Holy Orthodoxy

This will be just a short post to bring things up to date.

As you will know, if you have followed this blog from it's beginnings in October 2009, I have been moving gradually to Holy Orthodoxy.  Well, in January during Theophany, I asked Fr John to prepare me for formal acceptance into the Orthodox communion.  Since then I have been attending Divine Liturgy every Sunday and, during Great Lent, one or two services of Matins or Vespers during the week.

I was formally accepted as a catechumen on Sunday 7th February, incidentally the feast of my patron saint Richard of Wessex (+722), and my 60th birthday.

The plan was to be chrismated at the Paschal Liturgy, but in the end I had last minute concerns during the intensity of Holy Week, and I was actually chrismated on The Sunday of the Samaritan Woman, May 2nd 2010.

So now I can truly say that I have arrived at the beginning....



Love in Christ,

Richard.

Wisdom, Faith, and Repentance

I was lying in bed, half in prayer and half asleep, when it came to me that there are a number of linked ideas that have worried me for ages.  So I wrote this to get them off my chest a couple of days ago.



Knowledge, as an example, is only of any benefit if it is used for good.  Knowledge about God, is pure hell if it is not accompanied by knowledge of God - this is exactly where Lucifer is right now.  And confession of one's sins is only of benefit, only works it's healing grace, if accompanied by true repentance and  a firm resolve not to repeat the offence.



And in the case of addictive, possibly just habitual, sins there is a great problem.  We confess, and indeed repent, after each offence, but we know that there is no chance of avoiding recidivism without external help.  We can resolve away, but we are incapable of breaking the cycle of sin.  It's all very well for the Fathers, like Abba Sisoes, to say when you fall again, stand up and start again "Until you have been seized either by virtue or by sin.", but from here it looks like a pattern that will be repeated forever, and that offers no hope - indeed we are already seized by sin.  And hope is essential - without hope there is no faith.



So now, how do we approach confession of such sins?  Can we truly stand before Christ the Judge and say that we repent, knowing that we will probably repeat the offence later that very day?  And here it seems to me that we should find the greatest benefit of Sacramental Confession: even though Christ, to whom we confess, never sinned, the priest who stands beside us did, and does, and inspired by the Holy Spirit, his advice and guidance are, perhaps, just that is needed to break the cycle.



No, we probably can't say with honesty that we have confessed every sin of which we are aware, we certainly can't say with honesty that we will not sin again, but we can confess what we can, and receive forgiveness, and maybe more important: inspired advice from our spiritual father.  This will be the external help that we need to break the cycle.  Perhaps not this time round, but one day soon.  And there is the Hope, and Faith.



OK, that's the theory.  But if one (just one of many)  of your big sins is all about how you perceive other people see you, then there is a great hurdle to cross even to get to Sacramental Confession.  Here is this man, your father, who you respect more than anyone living, and you are going to tell him about these dirty filthy things you do habitually. For sure his opinion of you is going to be changed forever, isn't it?  How can you do this to yourself?  Because, and here's the rub: the self will not let you do this to it.  The sin of pride. You can even write about it (sinfully, in the hope that the reader will think you humble) - but actually do it?  No?  Well we'll see, because that is the next step for me.

O Lord, break my spirit, so that I can be saved.

I begin to perceive, dimly, what God meant when he told Saint Silouan the Athonite to "keep his mind in hell, and not despair."



Well, I wrote that earlier this week.  Yesterday I finally plucked up the courage (or rather my guardian saints and angel finally cajoled me) to make my first Orthodox Confession.  As expected, it was not a pleasant experience. But, everything I hoped for, everything promised, has been delivered.



I feel as if my great sins are now behind a sort of veil, I can still see them, but they are just facts, not of any great import any more.  Behind that veil my past life still exists, the high points still shine, the low points still sit in their dark corners, but they are no longer a festering dead weight. Nothing I have ever done has achieved anything like this.



I am still wondering how it happened.  Father said very little, he prayed the prescribed prayers, we stood by the Cross, we looked at Christ hanging there naked, dying, but triumphant.  I said my piece, as I had prepared it, holding nothing back.  I knelt under his stole, Father gave the absolution, while I cried a little.



As a friend wrote to me yesterday, all this comes about through the 'Master of Ceremonies' - the Holy Spirit.  Another friend sent me this prayer from St Simeon the New Theologian:





Forgive me my sins and grant me pardon.

Thou knowest the multitude of my evil-doings,

Thou knowest also my wounds,

And Thou seest my bruises.

But Thou knowest also my faith,

And Thou beholdest my willingness,

And Thou hearest my sighs.

Nothing escapeth Thee, my God,

My Maker, my Redeemer,

Not even a tear-drop,

Nor a fraction of a tear-drop.



I know, O Saviour, that no one

Hath sinned against Thee as I,

Nor hath done the deeds

That I have committed.

But this again I know:

That neither the greatness of transgressions

Nor the multitude of my sins

Can surpass the great patience

Of my God, and His extreme love for men.

But with the oil of compassion

Thou dost purify and enlighten them that fervently repent

And Thou makest them children of light,

And sharers of Thy Divine Nature.





Richard.

The Great Fast

Well here we are again, back in the Great Fast of Lent.  I wanted to share three things with you:

Firstly, for my Lenten studies this year I decided to revisit some of the writings of the early Fathers.  I have told you before how moving I find them.  I was pointed by a friend to a Lent reading list on the Internet  which gives a reading for each day, and I'm trying to follow this pattern.

On Shrove Tuesday, which for the Orthodox is actually the second day of Great Lent, it having started with the Vespers of Forgiveness Sunday, I came immediately on this little phrase from the letter to Diognetus (Chapter 6):

"To sum up all in one word: what the soul is to the body, that are Christians to the world."

Isn't that a wonderful thought?

It reminds me of Jill Edward's excellent article in the February 2010 Binsey Beacon, where she calls on us to pray for our nation, to make intercession, to meet with God on behalf  of the world.

Now the letter is generally dated about 130AD, so it is not completely impossible that the author was  taught by one of the Apostles, most probably St Paul, as the language is generally Pauline.

So during Lent of all times, let us prepare ourselves to celebrate the Passion, and most particularly the Resurrection, of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, by doing what we were made to do.  In this then we will be in His image.

Secondly, one of the customs of Forgiveness Sunday is to ask forgiveness of everyone, just in case something you have done as caused offence.  So I ask your forgiveness, and say in all sincerity to you, that should you have cause me offence, I forgive you too.  At Vespers we do this by each kneeling before the other, and saying 'Forgive me', then rising to kiss the other on the cheeks.  Consider yourself prostrated to, and kissed.

And finally, during Lent the Orthodox add the Prayer of St Ephrem the Syrian to our daily office, it's worth sharing:

Lord and Master of my life, give me not a spirit of sloth, faint-heartedness, lust for power and idle talk, but give me rather a spirit of chastity, humility, patience and love. O Lord and King, grant me to see my own faults and not to judge my brother or sister: for blessed art thou to the ages of ages. Amen.

Love in Christ, Richard.

Public Prayer

Previously I've posted  concerning private prayer and a person's life of unceasing prayer in and around their normal life of work and family. In this post I want to look at the prayer of The Church, the public prayer of The Christians together.

The central pivot of the Church's prayer is called the Divine Liturgy, or Holy Mass, or Holy Communion. The word Liturgy, which is the word used by the Orthodox, comes from an ancient (pre-Christian) Greek concept leitourgia, which meant that the rich would take on some extra duties which the poor could not afford to do. This is exactly what we are doing in the Holy Communion, we are making an offering on behalf of the whole world, and receiving from God, both ourselves personally, but also our community and the rest of creation, the Holy Gift, Jesus.

The other word we hear is the Greek noun eucharistía which literally means “Good Favour”. The Greek word Eucharistéō is the usual verb "to thank". The word “Mass”, by the way, comes from the final prayer of the Latin rite: Missa est, it was just a dismissal, but has been given an implication of “mission”, an icon of the missionary nature of the Church.

We appear to offer bread and wine, together with ourselves and our service, in return God comes to us himself and makes us anew. We are empowered, indeed commanded, to make this offering as we are the Royal Priesthood; commanded by none other than Christ Jesus himself. How Jesus comes to us as the Gift of God is a mystery, and this is why we call this a 'sacrament' - a Latin translation of the Greek Mysterion.

I call Holy Communion, the pivot because all other public prayer surrounds it and depends on it. In the early days of the church, the people of God lived in close communities and met for a common meal every day where the Holy Offering could be made (bread and wine offered), and the Gift received in fellowship. As Christianity spread wider into the community the custom of meeting for the Offering became a weekly event on the Lord's Day. This pattern is still maintained in the Orthodox and Roman Catholic communions, and this is also mostly true in the protestant churches of the classical reformation (for instance, the Lutherans, and Church of England), sadly it has died out in many modern reformed groups.

Our other public prayers are derived from the monastic tradition of praying every hour. Clearly nothing much would get done in the world if like monks and nuns, everyone stopped to pray for 15 minutes every hour, and even in monasteries the Hours are run together. But in truth these formal prayers are part and parcel of the Holy Liturgy – they are the Holy Liturgy in the daily and hourly life of The Church. Not everyone can be at every service, but by joining the public prayer in some way, we are joining ourselves to the offering of the Church.

There are then certainly two parts, equally important, to prayer: our own personal dialogue with God; and the great work of the Church as we make the Holy Offering together. Because we have Christ, we are the rich ones, and so we can afford to offer the leitourgia: in truth then we offer Him, the one and only worthy offering. And in return the whole world, the whole of creation, receives the Holy Gifts - not received because we are worthy, but because God loves us. Remember He loves everyone: those who know Him and love Him; those who once knew Him, but seem now to have forgotten Him; those who never knew Him; even those who know of Him but hate Him.

Love to you all,

Richard.

Sin is Personal

If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.

A.I. Solzhenitsyn

This little quotation says so much to me.   Some people say that they think of me as being good, but I know myself to be a sinner.  My heart contains so much to be sorry for, as well as so much to be grateful for.



For example, only one of many, I have a terrible temper, especially when I blame myself for something.  I am liable to go into a complete ranting rage at a moment's notice.  There appears to be nothing that I can do about it.  I also have difficulties with other passions.  Most of these are habits, and I would dearly like to have them behind me.



In fact when I think about it, I have all the passions: Pride, Anger, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Avarice, Sloth; but also in some strange way hints of all the virtues: Humility, Patience, Chastity, Contentedness, Temperance, Liberality, and Diligence.  This is what Aleksandr is saying in the quote above.  Defeating sin is about moving our own personal dividing lines.



And defeating sin is an internal battle: the devil is pretty simplistic in his approach, "if he did it yesterday, lets see if we can fool him into doing it again today" is his favourite ploy.  Not being a creator, he doesn't do well in the innovation stakes.  For true innovation in sinning you want a human, but once invented the devil is quite happy to nudge you into it time after time after time...



It's easy to say "avoid the opportunities for sin", but in practise this is impossible.  Yes, we can avoid pubs to avoid drink, but then we cut ourselves off from companionship with people for whom we may be called to help.  I could give up woodwork, so that I didn't get angry when I cut the wood wrong - but then I couldn't make the things that people love.  We could give up marriage, so we couldn't hurt the ones we love.



In fact we can't avoid sin, it is already in our hearts.  All we can do is turn back every time to God and repent - and then ask for Grace to do better.  Only God can take the stain of sin from our hearts, and He will only do it if he is asked.

This is what is meant by "standing in the struggle".

St Basil the Great wrote this:

Blessed, therefore, is he who did not continue in the way of sinners but passed quickly by better reasoning to a pious way of life.  For there are two ways opposed to each other, the one wide and broad, the other narrow and close ...  Now,  the smooth and downward way has a deceptive guide, a wicked demon, who drags his followers through pleasure to destruction, but the rough and steep way has a good angel, who leads his followers through the toils of virtue to a blessed end.

Notice the words 'continue' and 'quickly' in the first sentence, and the phrase 'toils of virtue' in the last. And this is a story about a monk from Kiev:

A brother asked Abba Sisoes, saying, "What shall I do, Abba, for I have fallen?"  The old man answered, "Get up again."  The brother says,"I got up and fell again."  The old man continued, "Get up again and again."  The brother asked, "'till when?"  The old man answered, "Until you have been seized either by virtue or by sin."

It's clear then, the Fathers tell us that we have to find a way to the rough and steep path that leads to the blessed end. But that we will step off that path, and when we do we must immediately step back on again, albeit a little further from our goal. Confess the sin, turn to God, immediately begin to struggle upwards again.



What, after all, was the Problem in The Garden of Eden?  Was it the eating of the forbidden fruit?  Or was it, perhaps, the lie, the attempt to hide the broken commandment, the fear of being found out?  Yes, the breaking of the command was the sin, but the stain on their hearts, on our hearts still today, is the fear of being found out.  This is why we must immediately confess and ask for forgiveness - the longer we wait the worse the stain, the worse the rot.



A quote from St. Silouan of Athos:

The heart-stirrings of a good man are good; those of a wicked person are wicked; but everyone must learn how to combat intrusive thoughts, and turn the bad into good. This is the mark of the soul that is well versed.

How does this come about, you will ask?

Here is the way of it: just as a man knows when he is cold or when he feels hot, so does the man who has experienced the Holy Spirit know when grace is in his soul, or when evil spirits approach.

The Lord gives the soul understanding to recognize His coming, and love Him and do His will. In the same way the soul recognizes thoughts which proceed from the enemy, not by their outward form but by their effect on her [the soul].

This is knowledge born of experience;  and the man with no experience is easily duped by the enemy.

The Lord should have the last word here (Luke 6:45):

The good man out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil man out of his evil treasure produces evil; for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.

On Sin

The traditional understanding of sin in this country (England) derives mostly from the Roman concepts of legal debt and erroneous concept of the Latin Church that Adam's fall changed us into creatures somehow different from those that God created in Eden.

The idea that sin is in some way held in a kind of 'account', and then meritorious works somehow cancel these debts, is part of the Latin heritage, and it has permeated the language of the Anglican church too. I find this unhelpful as a concept, the thought of having to pay off my account is enough to send me into deep deep depression. Because, like St Paul, I am a great sinner, and like him I persecuted and pilloried the faithful for many years. God be praised that also like him I have seen the light, albeit not quite as brightly – yet.

These are not, however, the concepts of the early Church Fathers who saw sin as a turning away from, or rejection, of God AND his offer of Eternal Life in Him. For the Fathers Adam's fall was as if the Perfection of Adam was obscured by sin, under that shroud the perfection is still in existence – we are still made “in His image” - only God can see it, but it is still there. Christ shows us by his submission, even to revilement and death, the way back to God and to perfection. This is the triumph of the Cross, that by submission to God we can all be made perfect, but the way leads though agony. This is however a cup that you can pick up, or one you can let go by.

All the Fathers agree that God has given his creatures complete freedom to choose, and we retain that freedom forever. It is not the belief in God that brings salvation - the devil and the fallen angels know full well the truth, but have rejected it – it is the acceptance of God's will that enables Him to bring salvation.

This is why it is so important to understand that Jesus was both fully Man and fully God. In his Humanity he shows us what can be achieved if we ask. He did conquer all the temptations of a human life, and then, just for us, submitted to the agony of death and resurrection. He didn't need to go though the agony for himself, he didn't go to 'pay off' our account of sins. No, he went through the agony to show us what God could achieve if we ask him, and to show us that the process would bring pain before it brought life. The Fathers also taught that while in the tomb he showed this to all the dead, so opening the way to life, even to them. On Great Pascha (Passover, Easter) the Orthodox sing the hymn (it's much better in Greek):

Christ is risen from the dead,

Trampling down death by death,

And to those in the tombs he has given Life.

When you next go to St Bega's, Bassenthwaite, look at the ancient Crucifix over the pulpit, the Cross stands in the open tomb, the scull and bones are Adam's; but they are ours too.

So how do we handle our sin? The first thing to say is “turn back to God”, which is another way of saying “pray”. You have broken the relationship you had with Him, so do what you would do for any relationship that you have broken and want to mend – ask for forgiveness. But don't get hung up on the sin, it isn't an irretrievable situation – this is Christ's Good News: “life for sinners, follow me!” And don't get into self over-analysis, that way leads to depression - an opportunity for the devil - it is no way out, and it leads to death.

A wise man, probably a modern saint, Archimandrite Sophrony Sakharov (the title means roughly Chief Abbot – a monk, he died in Essex) said: “You know, we pick and poke away, hunting for every little mistake or thought, and we make ourselves crazy, all for nothing. It becomes an obsession, and really makes a wall between us and God, leaving no room for grace to act. Yes, we must know our sins, and that we are sinful and deluded beings, but we must never lose sight of the fact that we come to God in prayer, not to be obsessed with our sins, but to find His mercy. Otherwise the devil takes everything away from us… joy, hope, peace, love… and leaves us nothing but this obsession with our mistakes. That is not repentance. That is neurosis…”

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen.

This is joy of our faith that we can, with utter confidence, say: “Lord have mercy.”

Love, Richard.

Prayer Unceasing

I submitted this article to The Binsey Beacon. It was published in the December 2009/January 2010 edition. It's a follow-up to my last blog entry (see below). I rather unashamedly have plagiarised some words from Fr James Coles's blog Scholé (It's my favourite blog right now)

Prayer Unceasing.

In my last letter to The Binsey Beacon (Sept 2009), I wrote about unceasing prayer, as advocated by Saint Paul in 1 Thess 5:17. I thought it might be helpful to expand a bit on what I mean by 'unceasingly'.

I have been studying the writings of the Holy Fathers, the so called 'Patriarchs of the Church', holy men who lived in the first centuries after The Resurrection of Our Lord. Some of these were taught by the Apostles, but all were very close in time to people who heard Our Lord speak – the oral tradition was still very strong. So I count their testament very highly. The study of their writings is called 'Patristics' for obvious reasons.

The study of Patristics has occupied the Eastern Church, The Orthodox in particular, throughout the years since, and many of the more recent orthodox writers have followed the tradition of the Holy Fathers too. It's interesting to note that of all the manuscripts (velum, parchment, and papyrus) that we still have from ancient times, the fragments of the Gospels and Epistles are the most numerous, and then the writings of Fathers about them. You can tell the popularity of a manuscript by the number of copies that were made – and hence the likelihood that they will survive the vagaries of time. This may be a good topic for another letter.

To return to prayer unceasing. It is pretty impossible to do nothing but say prayers all the time. You have to wash and dress and cook and work, otherwise you will die. This story about Saint Anthony the Great (c251-356) is helpful.

Abba Anthony fell into discouragement and a great darkening of thoughts, he said to God, “Lord, I want to be saved but these thoughts do not leave me alone - what shall I do in my affliction? How can I be saved?” A short while afterwards, when he got up to go out, Anthony saw a man like himself sitting at his work, getting up from his work to pray, then sitting down and plaiting a rope, then getting up again to pray. It was an angel of the Lord sent to correct and reassure him. He heard the angel saying to him, “Do this and you will be saved.” At these words, Anthony was filled with joy and courage. He did this, and he was saved.”

Even work is prayer if it is dedicated to God. Saint Gregory the Theologian (of Nazianzus) said, “remember God more often than you breathe.” Prayer is to be as natural to us as breathing, or thinking, or speaking. Somehow we need to get into the habit of prayer so that everything becomes a part of it. The point is briefly expressed in one of the Sayings of the Desert Fathers: “A monk who prays only when he stands up for prayer is not really praying at all.” (Anonymous) Saint Antiochus of the Monastery of St. Sabbas (7^th C) , alludes to the words of Ecclesiastes 3:1-7 when he says: “There is a proper time for everything except prayer: as for prayer, its proper time is always.”

So when we speak of unceasing prayer we are not saying that the words must be said unceasingly, but we are saying that the mind must be in the heart, and the heart and mind turned constantly towards God, no matter what we are doing. Again then, I suggest to you that repeating a simple prayer a goodly number of times just after you awaken, will set the mind in the heart and on God. At frequent intervals throughout the working day further short periods of concentrated focus on God are needed. And finally to go to sleep with the prayer echoing in the mind: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”.

Remember, at this time of year especially, that He came to give you Life. What are you going to give Him for Christmas: attention, adoration, love?

His Peace be with you all this Christmas and throughout 2010. Richard.

Private Prayer

This is a reprint of a letter I wrote to The Binsey Beacon, my local church newspaper (Anglican).  It was published in the September 2009 edition.  Without it my next blog won't make much sense.

On Private Prayer

He is like a still pool, a perfect reflection - and yet it is the still pool that is the refection of the perfect Him.

Isn’t it amazing how much you can say in just a few words? True prayer isn’t about words, it’s about relationship. It’s about standing with God, at peace with Him as He is at peace with you. The hard part is silencing the noisy ego-self with it’s constant prattling on about the things we see and hear and feel. We need to put our mind in our heart, and not in our brain.

Perhaps you have sat quietly just holding the hand of someone you love deeply. To hold a newborn asleep in your arms. To stand on a mountain, silenced by the splendour, so grateful to have lived to feel that serenity. Standing in prayer is like that - no words, just love

If you know what I mean, then you’ll also know how fleeting these moments are, how infrequently we let ourselves love so deeply, how hard it is to achieve that degree of rapport. It can’t be done on demand, all you can do is to stand there, and wait, and hope.

Sometimes you will have to pour out all your worries and concerns, a great rush of words and emotions, before you can stand in silence - eventually, just to love. Sometimes you stand in silence just hoping for a single word, but it doesn’t come. Sometimes your senses will put you straight into the right mode, a smell, or a sound, or perhaps a loved-ones gentle touch, and there you are.

And even more frequently you can’t get anywhere at all, but the half-memory of the bliss makes you yearn for what you can’t quite recall.

This is where a prayer like The Jesus Prayer can help. A simple prayer, one that you can repeat easily meaning every word, concentrating on just the words, letting the ego exhaust itself, while you put your heart into the prayer. The important thing is the prayer, that is where all your focus should be. Don’t worry about all the things you want God to do, He knows. Don’t worry about all the sins you remember, He already forgave. Don’t worry about listening for His reply, you’ll hear Him when He needs you to.

Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner

Say it now. “Lord” - yes, that’s the right attitude - submit. “Jesus Christ” - yes, the God who became like me to suffer as I do and die for me. “Son of God” - yes, the whole Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Spirit. “Have mercy on me” - in the end that’s all I can ask, because I acknowledge that I am “a sinner”. To say the prayer is to assume the attitude of love, to put your mind into your heart, and do nothing but what you are made for - Love. God does all the rest. As Saint Paul says in 1 Thess 5:17:

Pray without ceasing.

Yes - forever...

Love, Richard.

Discovering the Saints

When I started to read Fr John's book "The Living Tradition of the Saints", I realised at once that it was going to take some time.  I had already read Fr John's booklet that explains the fundamental elements of Orthodox Tradition. And I was familiar from the works of Fr John Main OSB and Fr Laurence Freeman OSB with their ideas, derived in part from Saint John Cassian's documentation of the ascetic tradition of the Desert Fathers, and their modern rediscovery of Benedictine Christian Meditation.  Fr John had also explained the concept of Theosis to me in conversation.

Now to my simple mind (ha!) the ideas seemed very similar, and also struck chords with Zen and other mystic eastern ideas. Calm the ego, focus the mind on a simple idea, and then wait for the change to happen.  But walking this path with Our Lord, his Holy Apostles, and the Saints discovers a completely different perspective.  The issue is not the method, the issue is the objective.  It is the fundamental question: "Do you want to be eternally in the closest possible relationship with God?"

I say "do you want" because the concept of Free Will comes across as the single greatest respect that the Creator has for his creation.  God never forces anything on us, and if it seems like He is, then you have misunderstood.  This is Love, love is Respect, respect taken to the ultimate level.

I say "eternally", because once embarked on, this journey leads beyond the grave and "forever and ever" or, as the orthodox prayers have it "to the ages of ages".  And a wonderful idea is developed in this concept of eternity, that the relationship can get closer even after death.

I say "closest possible" because when we start on this journey we have no concept at all of how close the relationship can be.  The best guess we have comes from Our Lord's references to the first person of the Trinity as Father, we may be lucky and understand that a little, but maybe not.  What heights can this relationship reach?

And "relationship" is what it's all about.  All the stories of the Saints tell us this, a Saint is one who demonstrably achieves a close relationship with God.  We can tell this from their demeanour, from their works, and from their effects on others.

Finally, ultimately, the most important word is "God".  God is the end of all prayer, of all worship, of all longing, indeed all living.  There must be acceptance that the relationship is of creature to Creator.  The wonder is in discovering that this surrender is victory - if you doubt this look at the story of The Cross.

Fr John's book describes his journey through the scriptures, and by meeting the Saints in their stories.  He draws out the little nuggets of great wisdom from all this.  It is not an easy comfortable read.

So I started, I found I could read maybe half a page at a time, perhaps two pages a day.  There are 375 pages, and it took about nine months.  I did stop on occasion and read other things.  I also started, for the first time in my life, to really pray.

I found that I now had a method of prayer that works for me.  I'm not decrying others their methods, but for me I need a deep sanctity and a peace that I find now both in public and private prayer.

In private prayer, I sit alone, preferably in the quiet dark. I say the Jesus Prayer a few times, then try to concentrate all my attention on God, it's a sense of will, focus, striving, longing.  I have to remember to breathe.  I can't do it for long, so I say the Jesus Prayer again for a while and concentrate on that.  Then back to the focus on God.  At the moment I think of Him as a kind of Bright Darkness all about me - I expect this will change.  This goes on for as long as it does, sometimes just a few minutes.

I also like to stand and say the Hours, or the Rule of Saint Pachomius.  These are for when there is a lot going on in the head. Just the discipline of singing a Psalm or two, and the the ancient prayers as they have been said for almost two millennia, makes worries float away, and grounds me in the importance of my relationship with God.

In public prayer, whether in the local Anglican Churches, or at Matins, Vespers, or even The Liturgy with Fr John, I pray the set prayers with as much ardour as I can muster.  I get so much more from the formal prayer now that I have a proper prayer-life away from the church and the congregation.

And what has this achieved?  Well maybe nothing.  Maybe I would have become more calm, less aggressive, more loving, less critical, and all the other things if I had just prayed like my Anglican brothers.  I don't know.  This is certainly harder work.

I have not made the step of becoming Orthodox, I'm not able to cut myself off from communion with my beloved friends, and I may never do that.  I may never be able to take a full part in the Orthodox Mysteries, at least not here on earth.  At the moment this is a tension, so I'll let The Lord handle it.

There are some downsides to this programme of prayer too.  God shows me quite often how much evil I still have inside me.  I wake from sleep with terrible dreams still echoing in my mind on occasion.  The Fathers say that this is not unusual, God has a lot of unpacking of sins to do before I can move forward.  I have to see these things and, with my free will, throw them away, to forgive myself, if you will.

And sometimes I have to stop and take a rest, not a rest from the relationship with God, but a rest from getting closer.  He is so wonderful that I need time to contemplate Him from this vast distance.

I find having read what I've written here that I didn't say much about Fr John's book after all.  The orthodox insights into the scriptures, the lives of the early Saints, how the schism between the Greek and Latin church evolved, the Saints of the modern era especially St John of the Cross with Saint Teresa of Ávila, and later still Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, Saint Silouan of Athos and Archimandrite Sophrony Sakharov.  Maybe we can get to that later.

Three years searching

This second post to my new blog is intended to bring my journey of faith a bit further forward.

Following that midnight conversion experience, I didn't throw myself into things.  I waited and prayed.  I read a lot, and in particular started to listen hard to the Vicar's sermons.  Most people around here are evangelical Anglican or Methodist, maybe not Sola Scriptura, but pretty close, and I couldn't see that - after all the first Christians only had the Hebrew Scriptures.  The local church is low Anglican (The Church of England is a broad church, as they say), quite a long way from my Catholic heritage.  Services are fairly predictable from the Common Worship style, although there are still Churches where only the 1662 Common Prayer Book is used.

However, the Vicar led prayer meetings too, and I soon started going to these, and also to some of the Bible Studies that he ran.  The prevailing prayer style appears as Chatting to God.  I'm  not really inclined to this, as it seems to me that the important thing is to foster the relationship with God, yes by confessing our cares and yes, by being open to him, but in some way no one was telling me how to do that.  And in Bible study groups the pace is governed by the level at which the group can go - and many people can't go further than a very literal interpretation.  I end up in such groups either dominating or silent and unsatisfied. In short, this way lies anger, despair, and sin.

Still, I met some wonderful people, they are all dearly loved friends now, and I could not be without them.

I had the opportunity to represent the parish at the local Churches Together group, and that has helped me a lot.  It's given me a better view of what others believe, and how others do things.  Boy, the Catholic Church has changed since I knew it in the 1970's; and the Society of Friends have wonderful meetings that I love. Even the local Charismatic church has a lot to offer, but for me it isn't right.

Then one day, Ros came home from a History Society meeting, they had been addressed by a local clergyman about the Local Celtic Saints.  After the meeting she had met an Orthodox Deacon who had retired with his wife to the area, and was setting up a Community - Saint Herbert, Saint Mungo, and Saint Bega - the local Celtic Saints!

Well, of course, we had to invite him to the next Churches Together meeting, and there I met him.  Fr John's approach is to hug everyone, I think it's Russian, although he is very British.  He expects a full kiss too, no chaste cheek touching.  He rather impressed me.  We got talking, he told me that he had a Chapel in his attic, with full frescos on all the walls.  I invited him for tea (well, I'm English, it's what you do) and we have become firm friends.

About this time our local vicar resigned from the church - the pressures of the job had given him what was close to a nervous breakdown.  It's completely understandable, we have two priests for nine parishes.  We were lucky, we got a new man in just six months, but they were a long six months for me.

Just about then too, Fr John asked me if I knew how he could ask the Church of England for the loan of St Bega's Church for his ordination to the priesthood - he wanted an ancient place that was big enough for his bishop and all those who would want to come.  St Bega's certainly pre-dates the Great Schism, it was built in stone about 950, but there was probably a wooden church there before that.

Saint Bega is one of the patrons of his community too, and it would be the first time in over 1000 years that an Orthodox Bishop ordained a priest to serve in Cumbria.  In due course we managed that difficult introduction between Bishop Basil of Amphipolis, and my lord Bishop Graham of Carlisle which resulted in special permission being given, and a year ago this weekend Deacon John was dragged to a little travelling altar I made in the crossing of St Bega's and ordained a priest.  It was my first Orthodox Liturgy.

Fr John arrived on our doorstep a few days later with a copy of his great book: "The Living Tradition of the Saints, and the significance of their teaching for us".  That book, and the man that goes with it, changed everything again.



And I think that will do for today.

First Post

Well, at last, a Blog!

I'm not quite sure where this is going, but it seems that I usually have a lot to say, so we shall see if I also have a lot to write.

A little bit of history to start with seems appropriate, although I don't plan to start at the beginning, if you want that go to my CV on my webpage.

I started writing about my faith a couple of years ago, and then as it developed, so did my writing.  I am a bit of mixed-up-kid when it comes to faith, but I am trying to sort that out, as you'll see.

My father was brought up in a staunch Roman Catholic family in England's county Durham.  We suspect that, at least on his mother's side, there was a strong dose of Irish genes.  Father's mother wanted him to become a priest, and sent him to a Marist School, which he hated.  In rebellion, he became an Industrial Chemist, and in due course met my mother.

Mother's family were green-grocers from Hatfield, about 20 miles north of London, and she was an Anglican, who sang in the local church choir.  As was necessary in those days, she formally converted to Catholicism to marry father, and in due course when I was born early in 1950, I was baptised by the Catholic priest at St Bonaventure's Church in Welwyn Garden City.

Soon after this my father took the next step in his revolution and stopped all contact with the Catholic Church.  Since that day, he is 89 as I write, he has professed himself an atheist.  Mother brought my younger brother and me up as Anglicans, and in about 1958 she was formally received back into the Church of England.

In the fullness of time, in about 1965, I went to confirmation classes, and was duly confirmed by the Bishop of St Albans in the Parish Church at Baldock in Hertfordshire.  It didn't take!

Soon after I left home in 1968 to go to University (Kent at Canterbury), I met and became close friends (platonic) with a catholic girl, and became quite interested in Catholicism.  One of the local churches was on my way to college from my digs, and I would drop in to hear the 8am Mass (Tridentine - in Latin).  Eventually I asked the University Catholic Chaplain, Fr Francis Moncrieff, for instruction, and formally converted later that year, being re-confirmed at Westminster Cathedral by the then Archbishop.

Then I met the Franciscan friars who had a house on campus, and was very enamoured of their simple life and easy-going manner.  This seemed to be what God was calling me to, and I made preliminary steps with a view to joining the Order of Friars Minor when I graduated.

But then I met Rosalinde, and suddenly the celibate life of a Poor Friar didn't seem at all the right direction.  Ros was, and is, an Anglican - firm and unshakable in her faith.  A couple of years after graduation we were married.  I didn't even ask her if she would mind a Catholic wedding, we were married in the Parish Church of St James, Weybridge, by Canon Buckley.  It was as Anglican as it gets.

My faith faded away.  I have to say in retrospect that I did very little to foster it.  At first I'd go to Mass on my own, and then I'd go to Church with Ros, and eventually I became agnostic and stopped going all together.  I read a lot, and found myself in what today would be the Dawkins camp.  A proselytising atheist.

This history has reached about 1976.  From then until about 2004 - 28 years - not one little glimmer of religious zeal was to be seen.  Oh, I did flirt with Buddhism, but that was never religious, it was much more philosophical, and I did read the Koran, well, I read everything - I still do!

When we retired to Cumbria we worried that we wouldn't know anyone, so we decided that we would go to the local village church as a way to meet people and get involved.  I have to say I was complete fraud - I'd sit through the service, maybe mumble the hymns a bit, but I was there for Ros really.  But the people were open, loving, and friendly, the sermons were good, very very good.  And gradually I noticed that I was listening with interest.  God bless the Reverend Ian, a gifted preacher, teacher, and learned biblical scholar - and a troubled soul.

One night, as I lay awake in the depths of the dark, I just felt I had to ask the question: "Do you really exist?", and as clearly as if it had been shouted in my ear, I knew the answer was "YES".  There was not, in fact, any sound, no loud voice, no Pauline flash of light.  I wasn't blinded, but I was convinced.

I told Ros at breakfast.  Next Sunday I took communion.  Everything changed.