Jim Wallis / James Dobson

I was actually quite disturbed by the letter from Dobson. I have to say, it was very much the same rhetoric that I heard him speak before the 2004 election when he came to Raleigh and I won tickets to hear him. And, for a bit of back story, that was also the election when a man in the church I was attending attacked me verbally and publically for daring to say that I hadn't yet decided for whom I'd vote that year. That was a horrible Sunday, when no one in the Sunday School class could defend my right to thoughtfully consider my vote, and my only recourse from that attack was to leave. Four years later, and I'm still shocked that I could have been in that situation in a place that should be safe from that sort of attack--in a church.

So, back to Dobsson's letter. He just confirmed for me that he is a fear-monger who has a very limited view of what it means to be a believer in this world. It's his way or nothing. Dobson's political communications aren't that different from the hellfire and damnation sermons I grew up on--the ones where the preacher says that if you can't see reason and get saved just because he thinks you should, then at least get saved to avoid hell. And of course, that also reminds me of how he tells people to parent their children--as if they are dogs to be beaten into submission. All in all, my respect for Dobson is tenuous, at best, but at least I can say it's stronger than the respect that man in Sunday School showed me four years ago.

And that is why I'm adding this letter from Jim Wallis (a name I do not know, so don't take this as an endorsement) to my political musings here. In demanding an apology from Dobson, he's also offering a defense—an apologetic, if you will—for Christians who believe we are doing the best we can to vote differently than Dobson would like us to.

One final thought. When I voted today for Obama, I voted out of hope, not out of fear. If my hope is not realized, my faith will hold me. However, I do not trust that same resolve had I voted out of fear.

Come now, let us reason together.

James Dobson’s ‘Letter From 2012 in Obama’s America’

by Jim Wallis 10-29-2008

James Dobson, you owe America an apology. The fictional letter released through your Focus on the Family Action organization, titled “Letter From 2012 in Obama’s America”, crosses all lines of decent public discourse. In a time of utter political incivility, it shows the kind of negative Christian leadership that has become so embarrassing to so many of your fellow Christians in America. We are weary of this kind of Christian leadership, and that is why so many are forsaking the Religious Right in this election.

This letter offers nothing but fear. It apocalyptically depicts terrorist attacks in American cities, churches losing their tax exempt status for not allowing gay marriages, pornography pushed in front of our children, doctors and nurses forced to perform abortions, euthanasia as commonplace, inner-city crime gone wild because of lack of gun ownership, home schooling banned, restricted religious speech, liberal censorship shutting down conservative talk shows, Christian publishers forced out of business, Israel nuked, power blackouts because of environmental restrictions, brave Christian resisters jailed by a liberal Supreme court, and finally, good Christian families emigrating to Australia and New Zealand.

It is shocking how thoroughly biblical teachings against slander—misrepresentations that damage another’s reputation—are ignored (Ephesians 4:29-31, Colossians 3:8, Titus 3:2). Such outrageous predictions not only damage your credibility, they slander Barack Obama who, you should remember, is a brother in Christ, and they insult any Christian who might choose to vote for him.

Let me make this clear: Christians will be voting both ways in this election, informed by their good faith, and based on their views of what are the best public policies and direction for America. But in utter disrespect for the prayerful discernment of your fellow Christians, this letter stirs their ugliest fears, appealing to their worst impulses instead of their best.

Fear is the clear motivator in the letter; especially fear that evangelical Christians might vote for Barack Obama. The letter was very revealing when it suggested that “younger Evangelicals” became the “swing vote” that elected Obama and the results were catastrophic.

You make a mistake when you assume that younger Christians don’t care as much as you about the sanctity of life. They do care—very much—but they have a more consistent ethic of life. Both broader and deeper, it is inclusive of abortion, but also of the many other assaults on human life and dignity. For the new generation, poverty, hunger, and disease are also life issues; creation care is a life issue; genocide, torture, the death penalty, and human rights are life issues; war is a life issue. What happens to poor children after they are born is also a life issue.

The America you helped vote into power has lost its moral standing in the world, and even here at home. The America you told Christians to vote for in past elections is now an embarrassment to Christians around the globe, and to the children of your generation of evangelicals. And the vision of America that you still tell Christians to vote for is not the one that many in a new generation of Christians believes expresses their best values and convictions.

Christians should be committed to the kingdom of God, not the kingdom of America, and the church is to live an alternative existence of love and justice, offering a prophetic witness to politics. Elections are full of imperfect choices where we all seek to what is best for the “common good” by applying the values of our faith as best we can.

Dr. Dobson, you of course have the same right as every Christian and every American to vote your own convictions on the issues you most care about, but you have chosen to insult the convictions of millions of other Christians, whose own deeply held faith convictions might motivate them to vote differently than you. This epistle of fear is perhaps the dying gasp of a discredited heterodoxy of conservative religion and conservative politics. But out of that death, a resurrection of biblical politics more faithful to the whole gospel—one that is truly good news—might indeed be coming to life.

http://www.sojo.net/blog/godspolitics/?p=3283

Trippin'

I'm leaving tomorrow morning to go see my godson, by way of a conference on Hispanic Achievement put on by the North Carolina Society of Hispanic Professionals. I was invited to speak about my experiences in helping to get a SIOP program running at out high school. I'll also enjoy some sight-seeing, which is to say, I'm going to be able to visit some of my favorite friends--a rare treat indeed.

None of this is to say that you'll miss me much. First of all, I rarely post here, so if you'd miss me at all, it'd be at another venue. And secondly, my hostess for the weekend is none other than super-Internet-woman herself! I'm sure she'll share her laptop long enough for me to drop in my favorite haunts.

But, please feel free to rejoice with me that I'll be taking my godson to communion (he hardly needs "help" getting to the chalice!) and visiting with some of the best people I know.

Horray!

Register and Vote!

The voter registration deadline in North Carolina is this Friday, October 10th.

Are you registered? Are your friends and family?

If you only forward one email to your friends, family, and neighbors today -- make it this one.


Visit VoteForChange.com, our one-stop voter registration website, and register before the North Carolina deadline.

This election is too important to leave anything to chance. Make sure your voice is heard -- and forward this email to all the North Carolinians you know.

Thanks!

P.S. -- If you don't register to vote by October 10th, don't forget that one-stop early voting begins on Thursday, October 16th. Make sure your voice, and the voices of your friends and family, are heard.

First Grade

Wow! It's amazing what a trip to the classroom can do!

I took the entire day off today. I found coverage for my own classes and I paid a sub $50 for an entire day, even though the sub only really worked with one class. And I went to Mara's school for the whole day.

Mara sang, "You're going to be a first grader!" over and over and over again, on the way in the door. I think she was pretty excited, though.

I took extensive notes, updating on the classroom status and Mara's attention/productivity every few minutes. Overall, what I noted was that the teachers were really great at making transitions from one part of class to the next. There was floor time, seat work, floor time in front of the Smart Board, and reading groups. There was also time for teachers to work with students one-on-one. It's definitely a teacher-led class, and it's obviously curriculum driven ("No, I'm not going to show anymore cursive, since that's what you'll learn in 2nd grade."), but Mara did not seem like she was suffering or falling behind. Any time she had the chance to read, she seemed to enjoy reading, which is important to me. And I know she's doing fine on the math, even if I think manipulatives would be a much better way to teach math than worksheets.

On the way out the door, I spoke with another parent who is a big player in the educational system, and he said that this teacher has a reputation of being really good with the kids and really bad with the parents. Well, now I believe it.

I didn't even leave to go look at another class. I no longer think it's even worth considering a class change. I no longer want to pull the principal into it. I (whew!) no longer have to consider pulling her out of school and jumping through hoops to homeschool and work full time.

When I get a chance to type up my notes, I'll might post them, or at least some more thoughts on them. But for now, it's sufficient to finally feel at ease with Mara's teacher this year.

Pilgrimage to the Monastery of the Transfiguration

I took a trip to Monastery of the Transfiguration in Ellwood City, PA, met up with some of the women who have been most influential on my journey to Orthodoxy, and prayed with the sisters at the monastery.

Here are some pictures of the trip up, the grounds, and the icons there.

Pilgrimage Pictures, September 2008

When I get the other participants' pictures added to my album, I'll update.

Beth and I drove up together, and met Emily and Pres. Lisa there. We arrived just a few seconds before Emily, which was great timing! Pres. Lisa joined us on Saturday.

Friday night, we attended the vespers service, during which they sing an akathist and focus prayers for young people. I added Mara, Emma, and Jake to the list. We also were able to participate in praying for actual names listed. If you could see the huge stack of names they had to pray for every Friday night, you'd wonder how they get it done. The burden, responsibility, and joy of praying for the world is just one of the amazing things Orthodox monastics undertake. Another is hospitality, and we really felt welcomed and at home at the monastery. We were comfortable and well-fed, and our interactions with the sisters were so sweet. Oh, we also stayed in the house that was Mother Alexandra's house for the last two years of her life.

Saturday, we all slept in, missing the morning prayer services. But later on that day, we had a chance to share our journeys and lives with Mother B. We also had plenty of time to roam the grounds, take pictures, and absorb the prayerful surroundings. That night, there was another vespers/vigil service. It was very long!

Sunday morning, we went to matins and Divine Liturgy, which Father Thomas Hopko served. He gave a very inspiring sermon, and we had a chance to speak with him later on at the generous coffee hour. One of the most meaningful experiences for me that weekend was being able to take communion with these women who have joined with me and helped me on my journey towards Orthodoxy. It's one thing to know that all Orthodox Christians participate in the same Divine Liturgy and the same Mystical Supper, and another thing to be in the same chapel at the same time. I was in tears quite often over the weekend. As Mother B. put it, most pilgrims comes to weep and to pray, but mostly to weep.

That afternoon, we spoke with Mother C. and she told us about her journey to becoming a nun at the monastery. She said she asked herself at age 40, "What have you done for Christ," and when she evaluated her life and decided she hadn't done much, she began to look for ways to start doing more. She found this monastery, founded by Princess Ileana of Romania, and when she first stepped on the grounds, she knew she was home. She also told another story that illustrated for her personally--and for us vicariously--just why petty arguments and disagreements don't matter. Her humility is an inspiration, and I know I fall short of her example. She also read for us the story of St. Euphrosynos, a saint I have long admired. He reminds me so much of Cade. Later that evening, we had the vespers for the feast day of the Nativity of the Mother of God, which was really beautiful.

Monday morning, Emily left for her 12 hour journey home. Beth, Pres. Lisa, and I drove an hour to another monastery, Nativity of the Theotokos, where we celebrated their feast day with them. One of the sisters there, a friend of Pres. Lisa, showed us around the grounds and spent a long time talking with us. After that, Beth and I had the rest of the day to drive home and enjoy our time together.

The entire trip was lovely, and now our online community is planning other upcoming pilgrimages together. I can't wait!

First day of first grade

Mara rode the bus to my school for the first time ever today. It was a scary time for me, but she seemed to handle it just fine.

It turns out that one of the "friends" (daughter of another teacher at my school) will be attending a different magnet school. That leaves just three of "our kids" to ride the bus together. We originally had six.

I asked Mara if she was scared on the bus. She said, "Well, I was really worried that I'd get on the wrong bus. Then, I saw the number and I got on it anyway, but I was scared that maybe it was the wrong bus." But, she also said she felt better because one other kid from her class and another, younger friend were on the bus with her. Yeah, I said, they're all kids of people I work with! "Oh."

The bus was much later than we expected, and there was a hold up in the high school bus lot, on a humid day, and then it started to drizzle. Terrible conditions! But the kiddos disembarked without much notice of the buzzing tensions amongst the high schoolers. I hope the bus schedules start to run more smoothly, as they generally tend to do after the first few days. If not, though, we have a back up plan: One of the parents will go pick up the three kids and bring them back to our campus.

Mara says she had a good day. It's a bit sad to us that she doesn't have any friends from her kindergarten class in her new class, but I think for sure she'll make new friends soon. And her other good friends from last year have recess with her, at least. I asked her about the people at her table, and she said, "Well, these two boys were yammering. Wait. What does yammering mean?" I said, "Talk, talk, talk." She said, "Yeah, they were yammering and I just couldn't concentrate!"

Too funny!

Kayaking with Mara

(not me or my kid)

I was able to take Mara kayaking on a very mild river, thanks to a friend from work. It's the kind of thing I would never do alone and also the kind of thing that Cade doesn't really enjoy. (Ask him, sometime, to tell you the story of our canoe trip in Florida. The best part about it, according to him, is the name of the river--Withlacoochee!)

This trip was a 6 mile ride, and I'm now convinced that kayaks are much easier to navigate than canoes. Even though the river was very low, we sailed over some areas a canoe never would have conquered. Of course, the river was low enough that even the kayaks needed a push or a pull now and then.

I took a camera for Mara to use, but she was too scared at the beginning, and once we put it away, we never got it back out again. It's too bad, because there were some really pretty passes, especially the ones where the rock cliff hangs out over the water and the sun reflects off the water onto the rock surface. Next time I go (which I hope will be soon), I plan to take a disposable waterproof camera I can hang around my neck for quick access.

The trip reminded me of how much I enjoy activities like that. It's the kind of thing I think I would have been doing all along, if only I had someone to do it with. I thought about all the canoeing and white water rafting I've done in the past and mulled over some fond memories of camping along the French Broad River and at Rand Pond. I daydreamed about taking Mara out again, developing her love of nature and deepening her respect for its beauty, all the while showing her that she's a capable person. (I also daydreamed about going again without her, and soaking up the river and its journey for myself!) I hope for the chance to go out again soon, before it gets too chilly to be on the water.

My arms and back are stiff and sore, but there's something satisfying about that pain. Our river guide says that kayaking is one of the least strenuous exercises in terms of burning calories, but I surely feel that I got a work out. It just goes to show that there are indeed certain things that I will gladly wake up early to be able to do.

(not me or my kid)

In the end, Mara had a wonderful time, and coming down the last little ripple, I heard her laugh her deep belly laugh and knew that it had been a grand adventure.

Pictures of Mara's Birthday Party

Mara's Groovy Party

You can see pics of Mara's party here.

We started with my sister helping to get the girls "groovy," with a bit of nail polish, lip gloss, glitter spray, smell goods, and hair clips.

Then, the kids got to play in the living room with all Mara's Groovy Girls and accessories. Only one other kid had GG's, and it was my niece and the GG's we had gifted her.

After that, we made candy jewelry, which didn't work out very well, but which was fun anyway.

Finally, we spent time coloring in wooden cutouts of GGs (not brand name, though) and trains.

Then, cake and presents. It was a 3 hour party. I really didn't anticipate it taking so long.

Oh, and our menu centered around a tropical smoothie sporting dainty umbrellas and fun, curvy straws. We also served up PB&J and turkey/cheese sandwiches cut out in the shapes of hearts, flowers, and butterflies. There were grapes and other salty snacks.

Many Years, Mara! Happy Name Day!

I took Mara to DL today for her name day. I thought we were about 40 minutes late, but as it turns out, we were there for the first sets of "Agios." We did pretty good!

I thought the parking lot was unusually full for a weekday DL, but once we were inside, I saw why. The Metropolitan Alexios was there celebrating the liturgy with our two priests and one retired priest in our community. It was a truly beautiful liturgy.

Mara did as well as she could. Honestly. I made her fast this morning, which probably wasn't my best idea, but I thought, "Hey, she's almost 6! It's time!" I also thought it would be a short liturgy and that we would have missed some of it.

A yia-yia behind us offered Mara some candy, but when I said she was going for communion, she told Mara to hold it until after communion. Mara did well, and it helped her to stop whining about being hungry when she had food in her hands--even if a little piece of candy. But you should have seen her wolf down her blessed bread! I split mine in half and gave her most of mine, as well. Then, thank God! Another yia-yia, one of my favorites, came and took Mara by the hand and let her eat goodies from coffee hour (Coffee Hour? On a weekday liturgy?) during the Artoklasia (blessing of the loaves). She was a very happy girl! I love taking Mara to church on her name day. It just seems like a way to make it a special day for her.

Here's the Metropolitan:




The Great Entrance:


Mara, trying to play quietly in the pews:


Mara's name day communion, Fr. Dennis:


Metropolitan giving communion:


Artoklasia:




Mara, a much happier girl after eating something:


What a special picture with the Metopolitan!

Mom's Birthday

Today is my mom's 60th birthday.




Happy Birthday, Mom!

May God grant you many happy years!

Dormition of the Theotkos

Xronia Polla, Mara!

May God grant you many years!

On August 15, the Orthodox Church (new calendar) commemorates the Dormition (falling asleep) of the Most Holy Mother of God. The feast is considered to be one of the 12 Great Feasts of the year and thus an integral part of the proclamation of gospel of Jesus Christ.

Many who are not familiar with Orthodoxy, or its manner of understanding saints, easily see feast days and the veneration of saints as distractions from the gospel. The thought is: “If it’s not about Jesus, then somehow the gospel is not being preached.”

I am willing to grant the point - but to quickly add that the veneration of the Mother of God is inherently about Jesus and that without paying proper attention to Mary, Christ is being short-changed and not fully understood.

In the history of the Church the first dogmatic proclamation concerning Mary was the use of the title, Theotokos, meaning “the one who gave birth to God.” Nestorius, for whom the heresy of Nestorianism is named, objected to the use of the term saying that she should be called Christotokos instead. This would mean that she was the mother of Christ, but not properly called Mother of God. The Church condemned Nestorius’ teaching and affirmed the use of this title for Mary, for Christ is not properly divided into a schizophrenic being (God and Man but not united), but is instead but one Person, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity. Eventually the Church would declare that He was one Person with two natures (Divine and Human) but never sought to contemplate Him in a manner that divided His person.

Thus the title given to Mary was and is about Jesus and was solemnly defined in order to protect the proper understanding of His incarnation.

The Scriptures themselves bear ample witness to her unique position. “All generations will call me blessed,” are words spoken by Mary in her dialog with her cousin, Elizabeth (mother of John the Baptist). To refuse this honor to Mary is to violate the clear word of Scripture.

At the Wedding at Cana, where St. John records Christ worked his first miracle, we have a story of an encounter between Christ and His mother. For what reason we do not know, the problem of the wine shortage is brought to Mary. She takes the problem to Christ who responds: “What is this to me and you, woman? My hour has not yet come.”

Idiomatically the statement means, “What concern is that of ours?” Addressing her as “woman” is not derogatory as some claim (why would Jesus fail to honor his mother in violation of the law?). Her response to His statement is interesting. She turns to the servants and tells them to “do whatever He tells you.” At her intercession Christ works His first miracle. Argue with it if you will, but on the plain face of the story that is what happens. Why does St. John record the story? It is certainly a story that points towards the great wedding feast at the end of the age, but Mary plays a central role.

This same role is played throughout Scripture in the lives of the righteous. They intercede before God for others and God hears them. Abraham interceded for Sodom and Gomorrah; Moses interceded many times for Israel and God heard him; the stories of these righteous men and women can be multiplied many times over (Read Hebrews 11).

This same communion of saints has continued through the ages adding to its list those who have followed Christ and in union with Him offered intercession for the world. Those who have known the communion of the saints and their fervent prayer before God on our behalf have known something of the fullness of the Church. For it is they (and us) whom St. Paul has in mind when he says that the Old Testament saints awaited a promise which is now ours, that, together with them, we are made complete (Hebrews 11:40). That promise, of course, is Christ, born of the Holy Spirit and the Most Holy Virgin Mary who is blessed through the ages.

Eternal life is to know God, and Jesus Christ Whom He has sent (John 17:3). But the Christ we are called to know is to be known in His fullness. That fullness includes His incarnation and the communion of saints He established when He united Himself to our flesh in the Virgin.

Glory to God for All Things

Apolytikion in the First Tone

In birth, you preserved your virginity; in death, you did not abandon the world, O Theotokos. As mother of life, you departed to the source of life, delivering our souls from death by your intercessions.

Kontakion in the Second Tone

Neither the grave nor death could contain the Theotokos, the unshakable hope, ever vigilant in intercession and protection. As Mother of life, He who dwelt in the ever-virginal womb transposed her to life.

Important Letter to Barack Obama

Please read and consider signing this letter about the state of education addressed to Barack Obama.

http://www.avwebnet.com/EducationReformLetter.asp

I signed it.

I contributed! You can, too!

My Orthodox Testimony

I was raised in an Assemblies of God (Evangelical Pentecostal) church and family. I was very aware of differing opinions on certain topics, and that many people on both sides loved God, read their Bibles, and still came to different final conclusions.

• Pre-/Mid-/Post-Tribulation Rapture
• Once Saved Always Saved vs. being able to backslide
• Speaking in Tongues vs. Gifts of the Spirit are dead

I went to an A/G college to become a missionary, but changed my major after taking most of my theology and missions classes. I feel that I have a pretty good grasp of what the A/G believes and teaches its up and coming new preachers, missionaries, evangelists, and such. Basically, I realized I don't agree with the Assemblies of God on two of their major distinctives: I don't believe that anyone can know whether there will be a pre- or post-tribulation rapture, but the A/G requires pastors and missionaries and such to say they believe in and teach about a pre-trib rapture. I also don't believe that the only visible sign that someone has been filled/baptized with the Holy Spirit is speaking in tongues. It is one gift of the Holy Spirit, and evidence of any gifts in a person's life indicates to me that they have the Holy Spirit. Again, however, in the A/G people are told they do not have a baptism of the HS if they haven't spoken in tongues. I disagree with that undue pressure on people to perform in a certain way in order to reach the "higher level" of their faith that's touted before them as what everyone should reach. :(

We stayed in an A/G church, however, because we were pregnant and then raising our daughter, and we didn't know where else to go. So for about 3 years or so, we were in church, but not terribly comfortable, even though I can honestly say that we tried to fit in and do what was being taught at our church.

I found out about the Eastern Orthodox Church through ladies who were at one time on a message board for Christian mothers who wanted to parent gently. In talking about grace shown to our kids and how that was influenced by the theological leanings of our churches, I was amazed at what the Orthodox ladies were saying about grace in their churches. I was also very impressed with the humility I was in those ladies, who would often ask for forgiveness *just in case* someone was offended. There was more, but I think it's hard for me to put into words--just that their overall presentation of themselves was with deep humility.

I started asking questions, but then there was the "Great Crash." For whatever reason, a lot of the Orthodox (and Catholic?) mamas were asked to leave or at the very least made to feel so uncomfortable that they left, feeling driven out. Then the whole board crashed and had to be rebuilt. When it came back, I couldn't find those ladies, and I had to figure out a way to contact them. I searched blogs and started sending e-mails and people started responding to me. Eventually, after many conversations, one of the ladies helped me find the church close to me, and I went and visited.

Around this time, my family was going through the crisis of my father's Alzheimer's diagnosis....

More than ever before, I felt the need to have a ruler or guide for figuring out just what the Bible says. There's no way that the Bible really says one thing to one person and a completely opposite thing to another person, or if it does, then it's not what I ever thought it was. How are we supposed to read the Bible and find out for ourselves what it means, when we're fallible human beings and we all mess up?

As I was investigating the Eastern Orthodox Church and the doctrines that seemed "out there" based on my upbringing, I started to find what I was looking for. I found that ruler.

Because the EOC is 2000 years old, goes back to the original Apostles, and has an unbroken line traceable back to the Apostles (my priest was ordained by a priest who was ordained by a priest who was ordained by a priest....who was ordained by one of the original Twelve), there is more than just what someone teaches is doctrine. There a continuity in consensus of faith. The EOC doesn't teach new things--it only teaches what the Church has always believed. It's comforting for me to know that the Early Church believed something, because then I can believe it, too. Also, I found out that the Church predates the Bible as we know it. That made a big difference in how I understand Scripture. Being released from Sola Scriptura, which includes by default that I have to read and figure it out for myself or trust my preacher or teacher who has done the reading and the figuring out, made all the difference. That doesn't mean that I'm not still supposed to read my own Bible, but it does mean that when I do, I'm not supposed to be looking for some new interpretation of it. I don't have to figure it out for myself, and it shouldn't say anything to me that it didn't already say to the Early Church. (Something I just read recently that explains the process of canonization can be found here: The Three Old Testaments.)

I continued to research Orthodox theology and doctrine, and at first I was comparing everything to the A/G statement of faith to see where it differed. I knew that I found Christ in the A/G, so it was a good place for me to start. But eventually, I started going to the Nicene Creed, because that’s a summary of what the Early Church believed and what the Eastern Orthodox Church of today still believes…has always believed. When I realized that I had made the switch from using the A/G statement of faith as the measuring stick to using the EOC Nicene Creed as the measuring stick, I realized that I was ready. I still had some issues, but I was at the point to where I could discuss those with my priest or with my Orthodox friends and figure them out.

I fought against converting pretty hard, just because of all the negative sentiment from family and church growing up, all the anti-Catholic stuff that I knew would be the same for the EOC, if only anyone knew it existed. I wanted to find the secret doctrine that would allow me to discount the whole thing. Finally, I talked with one friend about it, and he reminded me that the EOC doesn’t have secret doctrines. Everything is summed up in the Nicene Creed, which is still held on to by other Protestant churches as a symbol of faith, and which is not secret. Moder authors publish, the original works by the Early Church Fathers (theologians who fought for fundamental doctrines like the Trinity and the Dual Nature of Christ) are reprinted regularly, and there are blogs and websites and Q/A sites for people to ask questions and receive answers. Just because the EOC isn’t out knocking on doors trying to convert people doesn’t mean they’re not open to anyone who wants to find out more.

Finally, I felt that I had reached the end of my search. I might not have a grasp of everything that the EOC teaches, but I did trust that the Church has been guided and protected by the Holy Spirit. I trust that the consensus of faith won’t lead me into dangerous false gospels, but rather, will keep me in the center of truth. The last step was figuring out whether my husband agreed. His journey was different than mine, and it’s also not mine to tell, but the summary is that he also found peace in the Orthodox Church, and so our little family all converted together, our daughter being baptized and my husband and I being chrismated (because we’d already been baptized). You can find out about that process by going to Tamara's Camera, and in the top right corner, clicking on “Chrismation/Baptism.” The fact that we were in unity on the decision to join the Orthodox Church meant so much towards confirming my conviction.

I have never been more sure of anything regarding my faith than I am that the Eastern Orthodox Church is the right place for me.

(This in response to a private message asking me what led me to Orthodoxy.)

Wow!

I feel loved!

It's great to be married to someone who knows how to do that well.

Update on my dad

Mom posted about the recent hospice visit for my dad at his blog, These Things We Must Never Forget.

We covet your prayers.

Prom 2008

Pascha (Easter) from Prison

This is worth repeating:
(Stolen without too much shame from a blog I've just started reading.)

A Letter from Butyrskaya Prison - Pascha 1928

from Glory to God for All Things by fatherstephen

Serge Schmemann, son of Fr. Alexander Schmemann, in his wonderful little book, Echoes of a Native Land, records a letter written from one of his family members of an earlier generation, who spent several years in the prisons of the Soviets and died there. The letter, written on the night of Pascha in 1928 is to a family member, “Uncle Grishanchik” (This was Grigory Trubetskoi who had managed to emigrate to Paris). This letter should become a classic of Orthodox writing and witness to the faith that sustained so many and is today being resurrected in so many places. The triumph of the Resurrection so transcends his prison cell it’s a wonder that the walls remained. The entire book is a wonderful read. I recommend it without reservation.

30 March/ 12 April 1928

Dear Uncle Grishanchik, I greet you and Aunt Masha with the impending Holy Day, and I wish you all the very best. For a long, long time I have wanted to write to you, dear Uncle Grishanchik; you always showed such concern for me, you helped me so generously in a difficult moment of my life, and, mainly, your entire image is so inseparably linked for each of us, your nephews, with such wonderful memories; you always are, were, and will be our dearest, most beloved uncle.

I am approaching the fourth Easter that I will spend behind these walls, separated from my family, but the feelings for these holy days which were infused in me from earliest childhood do not fail me now; from the beginning of Holy Week I have felt the approach of the Feast, I follow the life of the Church, I repeat to myself the hymns of the Holy Week services, and in my soul there arise those feelings of tender reverence that I used to feel as a child going to confession or communion. At 35 those feelings are as strong and as deep as in those childhood years.

My dear Uncle Grishanchik, going over past Easters in my memory, I remember our last Easter at Sergiyevskoye, which we spent with you and Aunt Masha, and I felt the immediate need to write you. If you have not forgotten, Easter in 1918 was rather late, and spring was early and very warm, so when in the last weeks of Lent I had to take Aunt Masha to Ferzikovo, the roads were impassable. I remember that trip as now; it was a warm, heavy, and humid day, which consumed the last snow in the forests and gullies faster than the hottest sun; wherever you looked, water, water, and more water, and all the sounds seemed to rise from it, from the burbling and rushing of the streams on all sides to the ceaseless ring of countless larks. We had to go by sleigh - not on the road, which wound through the half-naked fields in a single muddy ridge, but alongside, carefully choosing the route. Each hoofprint, each track left by the runners, immediately turned into a small muddy stream, busily rushing off somewhere. We drove forever, exhausting the poor horse, and, finally, after successfully eluding the Polivanovo field, one of the most difficult places, I became too bold and got Aunt Masha so mired that I nearly drowned the horse and the sleigh; we had to unharness to pull it out and got wet to the eyebrows; in a word, total “local color.”

I remember the feeling I had that spring of growing strength, but that entire happy springtime din, for all the beauty and joy of awakening nature, could not muffle the sense of alarm that squeezed the heart in each of us. Either some hand rose in senseless fury to profane our Sergiyevskoye, or there was the troubling sense that our loving and closely welded family was being broken up: Sonia far off somewhere with a pile of kids, alone, separated from her husband; Seryozha, just married, we don’t know where or how, and you, my dear Uncle Grisha and Auht Masha, separated from your young ones, in constant worry over them. It was a hard and difficult time. But I believe that beyond these specific problems, this spiritual fog had a deeper common source: we all, old and young, stood then at a critical turning point: unaware of it, we were bidding farewell to a past filled with beloved memories, while ahead there loomed some hostile utterly unknown future.

And in the midst of all this came Holy Week. the spring was in that stage when nature, after a big shove to cast off winter’s shackles, suddenly grows quiet, as if resting from the first victory. But below this apparent calm there is always the sense of a complex, hidden process taking place somewhere deep in the earth, which is preparing to open up in all its force, in all the beauty of growth and flowering. Plowing and seeding the earth rasied rich scents, and, following the plow on the sweaty, softly turning furrow, you were enveloped in the marvelous smell of moist earth. I always became intoxicated by that smell, because in it one senses the limitless creative power of nature.

I don’t know how you all felt at the time, because I lived a totally separate life and worked from morning to night in the fields, not seeing, and, yes, not wanting to see, anything else. It was too painful to think, and only total physical exhaustion gave one a chance, if not to forget, then at least to forget oneself. But with Holy Week began the services in church and at home, I had to lead the choir in rehearsal and in church; on Holy Wednesday I finished the sowing of oats and, putting away the plow and harrow, gave myself entirely over to the tuning fork. And here began that which I will never forget!

Dear Uncle Grishanchik! Do you remember the service of the Twelve Gospels in our Sergiyevskoye church? Do you remember that marvelous, inimitable manner of our little parson? This spring will be nine years that he passed away during the midnight Easter service, but even now, when I hear certain litanies or certain Gospel readings, I can hear the exhilarated voice of our kind parson, his intonations piercing to the very soul. I remember that you were taken by this service, that it had a large impact on you. I see now the huge crucifix rising in the midst of the church, with figures of the Mother of God on one side and the Apostle John on the other, framed by multicolored votive lights, the waving flame of many candles, and, among the thoroughly familiar throng of Sergiyevskoye peasants, your figure by the right wall in front of the candle counter, with a contemplative expression on your face. If you only knew what was happening in my soul at that time! It was an entire turnover, some huge, healing revelation!

Don’t be surprised that I’m writing this way; I don’t think I’m exaggerating anything, it’s just that I feel great emotion remembering all these things, because I am continuously breaking off to go to the window and listen. A quiet, starry night hangs over Moscow, and I can hear first one, then another church mark the successive Gospels with slow, measured strikes of the bell. I think of my Lina and our Marinochka, of Papa, Mama, my sisters, brothers, of all of you, feeling the sadness of expatriation in these days, all so dear and close. However painful, especially at this time, the awareness of our separation, I firmly, unshakably believe all the same that the hour will come when we will all gather together, just as you are all gathered now in my thoughts.

1/14 April - They’ve allowed me to finish writing letters, and I deliberately sat down to finish it this night. Any minute now the Easter matins will start; in our cell everything is clean, and on our large common table stand kulichi and paskha, a huge “X.B.” [Christos Voskrese "Christ is risen"] from fresh watercress is beautifully arranged on a white table cloth with brightly colored eggs all around. It’s unusually quiet in the cell; in order not to arouse the guards, we all lay down on lowered cots (there are 24 of us) in anticipation of the bells, and I sat down to write to you again.

I remember I walked out of the Sergiyevskoye church at that time overwhelmed by a mass of feelings and sensations, and my earlier spiritual fog seemed a trifle, deserving of no attention. In the great images of the Holy Week services, the horror of man’s sin and the suffering of the Creator leading to the great triumph of the resurrection, I suddenly discovered that eternal, indestructible beginning, which was also in that temporarily quiet spring, hiding in itself the seed of a total renewal of all that lives. The services continued in their stern, rich order; images replaced images, and when, on Holy Saturday, after the singing of “Arise, O Lord,” the deacon, having changed into a white robe, walked into the center of the church to the burial cloth to read the gospel about the resurrection, it seemed to me that we are all equally shaken, that we all feel and pray as one.

In the meantime, spring went on the offensive. When we walked to the Easter matins, the night was humid, heavy clouds covered the sky, and walking through the dark alleys of the linden park, I imagined a motion in the ground, as if innumerable invisible plants were pushing through the earth toward air and light.

I don’t know if our midnight Easter matins made any impression on you then. For me there never was, and never will be, anything better than Easter at Seriyevskoye. We are all too organically tied to Sergiyevskoye for anything to transcend it, to evoke so much good. This is not blind patriotism, because for all of us Seriyevskoye was that spiritual cradle in which everything by which each of us lives and breathes was born and raised.

My dear Uncle Grishanchik, as I’ve been writing to you the scattered ringing around Moscow has become a mighty festive peal. Processions have begun, the sounds of firecrackers reach us, one church after another joins the growing din of bells. The wave of sound swells. There! Somewhere entirely nearby, a small church breaks brightly through the common chord with such a joyous, exultant little voice. Sometimes it seems that the tumult has begun to wane, and suddenly a new wave rushes in with unexpected strength, a grand hymn between heaven and earth.

I cannot write any more! That which I now hear is too overwhelming, too good, to try to convey in words. The incontrovertible sermon of the Resurrection seems to rise from this mighty peal of praise. My dear uncle Grishanchik, it is so good in my soul that the only way I can express my spirit is to say to you once again, Christ is Risen!

Georgy

Greek Festival! Come Join Us!

Greek Festival, May 16, 17, 18

I voted!

One stop early voting is a breeze!

Now, you go vote, too!

For an update on my dad...

See These Things We Must Never Forget.

And please pray for my mom especially, and for all of us.

Thank you.

Touchdown!

Mara and Grandy in Italy

This is not a smile.

Neither is this.

Too cute not to post

This was December in Florida.

Gabriel's Baptism

Meet my godson, Gabriel!

Here he is, getting ready to get baptized.

After the baptism, Cade and I helped Gabriel put on his new, white clothes, which symbolize new life in Christ. Our job was to hold up a towel so he had some privacy. Being a godmother is easy, with such a self-sufficient little guy.

The procession after the baptism, a sort of dance for joy for the new Christian.

Gabriel playing with his cross.

Gabriel's baptism, continued.

Beth's godmother, Beth, Fr. Nicholas, Gabriel, and me



Me and my godson!
I'm very proud of him. Can you tell?

Co-Sleeping!

 

Mara and her two babies, Apollonia (L) and Mary (R).

Mara's First Greek Dance!

 

 

The Sunday before the Feast of the Annunciation and Greek Independence Day.