil at worst. It is renewed by its Creator, just as we have been.

I don’t pretend to understand this. I am still learning, and have a long way to go. When I am received into the Church, and will finally experience the Holy Mysteries first hand, then I will be able to comprehend with just a little more fullness. And even then, it is like coming to faith in Christ. It is just the first step of a long journey. To be illumined and participate in the Holy Mysteries bears with it the responsibility of obedience. The Orthodox call it synergy. In fact, when Paul speaks of us being “co-laborers with Christ” the greek word is synergia. But just so there is no confusion, it is not a 50/50 deal; half me, half God. It is all God. I simply respond to His working in my by the Holy Spirit. I can do nothing without Him, but He won’t do anything without me (so to speak). Paul speaks of this when he says, “It is not I, but the grace of God works in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by the Son of God.”

What a great wonder, that with the eyes of faith I can see, “Oh look! Moon letters.” And then one day, if I heed the words on the map, I will be in the right place to hear the bird crack snail shells, see the sunbeam shine of the keyhole, and be able to unlock the door, finding that hidden entrance to the Lonely Mountain. (You’d have to at least have seen the cartoon movie to get that last part)