New Mexico

God be praised for a wonderous and relaxing vacation. The trailer my aunt and uncle own--we call it simply "The Place"--is in Angel Fire, NM, and was a welcome relief from the 100+ degree temperatures that were/are baking the majority of the rest of the country. Audra, Hope, my mother (we call her "Gammie") and myself spent the week before last up there and got a great deal of relaxation done.
We quickly realized that we'd left Hope's ducky bathtub in Ft. Worth, so the sink had to serve as bathtub while we were there.
Hope took it all in stride, cool as she always is...
This is me out front attempting to start a fire for BBQ burgers and franks. Said fire was, we found out later that night, illegal due to dry conditions that prompted an area-wide ban. Neverthe- less, the fire did its thing. Meat good.
Hope is learning Baby Signs (see the link for an explana- tion), and here you can see her with her version of the sign for "cat" -- brushing her cheek (supposed to be whiskers) and giving a higher-than-normal-pitched cry for a "meow." She got that cemented in through lots of practice using the neighborhood cat as an example. She's gained the ability to express, either verbally or through a sign, around 20 words in the past month, much to the relief of her parents, who now no longer have to be frustrated by the "she's STILL crying/what the #%!^ does she WANT?!" phase that plagues parents. Good stuff.
Walking in the path in front of the house, picking up pebbles ... good times. She did, unfortunate- ly, trip and fall on a larger rock (smacked her little forehead, but it's nothing a band-aid and kiss couldn't cure).
Audra and I were able to convince Gammie to watch Hope (because getting grand- parents to watch their grandkids is so hard, don't you know) while we took a scenic chair lift ride up a mountain in Red River. Here's me at the top...
And a picture from our chair on the way down, overlooking Red River. Very nice having this to look at each morning...
Got down from the chair lift, and this is what we saw; apparently Hope had had enough ... and snagged a bear in the process and promptly tuckered it out, as well...
Taos, another city in the "Enchanted Circle" area of NM, is one of the older cities in NM, colonized early on by land grants from Spain, as the monument attests to. Side note: IF ANYONE WHO SMOKES CIGARS IS GOING TO GO TO THE ENCHANTED CIRCLE AREA, PURCHASE CIGARS BEFORE LEAVING HOME! Cigar places are pretty much nonexistent, much to my surprise; I had hoped to purchase a nice cigar, sit out on the front patio of the trailer, and pass a relaxing hour reading, smoking, and looking at the mountains while listening to the wind blow through the trees. Finally found a place here in Taos where I bought a very nice Bolivar Maduro, much to the ladies' relief (they no longer had to endure my hunt for cigars, which entailed following this lead or that from every shop owner in the Circle re: where I could buy one). Enjoyed aforemetioned, early-evening smoke with book and mountain view. Truly thankful for the peaceful hour.
Went on a hike through an Angel Fire park. Gorgeous smells--we were suprised at how good clover could smell!--and humbling sites. Trails were well-marked for us; we imagined what it would have been like to pioneer places like this, sans trails.
On our last day in Angel Fire, we nailed down a rumor of a hot-air balloon event that happens every so often in the Circle. Unfortunately for us (or fortunately, if you want to look at it that way, as this could NEVER happen anywhere else in the country right now due to heat), the early morning fog prohibited the event from actually happening; this balloon was the only one that even got all the way inflated. Still, it was impressive, and it's a sight to see a couple of dozen of 'em floating over the little village of Angel Fire.
We broke up the drive both to Angel Fire and back to Ft. Worth by stopping in Canyon TX and staying with my Granny. I just wish she and Hope could pretend to like each other, even a little bit...

"That's Just What We Do"

Back from NM. Pictures will be posted as soon as they come back from the photo dept. of Wally World. Thanks so much to all who prayed.

Have been trying for the past week or so to get in touch with my godfather, , as he's Lebanese. Many worried prayers (which aren't really prayers at all, I guess, as we are not to pray in such a state) were uttered and a few phone messages left in an attempt to nail down that, no, he was not in the crossfire of the current conflict between Lebanon and Israel. Tonight, God be praised, I got a call back from him.

He'd been in Lebanon just two weeks prior to the inital hostage taking and Israeli response. He was reflective, now, on how beautiful everything seemed while he was there, which only added to the surrealism he is experiencing now. He informed me that another beloved family from the parish was actually in South Lebanon until the third day of bombings, when they were able to get out. God be praised, the checkpoint that prior to their crossing had been backed up with hours of traffic was a cinch for them to get through, and they're now staying with family here in the States.

He laid the blame for all this squarely on the Lebanese government, which, as much as I tend to sympathize with Palestinian/Arabic sentiments of being dispossessed of their homelands by Israel, strikes me as the right take on this. Hezbollah is a terrorist organization that, as my godfather said, plays games by building schools, orphanages, hospitals, etc -- which endears them to the Lebanese people -- but they also have rocket launchers that they use (as lackeys under orders from Syria) against Israel. They're the only militia in Lebanon that the government hasn't disarmed (in defiance of UN orders, surprise, surprise), the rationale apparently being, "better the devil you know than the devil you don't." Regardless, why the Lebanese as a whole don't finish the job -- which would entail disarming Hezbollah and cutting them off from government recognition -- is beyond me.

What really was fascinating (as well as assuring) for me to hear from him, though, was his take on how the Israeli attacks are being carried out -- specifically the destinction being made between the Muslim and the Christians. Lebanon is unique among Arab nations (with the possible-but-not-quite-as-exceptional exceptions of Jordan and Egypt) of being nations where the Muslim and Christian Arabs get along and have deep, generations-long friendships with each other, yet Israel understands that all of these Hezbollah-driven attacks are from one source and one source only: Islam. You do not see Orthodox Christian (or Melkite Catholic) suicide bombers; no little altar boys are missing from Sunday Divine Liturgy because they stepped on an Israeli bus and detonated the explosives strapped to their little chests.

(LATER EDIT: This post on the blog of a UK Antiochian priest very much disputes the above paragraph, and for good reason; it's come to light recently that, indeed, Christian sites are being bombed as well as Muslim ones)

Why is this? My godfather, I think, summed it up best when he told me what Metropolitan + PHILLIP of the Antiochian Archdiocese said in the recent clergy symposium regarding this. All we can do, Sayidna said, is be prayerful. "That's just what we do," my godfather said in response to the Metropolitan's advice. What a stark contrast to followers of the "Prophet" who work under orders of jihad and deception to further their cause; we are called to pray, repaying not evil with evil, but attempting to overcome evil with good, and trusting in our God to do this.

(Also, God be praised that there is still a bishop in the southern Lebanese Christian cities that are under the worst of it; my brothers and sisters in Christ will at least have a loving pastor to guide and nourish them with Christ as the Word of God in the Scriptures and the Lamb of God in the Eucharist.)

May God preserve His estate in Lebanon, and may Jerusalem, Beruit, and all other cities know peace soon.

Fear and Travelling

We'll take these in reverse order: We'll be out on vacation in NM for a week, so blogging will be pretty much out of the question (though I will check in from libraries from time to time to read the throngs of comments y'all lavish on me **rolls eyes at self**). Prayers for safe travel, save vacationing, and a safe return for all involved would be appreciated.

As to the first subject in the title, the relatively recent and beloved mantle of fatherhood which has been placed on my unworthy shoulders has awakened a very real passion which I have, in all honesty, struggled with immensely. The first post I ever placed on this blog, in fact (back in the "Stumble On Water" days that some of you may remember), dealt in part with this very thing. I've been told by Audra that I "scare her" with the paranoia I can sometimes display: hanging around Hope like a bodyguard, keeping my back between her and any opening for kidnappers, locking the door after I put her in her carseat and have to walk around to the driver's side--all this brought on by horror stories of middle-of-the-night kidnappings or sleep apnia (cessation of breathing in the middle of the night), or like the one where an American couple was walking down a Mexico City street and, out of nowhere, a man runs up from behind them in a dead sprint, rips their child from their arms, and disappears into the throng, their child never to be seen or heard from again...these and other scenarios of the sudden and/or violent taking of my daughter and/or wife from me are rather commonplace, happening several times a week if I'm honest...

This is part of my current internal landscape. There is, of course, the understanding that one of the things we pray for (and firmly believe in) as Orthodox Christians is an actual guardian angel, given to us at baptism/chrismation, who serves as our agent of protection for the glory of God. God is not unmindful of his creatures. As I put it in the abovementioned linked post from a year and a half ago, "I know the real battle...is to allow my Lord to "direct my life in the paths of peace," as one prayer puts it, realizing that all is a gift, my loved ones included. If...something were to happen, all things would return to Him who sent them and owns them. [My feelings] must be tempered with the knowledge that I brought nothing into this world, and I truly can take nothing out." And even the destruction of our bodies, should it come to that, will be overcome by the glory of the Resurrection, if indeed we are also dead to sin in our lives.

Tonight I will pray the last kathisma of the psalter: Psalms 143-150 (144-150 in Protestant Bibles). Lots of "Praise ye the LORDs" in that section. Would that I could be the kind of man to say, if it came down to it, "The LORD giveth, and the LORD taketh away; blessed be the Name of the LORD," or, as our Savior exemplified for us in the moment of His most agonizing torment, to scream out first, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" and yet follow immediately nonetheless with, "Father, into Thy hands I commit My Spirit!" Trust is not seen in the absence of, but rather in the midst of pain.

So the idea, I know (funny how the head and mouth can babble on about what the heart still needs convincing of), is that I must trust God to "be their guide and guardian in all their endeavors" and "defend them against the assaults of the enemy, and grant them wisdom and strength to resist all temptation and corruption of this life, and direct them in the way of salvation," yet I must also understand that, if God should allow for these precious women to be taken from me, even in an atrociously violent and unjust manner, they were not mine to begin with, so I have no right to demand them back from God (no matter what my 21st-Century, western mind tells me), and God is no less good and no less loving for having allowed that than He would have been had He shielded us from it.

It is one thing to theorize about all this, I know, and another entirely to say it through teeth clenched with rage at a God who would allow it to happen (for an actual example of this contrast, read C.S. Lewis' The Problem with Pain, which was written before his wife's long struggle with a terminal illness, and follow it with A Grief Observed, which came after she succumbed). To stand in the presence of God within my own heart, "communing with Him in the paths of peace," in spite of the dangerous waves (real or imagined) that threaten the hull of my soul and those of the ones I love, so that if or when a wave hits, the pressing would not crush--this is the goal of a Christian in the war against fear. Would that I could continually be in such a place.

Perhaps I'll go and try to do just that now. Prayers are appreciated. Lord willing, I'll have some vacation photos for y'all in a week...

The Fourth

Quite a day! We started off the day with each of us getting decked out in our red - white - and - blue stuff--Hope is here with her obviously beloved hat (which would have come off in half a second had it not been tied on under her chin with straps), then heading off with Gammie (my mother) for a train ride.
Here we are aboard the train; Hope did really well with all the whistles and brakes hissing and such...of course, there was plenty to look at, so of course she was more or less happy...
A great picture of my lovely daughter watching the woods whiz by as we head down the tracks. And no, that's not me about to throw her out the window, that's just paranoid Papi knowing good and well that he has a daughter that at any moment could lunge unpredictably out to grab anything she sees, and thus is determined to keep her inside the car, thankyouverymuch...

Audra loves this pic, as do I...Hope had too much to look at, if that's possible; our little explorer just got tuckered out about two-thirds of the way into the return trip and nodded off on Mommy's chest. Awwww....


Papi, Gammie, Mommy and a completely zonked-out Hope in front of the train after arriving back at the station.


Later that night, Hope gets an up-close (emphasis on the "up") encounter with Uncle Sam. Didn't quite know what to make of it, but didn't cry...










From L to R: My uncle Jeff, my uncle Kenton, and Yours Truly, finding creative methods of flag-display (and, in my case, enjoying a nice Shiner Bock or three...).





The ladies, from L to R: My aunt Judy, Hope, Audra, my aunt Terri, and Gammie.



A VERY fortunate pic of Anza and Mommy looking up at the fireworks later that night. I say "fortunate" because almost immediately after this was taken, Hope began to cry from the fireworks, and Audra took her inside to watch from the bay windows.



The rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air...










Yep...still there... (A pic of three of the six flags over TX taken outside the train station)

Football, Circle Dances and Unity

Sky's got an excellent post--as does Pitts--about how World Cup soccer is affecting everyone in the world, and/or how we here in the US just don't get it. I'll admit, I'm only recently getting into it, and that because I can relate it so much to hockey in terms of basic similarities of strategy (centering pass to slam in a shot past the goalie, man-on defense, etc). I just wanted to see what all the fuss is about. Me likey.

But I'll tell ya'...when the USA scored a goal (both times, if memory serves), there was no pandemonium in the streets, no audible screams from neighbors' houses down the street...in Brazil, apparently, the cities become ghost towns and, when a goal is scored, the buildings scream. When Brazil would win, the streets would be flooded with celebrating fans who would party until the next morning, or something to that effect. People who otherwise had no other common bond than football (which is enough in other parts of the world) were hugging each other, jumping up and down, crying, etc.

The only time I've seen people who otherwise wouldn't readily converse with each other was at Steve and Luda's wedding reception a month or so ago. Joy over a union, good booze to lubricate conversation and music to dance to...this was all the excuse we needed to find a common point of reference and come together in fellowship.

I guess I'm just lamenting how America in general--most likely due to our diversity--lacks such a common point of reference--a sport, a religion, a cause, an event--that will cause all of us who identify so thoroughly with this one, distinctly American thing to drop whatever else we're doing for however long is necessary in order to participate in this unifying ritual, this common cultural dance. It's lamentable enough that we can't join el baile futbolístico with the rest of the world, but even sadder is the fact that we lack even a dance of our own.

Y'all Take Isseer Test...

Are You a Yankee or a Rebel?

Who Needs Country Radio?

Woo Hoo!

A thee-post weekend. Rare for me; hope y'all's endurance is up...Interesting couple of days...

Audra and I celebrated our anniversary this past week by going out to Red Lobster (we didn't have to twist my mom's arm TOO much to watch Hope). After four years of marriage she's still by far the most incredible woman I know. I am dumbfounded that I got to "walk around the table" with this woman to whom I've been crowned, and now get to work out my salvation with her there to help.
So yeah. Then there's this. This is, no doubt, the happiest face I have ever seen, in my life, period. Hope's birthday party was yesterday, and I guess you could say she enjoyed herself a little bit. You could also, in the same frame of mind, say that Hitler was a somewhat unpleasant fellow. Many friends from the neighborhood and church came. Very blessed to have all of them there to celebrate the coming of our precious daughter into the world.
My dad, pictured here with Hope. He and my stepmother came down after the party (they weren't able to make it early enough from Oklahoma City), and we sat around and talked for about three hours, then went to dinner at Pappadeaux's.

Oh. My. Lanta.

If you EVER get a chance to order the Blackened Catfish Ophasophasomethingorother Platter, DO IT. Even if you call it Ophasophasomethingorother. Good stuff.

Other things:

Listened on NPR to a fellow who, upon attending his twentieth high school reunion, discovered that his mostly negative perception of those years may have been all wrong, causing me to think of individual memories and how they can decieve you. Have you ever had one of those moments where you'd swear on a stack of Bibles (or the equivalent for those who don't do that sort of thing in the first place) that something happened a certain way, only to have EVERYONE around you calmly tell you, in that voice usually reserved for mental patients, that no, it wasn't like that, it wasn't like that at all? There is wisdom in a multitude of council, mostly because it helps the insistent-yet-delusional soul get back on the right track. Except this time the guy was actually proven right in the end. Ah well.

Daddy duty today in liturgy; Mama stayed home with bad allergies. Wonderful as always to step back and be a participant, a member in the Body of Christ, doing what the ekklesia has always done, feeding off the Lifeblood of my Maker.

Went 0 for 3 on showing our house to be sold, and each time stood up in the same, inconsiderate way: folks called to schedule an appointment, only to call it off after five days of planning due to having JUST NOW looked at the square footage (special person #1), or call it off the day of when you've known for TWO DAYS PREVIOUS that you were gonna do it (thanks, special person #2), or just NOT CALL AT ALL and not show up (extra-special person #3). Seriously, do people just engage the For sale by owner folks and make appointments for kicks? 'Cause this is odd....

Regardless, that 'bout sums it up. Hope your weekends were merry and bright, as well....

Archpastoral Visit

(My apologies in advance for the sub-par photos)

A week ago today St. Barbara's was blessed with a visit from His Eminence Archbishop +DMITRI of Dallas and the South (we're spoiled being so close to our bishop). We had a full hierarchical liturgy, which was actually the way all services in the first days of Christianity used to be carried out. The camara was acting up, but imagine if you will the man in the last photo--a frail, bald man with a long, white beard, dressed in nothing more than a plain, black cassock which "is called 'the robe of salvation and the garment of joy,' symbolizing a pure and peaceful conscience, a spotless life, and the spiritual joy in the Lord which flows in him who wears it"--ending up like the first picture here, with each vestment placed on him serving as a reminder of all the different aspects of the office of bishop that the Holy Spirit conferred upon him for the building up of the Church and the right division of the Word of Truth.
In the earliest days of Christianity, when most every congrega- tion had their own bishop due to the small size of the Church at large, the bishop was vested in the midst of the rest of the ekklesia ("Church," or "assembly of people" in Greek), to show that he, a mere, sinful, fallible human being had been appointed by an apostle (who had, in turn, been appointed by Christ Himself) and given the grace of the Holy Spirit through the laying on of hands in order to continue the work the apostles started for the good of all Christ's Church. Here in this second photo we see Abp. +DMITRI, still in the midst of us, his hands being washed in accordance w/Psalm 25:6-7 (Ps. 26 in Protestant Bibles): "I will wash my hands in innocence; So I will go about Your altar, O LORD, That I may proclaim with the voice of thanksgiving, And tell of all Your wondrous works."
He then proceded to lead the congrega- tion in the rest of the Divine Liturgy as our father in Christ. I thought this was not only a good opportunity to get a photo of him serving at the altar with the rest of the clergy under him, but also to get a photo of our temporary iconostasis with the Pentecost green hung around it. Unfortunately, it seems that my digital camera and the new building don't get along too well together just yet. Hopefully this will improve.
This last photo is with me, Vladyka (a word that means "Master" in Slavonic, I think), and Hope after the service. Hope was fussy and clung to me like a velcro midget (she loved being held by him last December, but whaddyagonnado). He speaks fluent Spanish and was telling me about Orthodox liturgical materials that he had had translated for the Mexican Exarchate; he said he was going to see about getting me the materials I didn't already have. May God grant an increase in this area of outreach; efforts so far have been, by and large, quite frustrating, for reasons beyond me...

May God grant His Eminence many years!

Keystone Nests, Patty Sauce

This has been posted over at Seraphim's blog Ancient Church for a while, but I'm just getting around to "breaking the news" here...

He's got a section on "Orthodox Writers" that you can visit by clicking the link at the top of his blog (the link's in the sidebar). My submission is here, for those of you not wanting to click around elsewhere on that page...

¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Nena!

The party won't be until this Saturday, but "my life" (as the phrase goes in Spanish) turns one year old today! May God grant this little beauty many, many years!

Joyful Knocking

Audra and I stayed up late last night talking about the last five or so years since we first started dating...in that time there's been a lot of changes in our lives theologically, and each of our respective changes have been quite different from the other's.

One of hers that she mentioned was being lazy, allowing the "I don't want to" attitude to get in the way of doing morning prayers, the reasons being everything from "I didn't really totally choose this for myself to begin with" (I was the one who introduced her to the faith initially), or "I don't feel like God hears/is answering"...yet she said two things that really resonated with me:

1) "No one's making me be Orthodox." -- True, she can't ever say that she chose this faith via an objective decision, unhindered by any other relationship with any other person, but she's stayed with it, continued to choose it for four and a half years now. Kind of takes the "I didn't choose to submit to this" aspect out of it.

2) "I'm just going to keep knocking on God's door, until even the knocking itself becomes a joy." Even if God never answers, she said, the daily and yearly cycles of prayer are themselves to be a joy, simply because of He who is on the other side of that door. (She wanted me to say that that second quote might be from something she read in one of Metr. Anthony Bloom's books, but she's not sure. Regardless, it's deep).

Little Tortilla Boy

Pablo Francisco does the most amazing imitations I've ever seen. Here is his well-known "Little Tortilla Boy" sketch, along with other various imitations in a great standup routine on Leno several years back.

They're Back!

OK, so they've been back since Saturday night. Been busy.

They flew in lat(er than originally planned), and both looked tired, but I got weary smiles from them both. Greater than I can express here to have them back. The house is alive again.

Pentecost on Sunday--this is the fulfillment of the promise, the "completion of hope," the moment when the grace of God makes up for that which is lacking in man and gives us the power to be His witnesses to the ends of the earth.

First birthday party for little Hope E. is coming up in a couple of weeks. A belated shout out to my boy Alan and his girl Aubrey for completing five years of marriage on June 1. Yeah. I'm mad late.

Audra and I completed four years a week after that--she was in KY, however, and we've since not had a good time to make that up. She's finishing her graduate work and is usually on the PC whenever she can be. This definitely is a strain, but she'll be done after this summer, then it's on to actually being a librarian.

The Psalter--the steady flow of the Kathisma echoes, time and again: our sufficiency is not in ourselves, but in the steady, quiet voice of God who will not force Himself on you, who will not impress you with loud, grand words of thunder that shock and awe you into submission. Rather He will simply tell you, in that still, small way of His, that you are His, He made you to live in communion with Him, no other life will suffice in place of said communion, and no other incentive will be given other than the tranquil insistence of the Holy Spirit and the unchanging, secure witness of the Holy Scriptures. Compulsion will not take place here. All necessary grace has been given and is being given. We now must respond if we are to live, period, for refusal to still the raging passions for the sake of the even placidity of the fire of God will end in the eternal torment of one who, in craving novelty and stimulation, is forced to endure the hell of God's never-ending, always-contemplative, ever-worthy holiness.

Craving a Challenge

This post by Brother Aiden on oc . net (in the sidebar) is one of the most right-on assessments of effectively reaching out to youth that I've read.

This...Sucks...

OK, seriously, I would make the worst monastic in the world. Wanna know why?

Seriously, it shouldn't come as a surprise to any of you once I actually tell you, seeing as how I'm deeply involved in both the blogosphere and an online discussion forum...

All right, here it is, my confession...

...I am a community junkie. That, and I've always been addicted to physical contact...not even actual touch would be necessary, just the presence of another person in the same building with me. Church, dinner at aunt and uncle's house, coffee today with Nick (Fr.'s son and the choir director @ church), the new gig I've got for the next month (may God grant) with the school district--all this contact with people has been a lifeline. 'Cause I gotta tell ya', I come home here, and it's quiet. And empty. And icons are precious little companionship. So AIM and blogs and theological discussions online ensue as an "out," some kind of contact to fill the silence.

A silence which falls back on me as soon as the PC shuts down. And it's a silence which, I know, would speak volumes to me about the hollowness of my heart and my need for God to fill it if I'd stop and listen, but...I really don't want to. As should be obvious.

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us..." Sure would be nice to lean up against the holy flesh of the Lord right now...then again...would it burn? With joy? Or aching longing?

Did You ever know loneliness
Did You ever know need
Do You remember just how long a night can get?
When You were barely holding on
And Your friends fall asleep
And don't see the blood that's running in Your sweat

*****

And I know you bore our sorrows
And I know you feel our pain
And I know it would not hurt any less
Even if it could be explained

And I know that I am only lashing out
At the One who loves me most

*****

I can't see how You're leading me unless You've led me here
Where I'm lost enough to let myself be led
And so You've been here all along I guess
It's just Your ways and You are just plain hard to get

~~ Rich Mullins

IDIOT...!

What. The. Trash.

Lioness in zoo kills man who invoked God

Mon Jun 5, 2006 8:31am ET

KIEV (Reuters) - A man shouting that God would keep him safe was mauled to death by a lioness in Kiev zoo after he crept into the animal's enclosure, a zoo official said on Monday. "The man shouted 'God will save me, if he exists', lowered himself by a rope into the enclosure, took his shoes off and went up to the lions," the official said. "A lioness went straight for him, knocked him down and severed his carotid artery." The incident, Sunday evening when the zoo was packed with visitors, was the first of its kind at the attraction. Lions and tigers are kept in an "animal island" protected by thick concrete blocks.

© Reuters 2006. All Rights Reserved.

***************************
Comment: The Prophet Daniel. St. Ignatius of Antioch. Countless other holy martyrs who met their end this way...and now this joker wants to do this in order to test God.

[deep breath]

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Church Saturday night and yesterday; a small group of guys showed up for Great Vespers, so a male-only service. Something about the quiet, even strength exhibited in male voices chanting a service helps me, somehow, to focus more than a mixed choir.

Liturgy was half choir/half male chanters (our ladies were under the weather and had to bow out half way through). Got my "baby fix" by taking my newborn godson up to communion. He's much wider awake now, though calm. A miracle unifying with his Maker. What a joy.

Went over to (and spent the entire afternoon in) Azle, at the house of a family from our parish. Good, long talks w/James, the dad, over stuffed bell peppers and Negra Modelo about life, history, faith, prayer, geneaology, struggles, family (and the identity that comes with it), responsiblity, iconography and painted art in general (both of which James has done), spiritual warfare, church politics, stand-up comedy, music...you can see why this took up the whole afternoon. Was given a copy of the Psalter according to the Seventy put out by Holy Transfiguration Monastery, since he happened to have two copies. That translation (online here) is one of the smoothest translations for chanting I've ever heard; today's kathisma went by in no time.

I always love that sort of thing...when members of a parish just get together and socialize. No other agenda, not even any kind of service, just relaxing together as family. Good times.

Stuck at Home...

...and according to the photos my wife is taunting me with posting on Hope's website, I'm missing this:

Not. Fair. Seriously: who said she could change so much in a week?!

Mission-Minded Parish

A breath of fresh air for me...

I know, Come Receive the Light has been in my sidebar for months, and I myself am just getting around to listening to this, but the link is an excellent interview w/Fr. Luke Veronis, an OCMC missionary in Africa and Albania, about being mission-minded.

Dat Bwessed...Ebent...

And now, the pictures from Steve and Luda's wedding! Orthodox weddings begin in the back of the worship area, or nave, where the priest will take the rings and place them on the hands of the couple. This is called the betrothal, where "the servant of God Steven is betrothed unto the handmaiden of God Ludmila, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." The names are then switched and the second ring placed on the other person's hand.
The betrothed are brought to the middle of the nave to where the table with the gospel book, a common cup of wine, and two wedding crowns are. The rest of the ceremony will be carried out here.
Father prays over the betrothed, that God will bless them as He blessed Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Rachel. Steve really is, btw, quite happy to be here, as you'll see below, but this picture of Luda is just too good to pass up.
Another "goodie." The choir was singing several different hymns -- mostly about the Incarnation, for just as God became one with humanity in the person of Christ and we are to become one with God in our lives, so the two are to become one flesh and thus give glory to God. Father seemed to get lost in this part. We are truly lucky to have this man as our father in Christ.
Candles were lit, one for each of the betrothed, as lights to reflect Christ, the Light of the world, the one who unifies them. Two candles, one light...you get it.
Now this was an interesting tradition, one that is apparently Ukranian, where the betrothed have their right hands bound together by a cloth. My first thought was that, since the right hand is, in biblical language and that of other ancient civilizations, the hand of strength, these hands are bound to show the unifying of the strengths of each of the betrothed, working together as members of Christ's Church. (It should be added here that Orthodox couples in traditionally Orthodox lands, as well as some Orthodox here in the US--like my wife and I--wear their wedding bands on their right hands. I have no idea if Steve and Luda chose to do this, though.)

See? Told you Steve was glad to be here. ;-)
Father then takes two wedding crowns and, just as he did with the rings in the betrothal service, chants, "The servant of God Steven is crowned unto the handmaiden of God Ludmila, in the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit" three times, then switches names. Audra and I had our wedding crowns placed on us, but apparently in the Russian tradition, the crowns are held above the heads of the couple by the best man and the maid of honor. (Xenia Jules, you should be grateful if you're reading this!) These crowns represent both the crowning of the couple as king and queen of their household, which is supposed to be a microcosm of the Kingdom of God, as well as crowns of martyrdom, where each person takes on a life of self-denial, a dying to self for the purpose of submitting to and serving one another, "that they may stand before their fellows and in [God's] sight as an ideal family and...worthy of everlasting life," having given their lives to God and one another.
The priest will then read the gospel lesson from the Wedding at Cana, where the Lord Jesus, in coming to that wedding, blessed marriage and "declared it to be an honorable estate" by His performing His first miracle.
These two pictures are the drinking of the common cup of wine, again an icon of both the shared joys and sorrows that married life will inevitably bring.












This last photograph is probably my favorite--an Unwedded Bride in the foreground, humbly looking downward; a newly- wedded bride in the background, posed in much the same way.

Many, many, many blessed years.

Christ is Ascended! He is Ascended in Glory!

From last night's vespers service:

Without leaving the Father's bosom,
having lived with mankind as a Man,
today You have ascended in glory from the Mount,
mercifully raising our fallen nature,
enthroning it with the Father on high.
The angelic hosts were amazed with awe, seeing Your great love for mankind!
With them, we glorify Your condescension to us;
with them, we glorify Your Ascension from us.
By it, You filled Your disciples and Your Mother with great joy.
By their prayers, and through Your great mercy
make us, Your chosen people, worthy of this joy!

O God, You have refashioned the nature of Adam,
which had fallen into the depths of the earth.
You have led it up today above every Principality and Power,
for in Your love for it, You have seated it together with Yourself.
Since You have taken compassion on it You united it to Yourself
and having been united with it, You suffered with it;
as not subject to suffering, yet You suffered and glorified it with Yourself!
The bodiless ones said: “Who is this Man of beauty?
He is not only a Man;
He is both God and Man, united and manifested in One!”
Astonished Angels, some flying in glorious apparel, and some standing
near the Disciples, cried out:
“Men of Galilee, the One gone from You is Jesus, Who is both God and Man!”
The God-Man will come again as the Judge of the living and the dead,
granting to the faithful remission of sins and great mercy!

When the Angels beheld You ascending from the Mount of Olives, O Christ,
they cried to one another:
“Who is this? He is strong and mighty!
He is mighty in battle!
He is truly the King of Glory!
But why are His vestments purpled?
He is from Bozra, which is to say, ‘the flesh.’” (Is. 63:1)
As God, You sat at the right hand of majesty.
You sent us the Holy Spirit to guide and save our souls!

God has gone up with a shout;
the Lord with the sound of a trumpet,
in order to raise the fallen image of Adam,
and to send the comforting Spirit,
Who will sanctify our souls!

And, tying it all together today during Divine Liturgy:

When You fulfilled the dispensation for our sake,
and united earth to heaven:
You ascended in glory, O Christ our God,
not being parted from those who love You,
but remaining with them and crying:
“I am with you, and no one will be against you!

A Little Sincerity, A Little Hilarity...

Was going to put something inspiring (rolls eyes at self) re: the Ascension of Christ, the commemoration of which begins (for us Orthodox) at sundown tomorrow, but Seraphim at Ancient Church has beaten me to it here, and said it better than I think I could have. Bravo. (On a side note, I thoroughly enjoy the fact that Pentecost--which is ten days later and is the commemoration of the coming of the Holy Spirit to found the Church--is also the day my family comes home!)

He also links to this right beneath his ascension post. It. Is. The. Funniest. Thing. I've. Read. In. Weeks.

We Remember

Thank you.

HOPAK!!!

I was blessed to be asked to sing in the choir for the uniting in holy matrimony of Steve Hall and Luda Chuba (now Hall), two members of our church here in Ft. Worth who met during their teen years, fell in love and are now man and wife. God grant them many years!

I am going to Wal-Mart to drop off the pics of the wedding immediately after publishing this post, so in a couple of days there should be a "wedding walk-thru" post akin to the chrismation one several posts down, but what I can describe to you now is the absolute joy that is a Ukranian wedding reception.

Seriously. Ukranian. Wedding. Receptions. Rock.

Or polka, I should say. We got there after the ceremony and at first went through the buffet, sat, talked about how gorgeous Luda looked, how dated some of the late-70s/early 80s music was (I still contend that when I was born, good music died), etc. But when they started playing polka music, I had to get out on the dance, um, aisle between the rows of tables. As I am currently sans wifey and daughter, Hope's godmother Lindsey graciously agreed to stand in. T'was a bit awkward dancing in a cassock, but there you have it. Also polka-ed w/the bride; now that was a fun thing to see...a twirling mass of black, white, black, white, black, white. I did, however, dreadfully missed not being able to dance with Audra; I also missed not being able to scoop up my little Anza and take her for a whirl out on the floor. She giggles like crazy when we dance together. All in all, though, good times, good booze, good food, and...hopak! (NOTE: the pics and video clips are not from the reception, but they're a good representation.)

Now, seriously (I say that a lot), I tend to enjoy things like art, music, dance, and many of these things evoke emotions of various kinds, but the sheer celebration that was conveyed on the faces of these people when they danced the official national dance of the Ukraine was the most fun I've experienced in recent memory, and all I was doing was just clapping and yelling "HEY!" in time with the music while other people danced! What an amazing way to show your joy for what has just occurred in the lives of these two young Christians!

The party went on until about midnight, and on the way out to the car, I was stopped by a couple--friends of Steve and Luda--who had seen me in my since-shed cassock during the wedding and the first part of the reception (hey, dancing works up a sweat, especially in a heavy cassock!), and asked me about the Orthodox Church. They were both disaffected Christians from other confessions whose specific issues with their former confessions were really non-issues in Orthodoxy, much to their pleasant surprise. What followed was about a 45 minute Q and A time about the faith, ending with their asking when Vespers would be this week. God works. Lord, have mercy, and many, many blessed years for the newly-united servants of God Steven and Ludmila Hall!

They Made It...

Audra and Hope made it to KY safe and sound, but tired...due to a delay from the arriving flight, they didn't leave 'till 5:30, then had to fly in a holding pattern for an hour or two (lovely, I'm sure, with a baby) due to a storm over St. Louis. Said storm turned what was to be a 2.5 hr. layover into a mad dash to the other end of O'Hare, because when they finally landed in Chicago her connecting flight to Louisville (pronounced 'LOO-uh-vuhl,' as my wife was quick to inform me while we were dating) was boarding. Yeah. So they made it OK, and were too tired to think about calling, so they woke me up this morning to let me know they'd arrived. God be praised.

My uncle Jeff got through the transplant OK, and Nancy seems to be receiving the kidney well, but due to shortness of breath and possible heart problems (?!) Jeff is going to be in the ICU for a few more days. Thanks for prayers so far. Continue, please.

Prayers asked...

For my uncle, Jeff, who's to be a kidney donor here in a couple of hours for a sick friend of the family, Nancy. Prayers the surgery goes well, w/out complications afterwards...

Also, Audra and Hope will be flying out to KY tomorrow evening, and returning the evening of the 10th. So prayers for safe travel there. Thanks.

TGIF...and TGFOT...

Last day of school!!! So, obviously, THIS Friday is particularly great for me.

Another TGIF moment today, though: it just occurred me this morning how, traditionally in the Eastern Orthodox Church, the readings of the psalms for Friday morning are Ps. 134-150 (tha't's 135-->the end in western Bibles). Read through it today; apparently there's plenty of other reasons to "praise ye the LORD" besides it just being Friday (Who knew?). Nice meditation.

The TGFOT is "Thank God for our toddler." Yes, gentle readers, our little Hope Elizabeth is walking...taking more and more steps in a row each day (we think she's up to 11 in a row now), and she has the battle scars to prove it. Any parent of a toddler knows that any toddler doing the, um, toddling will, at any given moment and (of course!) in the worst possible way, fall at lightning speed to the ground upon losing his/her balance (seriously: how did any of us have the guts to keep trying 'till we got this walking thing down?!). Anza did this yesterday, and went, nose first, onto her toybox. Yes, we had little nosebleed. She was a trooper, though; t'weren't nothin' a nice, cold popsicle and Mama's arms and kisses couldn't fix (I know, I know, WAY too mushy this early in the morning, but whaddyagonnado?).

Pushing on Dark Walls

I can't remember the exact quote--it had something to do with soldiers (or fighters of some sort) in a traditionally Orthodox country and who (as we all tend to do) wanted to bring faith into this us-vs.-them secular conflict to bolster the fight--and a monastic in the country said, "These people will do anything to preserve their faith...except fast and pray."

The terror of actual encounter is much less palatable than talking theology/internet forums/blogging/online teaching podcasts/intellectual exercises/military, flag-waving causes-tied-to-faith.

The great darkness where God lives is before us. Entering is something we must do, else we're seen as false and half-hearted disciples, yet this direct, sober, person-to-Person experience of God threatens to (and will, in a sense) destroy us, and so many of us flee, myself included (and especially). Pursuit for no other reason than (yet with no guarantee of) finding God is our motive. Lord, have mercy.

Memory Eternal...

This is late, I know, but for all who don't keep up with him, Jarolslav Pelikan, a former Lutheran theologian turned Orthodox whose history of the Christian Church is unparalleled in its depth and objectivity, passed away ten days ago. May his memory be eternal.

An Unexpected Honor...

You know, you never really are sure who reads your blog, and then you read things like what's on this page on the Our Life in Christ page from someone in Pennsylvania...

I came across one of your most recent radio shows that was linked from the Oh Taste And See blog site.

Humbling to know that my meager ramblings are being read. God bless.

The Newly Illumined Joshua Alexander

Pictures to come...the little guy was baptized this past Sunday. Good to be godparents again. God grant him many years...

More Funny Stuff...

...from The Onion Dome's Orthodox Bumper Sticker contest a while back. Some of my favs:

• My Church wrote your Bible.
• Horn Broken, Listen for Anathema
• Orthodoxy — Ancestors you can’t remember are part of our Church
• Wisdom! Let us attend… to the road!
• Have you kised your Mother’s Icon today?
• Your Mother Church — keeping the “Ma” in “dogma.”
• Orthodoxy: If It Aint’ Broke.…
• Honk if you know what this means: IC XC NIKA
• Being Saved
• Universality, Antiquity, Consent
• 51% Atkins-Friendly
• Not so Close! I may need to do prostrations.
• The Orthodox Church: Not Only Standing for the Truth, But Never Sitting Down Either
• I (heart) Theotokos
• Fish Sticks have NO BACKBONE!
• Orthodoxy: Kickin’ it old school since 33 A.D.
• I’d rather be censing.
• Eat my antidoron.

Stuff That Annoys Me

OK, so I'm pretty sure this was a George Carlin thing (sure sounds like him), but I can relate...

People who point at their wrist while asking for the time. I know where my watch is buddy, where the heck is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the bathroom is?

When people say "Oh you just want to have your cake and eat it too". What good is a cake if you can't eat it? What, should I eat someone else's cake instead?

When people say "It's always in the last place you look". Of course it is. Why in the world would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people do this? Who and where are they?

When people say, while watching a movie "Did you see that?" No, moron, I paid $9.00 to come to the theatre and stare at the frigging ceiling up there. What did you come here for?

When something is "new and improved", which is it? If it's new, then there has never been anything before it. If it's an improvement, then there must have been something before it.

When people say "Life is short." What the...?? Life is the longest friggin' thing anyone ever does!! What? Are they going to do something that's longer?

When you are waiting for the bus and someone ask you "Did the bus come yet?" If the bus came, I would not be standing here, genius!

People who ask "Can I ask you a question?" Didn't really give me a choice there, did ya', buddy?