Great Lent

A little over two weeks ago Great Lent began in the Orthodox Church. Last year we celebrated Easter (or Pascha, Greek for Passover) on the same day as Western Christianity but this year we are several weeks later (April 27th), as the day is reckoned differently.

The week prior to Lent I had the opportunity to listen to a lecture by His Eminence, Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, perhaps the most well known Orthodox teacher and scholar in the world today. The lecture took place at St. Demetrios Greek Orthodox Chuch in the Montlake neighborhood of Seattle following Vespers. As far as I know, his lecture on Lent and the meaning of fasting was not recorded, but another recent interview concerning the sacramental life can be listened to here (posted on March 7th), some of which was repeated in the lecture that I attended. If nothing else, the interview is worth listening to since His Eminence sounds as if he is hosting Masterpiece Theater. All kidding aside, the interview is beneficial and well worth listening to, even if one is not Orthodox.


The beginning of Lent is inaugurated by Forgiveness Vespers. As the title of the service suggests, every member of the parish quite literally asks everyone else present at the service, one by one, for forgiveness. All of this takes place simultaneously in a sort of forgiveness conga-line around the perimeter of the nave. As simple and straightforward as the service may sound, I have found it to be one of the most memorable and profound that I have ever attended. As each person humbles themselves before the other, something quite special and unusual (or is it natural?) happens that defies description. While the service certainly has penitential aspects, because of the restoration that ultimately takes place during the 45 minutes or so of the forgiveness-fest, our nave was filled with the sounds of joyful tears. Lent is often described by the Orthodox as a "bright sadness" and Forgiveness Vespers is one such example.

During the first week of Great Lent, the canon of St. Andrew of Crete, which dates to the 7th century, is read in its entirety over 3 separate services (it is also read in its entirety on the Wednesday of the 5th week of Lent). The service is notable for its many troparia (hymns of one stanza each) followed by the refrain, "Have mercy on me O God, have mercy on me" which in turn is followed by a full prostration.

It is clear from reading the Canon of St. Andrew that he took his own sin quite seriously. This is something that I have found to be true of the larger Orthodox Church. It is my understanding that this attitude of repentance for sin is not based primarily on personal guilt or fear of an angry God that seeks to be appeased or levy judgment because He cannot tolerate sin. Quite simply, sin is taken seriously because love is taken seriously. Sin obscures love. Unchecked selfishness trumps self-sacrifice. Sin is not a consequence of original guilt, it is a self-inflicted wound. The inevitable death that results from sin is a natural consequence of our willing choice. God in His mercy does not desire our groveling or self-flagellation. But he does desire that we repent of our sin and instead turn and reorient ourselves to life that he originally intended. Following is an excerpt from Canticle Two of the Lenten Triodion, translated by Metropolitan Ware and Mother Mary:

I am surrounded by the storm of sin O Compassionate Lord. But stretch out Thine hand to me, as Thou has to Peter.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I offer to Thee, O merciful Lord, the tears of the harlot. Take pity on me O Savior, in Thy compassion.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

With the lusts of passion I have darkened the beauty of my soul and turned my mind entirely into dust.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I have torn the first garment that the Creator wove for me in the beginning, and now I lie naked.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I have clothed myself in the torn coat that the serpent wove for me by his counsel, and I am ashamed.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I looked upon the beauty of the tree and my mind was deceived; and now I lie naked and ashamed.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

All the ruling passions have plowed upon my back, making long furrows of wickedness.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I have lost the beauty and glory with which I was first created; and now I lie naked and ashamed.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

Sin has stripped me of the robe that God once wove for me, and it has sowed for me garments of sin.

Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I am clothed with the raiment of shame as with fig leaves, in condemnation of my self-willed passions.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

Saturday Night's Alright for Blogging

Especially when it concerns my beloved Seattle Mariners. The new season opens on the 31st and I will be in attendance at Safeco Field for the opening pitch from Erik Bedard. This past off season was marked by controversy, as the M's traded their mostly highly touted "prospect" and 4 other players for Bedard. The trade threw the highly developed and critical Mariners blogosphere into a cataclysmic tizzy, with the anti-trade camp raving that the M's, being a team that isn't that good and needs to rebuild, gave up far too much for a pitcher with a sketchy health record and only two years guaranteed left on his contract. The pro-trade camp countered that Bedard is the top of the rotation starter that M's have been missing and his presence will close the gap between Seattle and the winners of the division title in 2007, the Los Angeles Angels. Since I am a nerd, I spent far too much time this winter lurking in various blogs following the debate in all of its nauseating detail, of which I will spare you any further punishment. Here's to the new season.

Forgive my cynicism . . .

. . . but this magazine cover has to be one of the most ridiculous things I have seen in quite some time. Undoubtedly, part of the problem is that I openly detest politics. And I'm sure Obama is a great guy and could offer our country a change. Nevertheless, I find this self-righteousness (at least one could interpret this cover shot as such) and naive optimism disgusting/amusing.

My best Bozo days lie ahead.

You know you are going bald when you feel the need to give yourself a haircut every two weeks to hide your ever-thinning hair.

I first became concerned about my hair loss about six years ago when I noticed a small little bald patch just behind my hairline. At this point I was very much in the stage of denial. I rationalized that I had cut my hair a little shorter than normal. Or perhaps the guard of the razor had come loose as I cut that portion of my hair. How else could there be such a little patch with a little less hair on it? What an odd place for such a patch!

My next phase was anger. After my intial reaction of denial, I noticed small pieces of hair in my hands after I washed them. When I woke up I saw tiny little hair folicles left behind on my pillow. At this stage of my life I was trying to hold on to any dignity that I could get. I burned with anger that my hairline was literally slipping through my fingers.

Today I am ready to concede that I am losing my hair. I have processed the residual denial and anger from my own personal hairline journey and I have accepted that I am a 30 year old balding man. I refuse to live in a fantasy world that denies this simple fact. I have seen pictures that dispel any notion I would have of an alternate reality. Avoidance of this reality would be nothing short of a foundational conflict in my being.

I am resolute in my acceptence. I am finally ready to grow up.

I have nothing to fear knowing that my best Bozo days lie ahead.

"Beauty Will Save the World"

It is through the virtue of humility that we attain spiritual gifts. Humility is the acknowledgment that God has saved us, forgiven us and desires that we should do the same. God does not force us to do so, we must be willing. If we are not willing to be humble, the world will humiliate us. The humble person cannot be humiliated, for humiliation is nothing but a blow to our pride. The one who has no pride escapes such suffering. Your Father in Christ, + Bishop JOSEPH

I read the quote above earlier today and it reminded me of the discussion that a few of my friends and I have been having on the blog under this post 'growing innocence' in regards to humility.

Let me be clear that I am not writing from the perspective of an expert in regards to humility. In fact, it seems to tear against some of the very foundational elements of my being. Still, even in my limited life experience, there is also a deep part of me which is drawn to be a learner of this virtue.

This subject has been on my mind quite a bit lately, in part because I recently (finally) finished The Idiot (once I got back on the 26 -- sorry, inside joke). Long story short: the novel centers upon the events surrounding the main character, Prince Myshkin, and his collision with Russian upper-class society.

The novel was a difficult read. I literally had to force myself through several passages. Dostoevsky himself considered the novel something of an artistic failure. Nevertheless, his concept behind the story was high,

"For a long time now I've been tormented by a certain idea, but I've been afraid

to make a novel out of it, because the thought is too difficult and I'm not

ready for it, though it's a thoroughly tempting thought and I love it. The idea
is - to portray a perfectly beautiful man. Nothing, in my opinion, can be more

difficult than that, especially in our time" (Dostoevsky, quoted in the

introduction to The Idiot, translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa
Volokhonsky).

Prince Myshkin himself asserts in the novel that "beauty will save the world." The Prince is not making an egotistical statement. Rather, he has a radical humility that seems to border on naivety: the Prince seems incapable of seeing obvious flaws in others (indeed, he sees God in each person) and repeatedly apologizes for his own behavior, even when it is clear he is not to be blamed or faulted. From the perspective of the reader this attitude seems at best simplistic, and at worst, just plain stupid in a society that conspires against him.

I have wondered, is humility supposed to "make sense" to us? In what way should it "make sense?" Humility, isolated in a temporal and external perspective, might look like foolishness to some, as it did to Prince Myshkin's contemporaries in mid 19th-century Russia.

In discussing the subject of humility with different friends, they have made welcome clarifications between humility and false humility in certain circumstances. Still, I wonder how the unseen reality of eternity might factor into this discussion? If nothing else, it gives us pause to consider that our temporal existence may not be an end in and of itself. Ultimately, I believe humility breaks through the plane of our temporal existence (not worthless or without value, but finite and limited nonetheless) with an infusion of eternity. This is an abstract concept that is difficult to objectify.

Perhaps an answer of sorts can be found in another of Dostoevsky's novels, The Brothers Karamavov, and artist Fritz Eichenberg, whose engravings I have admired for their visceral embodiment of melancholic emotion. One of the engravings that I am most drawn to is Eichenberg's depiction of the famous scene in The Brothers Karamazov, "The Grand Inquisitor." In the scene, Christ reappears on earth during the time of the Spanish Inquisition. He is arrested, sentenced to death and brought before the Grand Inquisitor for questioning. The Grand Inquisitor's argument against Christ is long, detailed and quite convincing.

Both the argument postulated by the Inquisitor and the specific outcome of this story is quite profound but it does not concern the subject of this posting (you can read it yourself if you haven't already). Suffice it to say that perhaps the Inquisitor succeeds in building an effective argument against Christ. However, at what cost? At the end of the story he is left alone with his bitterness and despair, willingly shut-off from the comfort of Christ's presence.

Perhaps this is a gross oversimplification, but I wonder if there is parallel that can be drawn between my own lack of humility, no matter how justified it may seem, and that of Dostoevsky's Inquisitor? I wonder if in the trusting humility of Prince Myshkin, he looks to eternity and finds the abiding presence of Christ, sharing with him in his sufferings?

The life led by Prince Myshkin may be better understood in light of the Grand Inquisitor. Perhaps we live our lives traveling somewhere between these two polar opposites found in literature, never fully acheiving the beautified perfection that Dostoevsky sought to depict in Prince Myshkin or becoming fully enveloped in the isolated bitterness of the Grand Inquisitor.

Of course, humility is not a guarantee that I will avoid suffering. Neither is it a guarantee that I will always feel God's presence. At times He may feel absent or even silent. Still, I feel the longing and desire to pray that the wisdom of eternity may be found in my heart.

Top 07 of 07

For a few years now I have made a practice of listing my favorite records of the past year. The list is ridiculously limited as it represents the majority of the new music that I have bought in the past year as well as being disturbingly indulgent of my wannabe rock critic/musician altar ego. What the world needs now is not another play list. If that introduction does not dissuade you from reading further (it has almost caused me to stop writing), I'm not sure what will. So, without further ado I present the Top 07 of 07 in no particular order.

Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
This album presents some really accessible and catchy rock n' roll without sacrificing the more abstract/experimental tunes the band is becoming increasingly known for. I'm not sure how "The Underdog" did in radio airplay, but it should have been a hit. And it was on the play list of the reception of my wedding, which surely counts for something.






Panda Bear, Person Pitch
I recently heard a quote in which a famous actor said of different directors, "the good ones borrow but the great ones steal." If that statement is true than Panda Bear is a genius. It would probably take a genius to make an homage to or emulate Brian Wilson all by oneself and Noah Lennox of Animal Collective pulls it off on Person Pitch. "Comfy in Nautica" and "Bros" are the standout tracks. Come to think of it, album closer "Ponytail" was also on the reception play list.




The White Stripes, Icky Thump

In what has been described as a return to the basics, Jack and Meg turn the collective amp back up to 11. "Rag and Bone" is a great tune and "A Martyr for my Love for You" is the song Soren Kierkegaard never got to sing. No, "St. Andrew (The Battle is in the Air)" was not on the reception play list.






James Blackshaw, The Cloud of Unknowing
An album of instrumental acoustic guitar music named after a classic book on Christian mysticism in the 14 century by an anonymous English monk. The contemplative music builds through slow repetition until the slightest change in chord structure carries maximum impact. I guess it's similar to techno in that way only with an acoustic 12-string guitar.






Arcade Fire, Neon Bible
I must admit, the more I listen to this album the more I dislike it. Maybe it's because of the cynical and idiotic things that Win Butler keeps saying. Maybe it's because of the underlying paranoia in the music. Whatever the reason, what I do enjoy about Neon Bible is that it is the sound of a band that is not afraid of or opposed to making a statement through big tunes, and even amongst the cynicism and paranoia, I can respect that.





The National, Boxer
The National write introspective mellow tunes that are deceptively anthemic. Because of Matt Beringer's deep baritone, Leonard Cohen comparisons are apt, but the musical influence here is much more 80s New Wave than kitsch Euro-pop. Matt Beringer also sings like a man who has his mouth full and is wary of opening his mouth too far for the fear of spraying food everywhere.





Radiohead, In Rainbows
Two things stand out to me about this album, a) Radiohead sounds like a band again, and b) Thom Yorke has a beautiful and otherworldly voice. "Reckoner" is one of the best songs this band has ever written. Simple guitar and piano hooks, a tight rhythm section and a falsetto sung in a way that only Yorke can sing it. As I said in another blog advising potential crooner's: don't attempt to sing/sound like this band, because you can't.





My apologies for the wacky formatting.

growing innocence

We all experience difficulty in life. While much of it is self-inflicted pain caused by our own selfishness, we also all experience pain that is caused by circumstances that are beyond are control.

When I named this blog "growing innocence" a year a go, I wanted to try to encapsulate in that title an attribute that I found in people that I admire. These are people who, when faced with difficult circumstances, have not responded with an increase in vengeance or anger, but an increase in humility and love. They have undoubtedly made their share of mistakes and taken their own lumps in life, but have emerged from their own difficult road with a purity of heart when anger or resentment could have seemed a valid response. As a result, they seem more full of love and life then ever before. They seem to"grow innocence" rather than "grow bitterness."

When I respond in anger to a perceived wrong against me, this anger often seems right and even justified in the moment. Hey, if I don't defend myself here, who else will, right? However, this attitude, acted upon and carried out over and over through our lives filled with their share of pain, often leads not to increased personal validation, but increased isolation, bitterness and resentment. In defending myself or fighting for my own perceived rights I am aware only of my pain in the midst of my hardship and as a result, I lose hope. I damage my true personhood.

What then, is my true personhood? I believe that responding to hardship by an increase in humility and love contains part of the answer. In the moment of pain these attributes seem anything but natural or logical to me. But what of the purity of heart that results from these attributes, acted out over and over in a life overwhelmed at times by pain? It is a true purity. Natural. Logical. And from watching those I admire it is clear to me that in love and humility we embrace our true personhood enveloped in the Person of Christ.

Two different couples have set a wonderful example to me of "growing innocence." My godparents at St. Paul Orthodox Church, Bob and Mary Armstrong and my Aunt and Uncle, Donna and Lloyd Slusser from Pullman, Washington. In their lives I have witnessed a deep reality of love and self-sacrifice and I am thankful and blessed to have them as a part of my life.