Ocean Orchestra @ Typepad

Politics and Prime Time

    This week something remarkable happened: the inauguration of Barack Obama to the White House. And yes, it was truly remarkable, no matter which of the two parties you belong. I listened to his speech and the following jamboree on the radio, since I was at work and was only able to catch a glimpse of the televisions up front. It was good, great, grood even, and it felt good to finally see this thing realized. What, pray tell, do I mean here by "thing"? Well, in fact, a number of things, not the least of which is the induction of a black man to our highest office; that right there has been a long time coming. But perhaps more mundanely I meant simply the inauguration itself. I couldn't bear another morning of waking up to the pundits going on about how he's almost our new president. It's hard to believe two whole months passed since that whirlwind of an election. In fact, I've been thinking lately of that momentous occasion, and just how fast it all really happened.
    On the night of November 4, 2008, I left church and headed over to my friends' house nearby to say hello. When I got there, they were, of course, avidly watching the start of the election coverage on all the major networks. I told them right off the bat I would not be staying to watch. I was merely coming over to say hello, visit a bit, and would be headed home to wait until the next morning to find out the results of the election.
    “Why wouldn't you want to watch?” they wondered. Indeed, to my friends, as to most Americans that night, my aspirations to avoid the election coverage at all costs must have sounded asinine. This was the most important night of the year – the night we had all been waiting for, which seemed to capture practically every bit of journalistic interest for as long as any of us could remember.
    Of course, a part of me did want to watch – and watch I did, for a while. I, like any informed citizen, had tried my best to keep up with the election coverage so as to guarantee my vote would be knowledgeable, sincere and full of conviction. So naturally I was interested in the outcome. But in my gut, however, I knew that it was curiosity that killed the cat, and my gut was not interested in the imminent ulcer several grueling hours of nail-biting news coverage would surely supply.
    I like to think, however, that it was more than just my tummy's well-being that had me so opposed to the carnival of coverage. I hoped there was also in my delinquency an ingredient civil noncompliance, meaning I could abide by the constraint of ideas and principles over and against my personal gratification and the thrill of television at its most unscripted. There was a feeling I just couldn't shake, which mirrored perhaps the feeling you get when, having slept through a long flight, you wake up in a different country and climate, on a different day, and among foreign-tongued civilians. In other words, this election business was all happening so fast. In my own state of Kentucky, polls had opened that morning at 6 AM and closed about 12 hours later. Next, Americans collectively took a breath and held it.  For five hours the nation sat rapt before the flat screen HD TV, spiking network ratings perhaps not seen since the last hotly contested election four years earlier. Then came the most anticipated exhale of the century. That same night we had a new president, not 6 hours after the polls had closed.
    OK, I admit it. I watched the whole damn thing. But let's face it: if I hadn't how could I bloviate on the matter as I am? Perhaps this time around, my nervousness was overcome by disbelief. I simply could not understand how the networks felt confident enough to call a state for McCain or Obama when only 5% of the state's vote had been counted. More mystifying still, how could they call Washington, Oregon, and California for Obama immediately after their polls closed? It's not that I was dissatisfied with the outcome (I had become an avid Obama recruit), but just how was it that they were able to “project” without fail which way every state and commonwealth in the Union would fall, red or blue, Republican or Democrat, McCain or Obama?
    Not only could I not get a grip on the networks' crystal ball clairvoyance, I refused to believe this divination was ideal. Sure, it was nice to know the outcome, to “just get it over with”, to let all those months of anticipation dissipate in buoyant joy or bitter sorrow. But I wondered what were we forsaking in our capitulation to prime time politics? How is it that we were willing to parse down the most important decision of the year, of the next four years, in fact, to a matter of moments? Poor Obama and McCain: so obliged were they to ready themselves for crowning victory or devastating defeat only hours after they left the campaign trail. Gone were the days when each vote was taken singularly and seriously, when the gravity of a nation's resolve outweighed the “urgency of now.” In those days of yore, eager voters had to wait for weeks before every vote was tallied, and a consensus reached. On November 4th, 2008, we could hardly wait till the polls closed before pronouncing our victor.
    I wondered: Was this democracy? Was this our sacred ritual of freedom? Perhaps instead this was a sort of ruse, a comic diffusion done up and digestible for the attention-deficient American public. Rather than any dignified sign of civil liberty, this looked to me much more like Hollywood donning wig and gavel to feed us the plot line which we'd come to crave. Suddenly it made sense that the the dust would settle so quickly. Could we, as 21st century American citizens, really bear the suspense of an actual tally of votes? I hardly thought so. We're the nation of fast food, TV dinners and instant messaging. We've come to expect a happy ending after a couple of hours. In other words, we demand instant gratification, and our presidential elections are no exception.
    There was something else entirely lost in our mad dash to victory that Tuesday night. So much of the drama of it revolved around the either-or sensibility. The good vs. bad, old vs. young, and experience vs. change narratives the media had written for us (and the candidates stuck by) played perfectly into our preconceived paradigm of contest. The United States democratic process has been locked in a two-party system for decades. Ross Perot made a decent run in 1996 on account of his deep pockets. And on occasion, rogues like Ralph Nader are lambasted for “stealing votes” from the two major candidates. In spite of these anomalies, the essence of our political process has long lain at the feet of two very similar giants. Of course, the general public doesn't see them as all that similar. They can be delineated with labels like “big government” and “fiscal conservative” easily enough. It's not that these names accurately describe the parties they are assigned to. It's just a way for us to keep things simple, to eliminate any shade but black and white. We've got to keep things simple or we might get confused. We like our elections like we like our sports: Two teams, one winner. Ties are a necessary evil. But bringing a third team onto the field – or worse yet, a fourth or fifth – just doesn't fit the bill.
    Hence, the vote for third party is often derided as a “wasted vote,” and often the voter's conscience is overrun by pragmatism simply to avoid the spoiler effect. What's the point of voting for someone who's never going to win? Or so goes the logic. This rationale does not reign supreme, however. In every election you still hear of the bleeding hearts out there who hold out hope for a democratic process bigger than just two parties. The evidence is clear. Ralph Nader and company netted nearly 700,000 votes. Bob Barr of the Libertarians caught nearly half a million, and Charles Baldwin, Ron Paul's pick, about 200,000. These are by no means massive or impressive results. But they demonstrate, at least, that the outcasts had captured some interest – well over a million voters' collectively. Racing across the finish line on election night, prematurely calling Obama's or McCain's name for every state completely cuts these contenders out of the race. Why? Because their race is any less valid than the Democrats and Republicans'? Because they're less American than the front runners? Hardly. Most of it comes down to money, and the rest goes to public disinterest. We can't tolerate the wait – especially if the wait involves a pack of nobodies – and so we rush ahead, call the game before we hop in bed, and let the day end.
    By no means do I wish for my critique here to detract from the “historic nature” of the recent election. I've said already that Obama was my man this year, and I'm glad he won. I wouldn't have minded, though, waiting a few more days for things to actually happen, rather than simply letting the talking heads call it for me well ahead of time. I lament, too, that our system can't bear more competition than the little we're provided between two parties. Civilized democracies – and even some third world governments – around the world enjoy three parties. Several European countries boast five or six parties even. At times these separate groups align to form a more powerful coalition and solidify a win. Other times they'll go it alone, resting on the strength of their distinct platforms. But options like these are the name of the game when more than two parties are possible. Voters can indulge in the privilege of deliberation. We, too, have access to said privilege. We need only move beyond black and white and into the shades of partisan gray. This, however, may forever remain too tall an order for Americans, so long we call our elections like we do the Kentucky Derby.

A Perennial Question

…”Why do we not voluntarily abandon what must be destroyed when this life comes to an end, so that we might gain the kingdom of Heaven? Let Christians care for nothing that they cannot take away with them. We ought rather to seek after that which will lead us to Heaven; namely wisdom, chastity, justice, virtue, an ever watchful mind, care for the poor, firm faith in Christ, a mind that can control anger, hospitality. Striving after these things, we shall prepare for ourselves a dwelling in the land of the peaceful, as it says in the Gospel.”

St. Athanasius

Pray for the persecuted

Today, this day before the birth of our Lord, we should remember to pray for those around this earth who suffer greatly for His Name. American Christians know personally very little of these tribulations, and perhaps none whatsoever, given our high acclaim as Americans first and foremost. I sometimes think Christians in America tend to live in our own little world; we feel snubbed if someone writes a article or shoots a film to poke fun at us; we make our enemies on the various fronts of the "culture war" out to be seven-headed sea beast himself.

In light of these petty grievances, we could ask ourselves: are we truly united in Christ with those who suffer daily for the faith? How can we even begin to be if we are not bathed with them in prayer for them?

Every day at morning and evening prayers, the Orthodox Church remembers the saints who have been tortured and put to death for their love of Christ and His Bride, the Church. Perhaps this is because from its inception, Orthodox Christianity has at large not been without serious persecution. Even during the Byzantine empire, when Church and State were very closely linked, there was a long line of deposed bishops for the sake of the Gospel. 

Below is an article on the nature of present-day persecution of Christians. While it's not stated explicitly in the article, I inferred that most of Christians under these hostile regimes are of the Orthodox Church, given this makes up the significant majority of Christians in Muslim nations. But whichever communion these Christians belong to, it's terrifying to read that the children of our Lord -- our siblings in the faith -- must undergo this intense oppression. Pray for them!

Struggle to Stay Christian

by Julia Duin via the Washington Times

He sat in my office, a Turkish scholar and theologian who helps people who are tortured for their faith.

According to Ziya Meral, it's the converts from Islam to Christianity who are some of the most forsaken on Earth.

The police don't help them; their families hate them; and their friends want to kill them. And some of the worst treatment occurs in the gulags of America's allies.

"Egypt is one of the worst countries in terms of torture," Mr. Meral said. "Once you are detained, that's it. The security services can keep you without charges for six, seven months, and then renew those charges."

It was there he encountered a man who had endured horrific suffering for leaving Islam.

"A few days into his torture, he broke down and gave up hope," Mr. Meral said. "They were laughing and saying, 'You're screaming and there is no one out there. No one can help you.'"

Of the world's 2 billion Christians, 200 million are persecuted in some way. Many of them are in Islamic countries or in rabidly anti-religious regimes such as North Korea's. These countries ignore the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which grants people freedom to choose their religion.

The persecution from Muslims is so intense, 70 percent of all Islamic converts to Christianity give up their adopted faith in two years, Mr. Meral said.

"Your society, your family, everyone is against you and you are completely left alone," he said.

Once their switch to another faith is made known, converts first lose their jobs. Angry parents will seek to have their children taken away from them. Others are told their marriages are no longer valid. In many countries, secular law is subservient to Islamic Shariah law, which proscribes death for converts.

Mr. Meral has a book, "No Place to Call Home: Experiences of Apostates From Islam and Failures of the International Community," published by Christian Solidarity Worldwide. It is about people like Jeje Nehamiah Baki, a nomad from Chad who converted to Christianity in 1995. His father-in-law took custody of Mr. Baki's wife and children and when the convert tried visiting his family in 2002, the father-in-law killed Mr. Baki's oldest son to teach the father a lesson.

Or Nissar Hussein, a British citizen living in a majority-Pakistani community in Britain who converted to Christianity in 1996 along with his wife, Qubra. When groups of Asian men began smashing the windows of their home, throwing garbage at their front door and driving a car into Mr. Hussein's parked automobile, the police refused to protect them. Local churches were of no help either.

Mr. Meral was particularly shaken by the two-hour torture session, followed by the murder of two converts to Christianity and a German missionary in Malatya, Turkey, on Jan. 28, 2007. One of the dead was Necati Aydin, a former schoolmate.

"Christians in the Middle East are asking 'Where is God?' Most of the world doesn't have a warm place to stay or health insurance. Does God love the West more?" he wondered. Now 30, Mr. Meral was 19 when he announced he had converted.

Since then, "I've had such problems with my family," he said, adding he's nearly given up his faith twice. "It's always been such a continual struggle to remain a Christian. What does it mean to believe in a crucified God?"

For more on the persecuted Church, visit this PDF for a quick debriefing. I should mention that I don't actually think much of this article. I think it's rather oblique, since it does little to detail the lives of Christians in these areas overall (and not just the converts), and the comment regarding local churches not helping is asinine. It seems to imply that they were simply unfeeling, compassionless, when the thought of a Muslim converting to Christianity without the local support of a Christian community makes no sense at all. Why would anyone willfully take on such condemnation if he hasn't been willingly converted -- i.e. engaged in dialogue, found the claims true, seen the truth played out in practice? The comment seems almost tacked on in order to corroborate the article's description of the victim's helpless scenario. Still, I'm posting it here simply to make us more aware of the greater problem, my beefs with the article itself aside.

Hopko on Armageddon

Hopko on Armageddon

Grandfathering our Causes

Today I read an article on the restoration and grand reopening of the cathedral of St. John the Divine in Manhattan, arguably one of the most beautiful works of church architecture in the US. A friend of mine recently turned me on to this place, and I've been eager to check it out next time I'm in NYC. But since the church building belongs to Episcopalians, I naturally wondered to myself, "What do they believe and teach there?"

I asked my friend, and I'm not sure if she got the question. She assumed that, since they are Christians, they are teaching Christian doctrine. But as is becoming ever more clear, one can't make any kind of assumptions when it comes to the beliefs of Episcopalians. (Fr. Atty recently said that "Christian" is the loosest word in the English language...) Indeed, For instance, I just read an account of a St. Francis Day Gaia Mass at the self-same cathedral some fifteen years ago, in which "worshipers brought their pets and ... a faithful dog or two [was] given Holy Communion". This account was related in the broader context of the long-held practice among Anglicans and Episcopalians of "open communion", i.e. serving the Eucharist to any believer. This understanding has gradually broadened, and made grand strides in the 20th century, and seems to be making grander strides still. Now it's seems that anyone, Christian or no, may receive communion in many Episcopalian parishes. The idea, I suppose, could be that the person obviously wants to, so why deny him or her? Maybe they'll end up accepting Christ in the process...?

 But I digress. As much as I'd love to go on regarding the sacrality of Christian Communion, this is not why I began this post. (I'd love to hear what you think, however, on that matter.) Instead, there was something in the New York Times article I read that kind of bugged me. According to the article, this was some celebration. Ton of the people were there. The massive organ was played for the first time in seven years. A Roman Catholic Cardinal and a Jewish rabbi were there. Celebrity firefighters and politicians came, most notably Hillary Clinton, who apparently gave a rousing speech. In his celebratory sermon, dean of the Cathedral, James Kowalski, summoned the thought of MLK, Jr. to the beauty of the moment. Kowalski gave voice to the parish's aspirations, including "to launch this new chapter of service to the world, to the life of the world in response to God’s gracious and all-encompassing love.” This is typical Christian language, for sure, but coming from via an Episcopalian conduit, the language is colored by the recent debates and near-rift over the role of homosexuals in church life. Kowalski tried to make it clear, apparently without any direct references, that the restored building would prove a bastion of "tolerance and diversity". Not of faith, hope, and love. Not of self-denial and pursuit of Christ above all.

I admit, tolerance and diversity are two traits often painfully lacking in church life. But compared to the love of Christ, that which surpasses all wisdom, knowledge and aspiration, I have to say that tolerance and diversity -- as priorities -- turn sickly and pale. Christ is all, and it is He who champions all justice and mercy. Our cowboy theology and pet causes take no precedent when faced with his commands:

   “ Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean;
      Put away the evil of your doings from before My eyes.
      Cease to do evil,
      Learn to do good;
      Seek justice,
      Rebuke the oppressor;
      Defend the fatherless,
      Plead for the widow. 
Isaiah 1:16-17

It's easy to read our personal passions into this. We can "seek justice" however we please, but if it is not clothed in goodness, and in love of GOD and his intimate communion, then ultimately everything we set our hand to will be flawed.

To top everything off, Kowalski in his sermon evoked the Reverend MLK, Jr., as one who "embodied hope." Kowalski remembered how "[MLK] said we must believe that a prejudiced mind can be changed by the grace of God, lifted from the valley of hate to the high mountain of love.” Indeed, this was King's mission, and is now his legacy. I wonder, however, how sound it is to impose his personal mission upon missions of our own. Can we really backtrack -- "grandfather" so to speak -- our own pursuits in the line of King's ideals? Would King have approved of the rift in Episcopalian communion? Would he have favored Kowalski's regiment? King emulated Christ in pursuing equality among all peoples. But as Kurt Vonnegut demonstrated in "Harrison Bergeron", equality is not all that easy to tag. Given the nature of the controversy among Episcopalians, would King have identified with their struggle?

Milemarker muddy and melancholy

Last wave goodbye

One year ago today I boarded a train to France and stared blankly out the glass at what I felt could have been my best possible life. Chris, Jana, Fridolin. Max. Vienna, Austria. All of it about to float backwards as the compartment doors sealed and gears rattled and shifted. I could have stood up, screamed NO! thrown my bags out of the car and never left. Yes, I could have stayed there. There are days yet I wonder if I shouldn't have. 

Now that I've been out of Austria for a full year, I have had ample opportunity to reflect on what it offered me. Tonight, while reading a longish poem of Wendell Berry's -- entitled "The Farm" -- I was reminded of one such sweet gift. 

Best of all is the fruit,

Sweetest and prettiest:

The strawberries and cherries,

The gooseberries and currants,

Raspberries and blackberries

(The best are wild), grapes, pears, 

Apples early and late--

These gleamings in the sun

That gleam upon the tongue

And gleam put in jars

And gleam within the mind.

Of all your harvests, those

Are pleasantest that come

Freest: blackberries from

Wild fencerows; strawberries

You happen on in crossing

The green hillsides in June;

Wild cherries and wild grapes,

Sour at first, then sweet;

Persimmons and blackhaws

That you pick up to eat

On days you walk among

The red and yellow leaves;

And walnuts, hickory nuts

Gathered beneath the trees.

In your wild foragings

The earth feeds you the way

She feeds the beasts and birds.

I was reminded in reading this how so many I met there had gardens of their own. True gardens, with small orchards all their own: a cherry tree that crept up and crooked like an arthritic hand the entire height of the house; peach trees I picked from in early summer -- at first I plucked the low-hanging fruit, then as the weeks went on, Chris had me use his ladder to snag those higher up; the apricot tree which taught me to love its fruit; the domesticated blueberry bushes and strawberry vines in short, well-tended rows.

I remembered too how we once took a trip to "Strawberry Land", where we filled baskets to the brim with fresh berries, and ate to our bellys' content what we couldn't fit in our baskets. (I absolutely loved the jam Jana's mother made with the strawberries we brought home.) And how Jana, Frodo and I went on a picnic, where in the forest Jana found fresh "baerlauch" to pluck, so as to make stew later that week.

There was so much of nature that simply hadn't been forgotten among these big-city folk. I remember thinking then that living a full life was not hard there. That the very breath of the land made life -- true, unadulterated life -- possible. Wherever I went I found myself looking up at things -- rarely at the ground as I'd become accustomed to doing back home. I had time to think, to breath the air, to figure out what it meant to be human without silly ambition driving me aimlessly along. What it meant to be truly part of this Creation. 

Now that I've returned, I felt I've begun to lose the fight I had vowed to win upon my return. I realized the other day that my mornings, afternoons, and nights are constantly in motion, yet with hardly a fraction of the fruit I saw my life bearing while abroad... when, of course, I was learning to sit still on a train as it took me from one wonder to another. In reacquiring life in Louisville, I'm scared to think that I've forgotten how to wonder. How to stand in awe of the life pulsing around me, permitting it to pulse through me. Indeed, there is life here, and I know it can be wonder-filling... If only I could find a moment to take a look. 

If you've been reading this blog long enough, you may remember an A to Z list I compiled before returning: promises to myself I intended to keep upon my return. Well, a little retrospect never hurt anyone, did it?

A. Take my shoes off when I come inside the house. I rarely do this now.
B. Wear slippers in the house. Only now that it's gotten colder do I don a pair.
C. Use cool Austrian words like:  
    "Leiwand" (the coolest word for cool) Not often.
    "Sapalot!" (sort of a soft fun way to say "Dammit!", sort of like our "dangit!" or "dagnabit!") I do use this one.
    "Pfiati" (God protect you in dialect) Unfortunately, no.
    "Ciao" (Not really Austrian but we use it here like it were our own) This one is part of my regular vocab.
    "Servus" (for hello in a humble way) No one would understand...
    "Bist du deppert!?" (an incredulous expression like "You gotta be kidding!" or "Are you nuts!?") No, again. Except with Nim.
D. Walk places. (Not having a car and preferring to use the public trans. anyway, I get the chance to walk just about everywhere here -- to and from the buses & trains, through neighborhoods, through canals, alleyways, forests and fields) Not nearly as often as I'd like. Too busy... but I have been biking! 
E. Buy organic meats and vegetables. I do my best...
F. Eat GOOD bread. (Seriously, we're killing ourselves with the white stuff) It's very hard to find here...
G. Really, truly, and seriously recycle. (As the small country that Austria is, people are simply more aware of the limits of natural resources, so the government has a pretty effective system going, which most observe. It's going to be more difficult working against the grain back home, as the existing system in most places is laughable at best.) I haven't given up the fight, though it's an uphill battle here...
H. Play with 2-year-olds often and on a regular basis. As often as I can... Winston is a blessing.
I. Mix my juice with water. (It's great once you get used to it.) I sometimes break this rule.
J. Greet friends with a kiss. (usually girls but I'm open-minded) This happens at Church!!
K. Hang my clothes to dry. (In other words, don't spew nasty fumes into the air just 'cos I like soft clothes) Impossible here!
L. Use butter, not margarine. I've kept this habit... though at Flabby's, to my chagrin, we do use margarine sometimes. 
M. Sit around in restaurants or cafes longer enjoying the time. (We have a way of rushing off back home. It's that protestant work ethic I guess. Austria tends to be a "sit-around-and-relax" culture.) This is partly why I was so intent on working at Flabby's. It offers such an atmosphere, though it's very rare.
N. Drive the country backroads. (Trying always to save time we lose a great deal.) I make too many excuses...
O. Never use ice. Oh, how greatly I've sinned here...
P. Grow fruit trees and eat from them. (seems like everyone here has their own apricot or apple or plum tree... maybe even their own vineyard) With what land shall I plant trees???
Q. Pay with cash. (Stay out of debt! The hell with plastic!) I try my darndest... Oh those cursed check cards!
R. No fast food and no Wal-Mart. (OK, granted, there's no Wal-Mart here, but the point is I'm not giving my money to them or companies like them) I've stayed true on the Wal-Mart front. I even have had arguments with folks about it. The fast food front has been less successful. Working at Flabby's only helps develop my palate for greasy foods.
S. Don't drink soft drinks save Almdudler (which you can only get in Austria). I do pretty well at this, save for when I'm extremely tired (almost always) and need to rejuvenate at Flabby's via the complimentary Mountain Dew.
T. Eat outside weather permitting. Oh, mea culpa!
U. Make conversation with strangers. (People do this here a lot, and not just the elderly. It's a sign people have at least a basic trust of one another, and find one another interesting enough to shoot the breeze) Yes, this has been happening... not as easily, but Americans are distrustful of shady-looking dudes like me.
V. Climb mountains. (weeps for the absent mountains)
W. Eat GOOD chocolate. Hardly eat any chocolate at all. A snickers now and again...
X. If possible, avoid using the car. (It's amazing how people can function without one. Plus, it sure is nice to save all that gas money) Now, this one I have been ridiculously bad about. How about a weekly trip to Nashville/Bowling Green for band practice? When gas prices were at their zenith, I was shelling out $50+ a week!
Y. Don't use air conditioning. (I've thought about this for a long time. What good are we doing our bodies and the world by using AC? We train our bodies not to sweat, ergo retain whatever toxins we should be sweating out, and the money we pay and the energy we use to keep those machines running really is nuts. Like using ice, what was a luxury fifty years ago is now a necessity, and few are counting the cost) I was hardcore about this. Luckily we had a cool summer. Of course, I could afford to be hardcore about it, since there was a single vent pumping central air into my room throughout the summer, even though I paid not a cent for it. But I refrained from using the window unit.

Z. Be less than dependent on the cell phone. (That isn't to say independent. The cell phone has its use, but people here as well as at home I've found that use has become something much more like an abuse. Plus tests are showing it causes tumors and prostrate. Good thing my friends here are few enough to keep me off the line.) Hm... I don't know what to say about this one... It's a toughy. Lots of long-distance friends...

As you can see, I must pray for fortitude! Christmas is coming along... Perhaps I should ask Santa for fidelity.

Today marks more than just a year without Austria. It begins the Nativity fast for the Orthodox. Or Advent as it's commonly called in the West (though I think Advent doesn't begin for western Christians for another couple weeks). At the end of this season, on Christmas eve, I'll be introduced into the Holy Orthodox faith. I suspect I will be confronted and affronted leading up to that night. I've already felt a shift this week from a smooth procession to a bumpy advance. I should never expect it to be easy. 

The fast leading up to Christ's birth perhaps seems counter-intuitive to anyone used to celebrating the holidays in the US. What usually is a time for enjoying oneself and life in general is narrowed to focus entirely upon what is about to happen to this world. That is, GOD is about to become MAN. This is no ordinary holiday, and hardly paid its due by our customary giving of many, many gifts. The gift of Christ into this world is beyond any gift we could ever imagine, expect, or demand. Before anything else, it demands something of us: that is, our lives. Upon meeting the Christ, celebrating his birth, submitting our selves, we cannot expect to go on living as we typically have all this time before. It is now that we see the light of God according to the measure we have removed the things that blind us to His light. Now, we begin to realize that our goal through fasting, prayer and almsgiving during the Nativity season is to subdue our passions for our fleshly desires in fasting, to fast from our lusts for worldly goods and selfishness through almsgiving, and from our busyness and attachment to our "life by the dayplanner" by increased time with God in prayer. Through these things we can come to the Birth of Christ like the Magi, who spent many days journeying across the desert on a long and hard journey. They voluntarily gave up the daily comforts and security of their homes to lay their gifts at His feet praising God for His great Gift to mankind. We are called to the same journey.

I talked to my mom a little about this tonight. Somehow, although I'm always so capable of presenting the necessity of my journey into Orthodoxy to friends and inquirers, this gift is ever-absent from me when I speak to either of my parents about it. I stumbled over the reasons for the fast, and mom seemed pretty confused as to what I was even talking about. I think she wondered if I wasn't simply punishing myself somehow, not eating meat when it was obviously the easiest thing on the menu...

Yet this fast is designed not to punish us, but to refine. It's by denying oneself that the doors of compassion are opened to the penitent. How can I best love, best serve my brother or sister in need when my stomach is sated and my wallet full? The Nativity Fast focuses on fasting with an emphasis on almsgiving. This anticipates the greatest act of "almsgiving to the undeserving poor" by God who gave His Son for the sake of the salvation of His undeserving creation that rejected Him. St. Basil the Great, whom the Church often looks to for guidance, has said: "If you help a poor person in the name of the Lord, you are making a gift and at the same time granting a loan. You are making a gift because you have no expectation of being reimbursed by that poor person. You are granting a loan because the Lord will settle the account. It is not much that the Lord receives by means of the poor, but He will pay a great deal on their behalf. 'They who are kind to the poor lend to the Lord' [Prov. 19:17]" This Church Father has likewise said: The bread you do not use is the bread of the hungry. The garment hanging in your wardrobe is the garment of the person who is naked. The shoes you do not wear are the shoes of the one who is barefoot. The money you keep locked away is the money of the poor. The acts of charity you do not perform are the injustices you commit.

These are indeed hard sayings. Yet they help demonstrate for me the transformation in me that has yet to take place, and which must continually occur. Come, thou long expected Jesus, come!  

Wisdom from the Second Terrace

I think politics should call, not for hope and belief, but for love and, as an extension, justice. Even though politics has failed often, here it has succeed on a few occasions.The Emancipation Proclamation comes immediately to mind as one of these. The Byzantine Empire is another. The freeing of the serfs another.

For these things, I am usually optimistic in this age.

Particularly in America. Here, I call no politician “Father,” and I am not expected to -- despite the tragically ludicrous spectacle of talk show hosts and heterodox pulpits caterwauling like the prophets of Baal. I don’t believe in politics. I engage in it, but I don’t believe in it: and there is a big difference between those two meanings. I do not worship Caesar, and I am generally pleased that American politics expects me to be critical and well-read. It expects me to learn our history and our civic ways. It expects me to think through fuzzy labels and to reject any world-bound enthusiasm.

To be fair, American politics expects me to love God first, and from that love to love, patriotically, the people and the land.

I call no man Father, because in that trenchant remark, Jesus Christ, Who said that no man is Good, reminded us that there is only One Father to believe in.

So I do. And I will keep calling my dad “Father,” and my bishop “Father” and my priest “Father,” but I do not burden them with belief and hope that they cannot fulfill.

I will respect my new President and the new Congress. I will criticize them more than the humans I call “Father.” They need my criticism, and I can dish it out with zest and meaning only if I do not put my faith in them. I will be their loyal opposition, their intercessor, their encourager and indeed, their prophet. 

I must be, since I am Orthodox you know. Orthodoxy is a constant memory of Paradise: and this world – including government – must be judged according to that fundament and that goal.

We’ve seen it all -- caesarism, tsarism, the caliphate, classical tyrants, demonic tyrants (ironically located in the secular 20th century), democracies (which are really not democracies but republics), and the present commercial-socialist state.

Democracy is nice, but it is not the only thing. We are not used to voting and we really do not understand it yet. But we will vote, and we Orthodox will vote all over the chart. We seek love and justice in different – not contradictory – ways. Orthodox will vote for McCain. Orthodox will vote for Obama. A few will vote for Messrs. Barr, Paul and Nader. Some will abstain.

But we all must partake of a little gentle anarchism, where we reject any notion of secular millenarianism. We must all remember Paradise, and forget about the hackneyed Rapture-theory but remember instead the actual “man of lawlessness,” whom the Lord is restraining through us.

We must all hope for the best, work for justice and peace, and plant a garden, take care of our family and our animals, keep our friends and stay true. We must extend our ties of kindness.

Read it all here.

Good and Evil

I think evil is always small, and that good is infinite. Evil closes itself to God and thus becomes even smaller; Good opens itself to God and thus becomes infinite. Evil cannot become so large as to fill even the universe. God became so small that He could fill Hell and then burst it asunder because it could not contain Him. Every good deed will have eternal remembrance, but even the largest deeds of the evil will be forgotten.
-- Fr. Stephen

Defeating Evil

Well, it's official. Barack Obama will be president. It's pretty amazing, really. Ryan mentioned in a voice mail to me that "something happened that I wanted to happen". Somehow, he thought, the Republicans were going to eke out a dirty win again like they seemed to have done in the past two elections. I admit I had a similar fear, irrational as it may have been. 

I'm glad Obama will be president. Very glad, in fact. In Obama I see someone who is at least willing to think about things and is committed to dialogue, and someone who is intelligent enough to conduct that dialog without preposterous epithets and blanket accusations. No more "coalition of the willing" and "axis of evil" speak. The fact that John McCain could utter the belief that America must "defeat evil" as exemplified in Islamic terrorists to rousing applause really bothered me. How can Islam and its adherents constitute evil in this world to American Christians when St. Paul spoke of our adversaries as spiritual when he said to the Ephesians:  For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. 

Furthermore, the Apostle often referred to our very selves as "the enemy". Our sinful passions, the "flesh", which war within us is what must be defeated, and never the "other", the foreigner who believes differently from us, even if he is willing to point and shoot at us: If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection. For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin— because anyone who has died has been freed from sin.

This notion -- that there is evil in the world which must be confronted and defeated -- strikes me as a very UNchristian belief, unless the locus of that evil is within ourselves. Until we are able to confront the evil that is within us, we are only pointing fingers, reaching for the speck in our brother's eye. 

This is not to say that men and women do not DO evil things in this world. The Muslim extremists who insist on destorying themselves and everyone around them are I believe a true manifestation of evil in this world, and I believe it is important that we act within our means to keep them from trampling upon the helpless. But our actions must never be out of self-righteousness, and in this case, I think I fall much more in line with how Mr. Obama responded to Rick Warren's question regarding evil: ...I think is very important is for us to have some humility in how we approach the issue of confronting evil. You know a lot of evil has been perpetrated based on the claim that we were trying to confront evil… In the name of good and I think one thing that’s very important is having some humility in recognizing that. You know, just because we think our intentions are good doesn’t mean that we’re going to be doing good.

I'm willing to bet that most of the Christians at Rick Warren's convocation were not hardcore fundamentalists, bent on the idea that Barack Obama is the Antichrist. I'm willing to bet most if not all of them were your average, conscientious mainline Protestant. Yet McCain's response to Warren's question on evil was what stirred their hearts so to resounding applause, while Obama's registered not even an audible "Amen". Could it be that what they so heartily approved of was more American than Christian, more Romantic than Redemption? Are we indeed pursuing Christ in our pursuit of the heathen extremist? Is this Christianity?

This or This?

Obama & McCain on Evil

This blows the mind...

Yanked from the NY Times Op-ed Columnist, Nicholas Kristof.

John McCain isn’t boasting about a new endorsement, one of the very, very few he has received from overseas. It came a few days ago:

“Al Qaeda will have to support McCain in the coming election,” read a commentary on a password-protected Islamist Web site that is closely linked to Al Qaeda and often disseminates the group’s propaganda.

The endorsement left the McCain campaign sputtering, and noting helplessly that Hamas appears to prefer Barack Obama. Al Qaeda’s apparent enthusiasm for Mr. McCain is manifestly not reciprocated.

“The transcendent challenge of our time [is] the threat of radical Islamic terrorism,” Senator McCain said in a major foreign policy speech this year, adding, “Any president who does not regard this threat as transcending all others does not deserve to sit in the White House.”

That’s a widespread conservative belief. Mitt Romney compared the threat of militant Islam to that from Nazi Germany or the Soviet Union. Some conservative groups even marked “Islamofascism Awareness Week” earlier this month.

Yet the endorsement of Mr. McCain by a Qaeda-affiliated Web site isn’t a surprise to security specialists. Richard Clarke, the former White House counterterrorism director, and Joseph Nye, the former chairman of the National Intelligence Council, have both suggested that Al Qaeda prefers Mr. McCain and might even try to use terror attacks in the coming days to tip the election to him.

“From their perspective, a continuation of Bush policies is best for recruiting,” said Professor Nye, adding that Mr. McCain is far more likely to continue those policies.

An American president who keeps troops in Iraq indefinitely, fulminates about Islamic terrorism, inclines toward military solutions and antagonizes other nations is an excellent recruiting tool. In contrast, an African-American president with a Muslim grandfather and a penchant for building bridges rather than blowing them up would give Al Qaeda recruiters fits.

Read MORE.