12 posts tagged “orthodoxy”
James' post on WALL E as well as my recent turn on my other blog (though I'm learning about human characterizations of passions there) has made me think of personifications in movies, especially cartoons and animated movies. We are used to animals acting and speaking like, and thus personifying humans, and then toys doing so in Toy Story, and now it's WALL E, the robot acting like a human. Even more so than the people in Narnia, as James observes. My developing theory is that we have a very high expectation of how humans should act. "Should" being the key word. They should be intelligent, consistent, brave, virtuous, etc. We are very critical of ourselves and others. But we do not have such high expectations of animals. They are "lower" and are appreciated mostly for their cuteness and vulnerability. We relax around them. And relaxing actually makes us more true to ourselves. So if the creators and the audience are relaxed in the presence of a non-threatening bunny for instance, maybe they and we can be more ourselves through the bunny, if that makes sense. Any human activity, like talking, pestering, playing practical jokes is impressive if a bunny does it. More so in fact.
Back to WALL E, I'll speak of the first part so's not to give too much away. What if he'd been a lone human person similarly cleaning up the garbage left behind by the departed humans. One, he would have been more connected to the ones departed, in our minds, perhaps even sharing responsibility. And there would have been a complication with how he was bonded, or not so, with his parents. Having him be a robot programmed by humans for a specific task lets us blame short-sighted humans as a whole and not specific people/parents. He is different than other robots though in that he bonds to things emotionally. Therefore we as humans can relate to him. We can personify our instinctive bond with created things through him, but his is untainted by passions - greed, lust of power, laziness, impulsiveness, lack of planning, etc. that got the earth in that shape in the first place. The robot is innocent of these things as a child is. Somehow he is impervious to temptation, which is how we "should" become, and which is indeed our fundamental state. The passions are an anomaly that we have sadly gotten used to and have developed a habit, after the Fall, of being lead by them, which - I have learned through Orthodox teaching - is unnatural. We are naturally innocent and virtuous like the robots, toys, and animals in stories. Writing about them and reading/watching them is a way to get in touch with that buried humanity by letting our guards down. Somehow, because of passions either in us or in others, when we are dealing with humans, our guard gets up and we get stiff and rigid - more like a robot and less like a human - how's that for irony? Iron - get it?
p.s. the other day I tried to post a couple of new home videos but they would not upload so that's why it said I posted when I didn't.
Today, Orthodox Sunday, is the 3rd anniversary of our being received into the Orthodox Church by Holy Chrismation and/or Baptism.
From Wikipedia, "The Sunday of the Triumph of Orthodoxy is celebrated on the first Sunday of Great Lent. It is the celebration of the victory of the iconodules over the iconoclasts by the decision of the Seventh Ecumenical Council. Therefore, the service is to commemorate the restoration of icons for use in services and private devotional life of Christians.
Services often include the clergy or the faithful triumphantly processing around the church, holding icons of their patron or parish saints. In areas where multiple jurisdictions exist (such as the United States), Pan-Orthodox Vespers are also usually celebrated in the evening."
I'll repost the first icon I ever bonded with in memory of our son, Isaac.
LIFE OF
ST. HERMAN OF ALASKA
- (c.1756 - 1837)
- Feast Days: August 9th (canonization)
- & December 13th (repose)
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In 1994 the 200th anniversary of Orthodoxy in America was celebrated — the bicentennial of the establishment of a Russian Orthodox mission on Kodiak Island, Alaska. On September 24, 1794, ten missionaries from the Valaam Monastery in the St. Petersburg (Russia) diocese, who had traveled for a year across 7,000 miles, finally reached their harsh new mission land in Alaska, or "Russian America," which had been a part of the Russian Empire until its sale to the United States in 1867. Only one of these original missionaries survived and remained in America—Holy Father St. Herman.
American Orthodoxy today owes a great
debt to these ten missionary monks, most especially to the simple and humble ascetic monk,
Father Herman. Truly the "North-Star of Christ’s Holy Church," and the last
survivor of the original 1794 mission, he worked among the Alutiiq people for 43
years, teaching them by word and by the example of
his holy life and great deeds. For most of those years he lived on Spruce Island—his
"New Valaam"—teaching and caring for the natives as his beloved children,
frequently defending them against the exploitation of the Russian fur traders. The people
quickly grew to love him and came to him with all their problems. He lived the most
ascetic life possible, eating and sleeping little, wearing the same ragged clothes
year-round, feeding the birds and wild animals (even bears), and in continual prayer with
his constant companions—God, the saints and the angels. When smallpox, brought by the
European ships, ravaged the native Alaskans, Father Herman personally ministered to them,
and brought all the orphans to his New Valaam, where he took care of them. He built an
orphanage, school and chapel. He grew food in his garden, caught fish and baked cookies
for the children. He taught them in his school, and showed them by his example how to live
a godly life. Indeed, the children and adults loved their dear Apa (grandfather),
and the native people have maintained their devotion to their beloved holy man until
today. (Most native Alaskans are Orthodox). St. Herman was a clairvoyant wonder-worker,
who saw into people’s hearts and into the future. Once, when a tidal wave (sunami)
threatened the island, the saint put an icon near the sea, and said that the water would
not come past the icon: it didn’t. Another time there was a similar experience with a
forest fire.
click here for the rest of the article
Today is effectively the beginning of the Orthodox Christian Nativity fast. Officially it begins tomorrow, but we fast on Wednesdays and Fridays too so yesterday was our last day to eat meat.
Let every heart prepare Him room.
(for more information about the Nativity or the other 11 Great Feasts of the Church, see this page on oca.org.
For the sale, I prepared some brochures written by our Priest about our Church. This portion was on the inside:
SOME BASIC TENETS OF ORTHODOXY
Orthodox Christians believe that Christianity is a faith of revelation. That is, whatever we can say or know about God is possible only because God has taught us. He manifests Himself to the world so that we may come to know Him and thus have life. “And this is life eternal, that they might KNOW Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ Whom Thou has sent.” (John 17:13)
The Lord has revealed Himself as One God Who is at the same time three distinct divine Persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
God’s most perfect Self Revelation came to mankind through the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, the only begotten Son of the Father, Jesus Christ. We proclaim Christ to be the Savior of the world. He is both God and man, fully divine and fully human. In contrast to some liberal tendencies of modern theology, Orthodox Christians believe in the virgin birth of Christ, His actual death, burial, resurrection, and ascension. Through Christ we become children of God and thus citizens and heirs of a heavenly Kingdom. (John 1:12-13; Romans 8:17).
Christ’s saving life is imparted to us through the liturgical, sacramental life of the Church, Christ’s Body. Orthodoxy recognizes 7 major Sacraments: Baptism, Chrismation, Communion, Confession, Marriage, Ordination, and Anointing of the Sick (Unction). It must be stressed, however, that traditionally the entire life of the Church is considered “sacramental”.
Salvation in Christ is a gift that must be appropriated by each person individually through faith in Christ; through centering one’s life around the sacramental life of the Church; and through efforts at living a Christ-like existence. In general, salvation is viewed as a life-long process of becoming “holy as God is holy” (1 Peter 1:15-16), of becoming more and more God-like by His Grace. We cannot earn or merit salvation by our deeds. Yet we must strive always to “cooperate” with God’s Grace, to walk by His Spirit, and in this way “work out (our) own salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12).
Prayer, both private and corporate, is central to the life of any Christian. Orthodoxy holds that without prayer there can be no Christian or spiritual life. “Prayer is the means by which all of the virtues and powers of God are obtained. Through prayer one unites one’s heart and mind to God and learns His Will” (V. Rev. Fr. Thomas Hopko). In fact we are called to make our entire life a prayer. Every thought, word and deed is to be referred to God, done with Him in mind. St. Paul says, “Pray without ceasing. In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ concerning you” (1 Thess. 7:17-18).
The Bible is venerated as the written inspired Word of God. Most importantly it reveals spiritual truths concerning the nature of God, man and their relationship to one another. The Bible was written by the Church and for the Church. It can be fully and properly understood and interpreted only within the context of the Church’s life. Through His Word God speaks to His people. A prayerful and meditative reading or hearing of Scripture places Christians in contact with the Lord Himself.
Orthodox Christians often speak of Holy Tradition, defined as the Church’s memory of Her experiences with God throughout the centuries. Anything which presents a truthful witness to what God has revealed to us about Himself, man and life in general, may be considered a part of Holy Tradition. The Bible is not separate from Tradition but is the Primary written expression of it. Other such expressions are: the Church’s liturgical services; the writings and teachings of the saints; and the decrees of numerous councils. Icons and Orthodoxy’s sacred art are also considered part of Holy Tradition.
As implied above, Orthodox Christians are traditionally “Churchly People“. That is they are “vividly conscious of belonging to a community,” (Bishop Kallistos Ware) and derive their strength from the life of that community, whose life is God. The Church is defined in the Bible as “the Body of Christ” (1 Corinthians 12); “the Bride of Christ” (Revelations 21); “the pillar and bulwark of Truth” (1 Timothy 3:15); and “the fullness of Him that fills all in all” (Ephesians 1:22-23). These are powerful definitions serving to identify totally the Church’s life with that of Our Lord. In and through the Church God’s life is opened and we experience His love, forgiveness, peace and joy as fully as is possible for us. Following St. Paul and the witness of the Apostles, Orthodox Christians confess their belief in One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church of Jesus Christ. “There is one body and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all” (Ephesians 4: 4-6).
“That they may be one, even as We are one…” (John 17:11, 21, 22, 23). This perfect oneness for which Christ prayed must manifest itself visibly in a common vision of God, man and life among the disciples. For two thousand years Orthodox Christians worldwide have shared this vision, being united in a single faith, confessing God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
In the link below on Acceptance, it says that it can involve either action or inaction. You can accept something while speaking against it, or you can remain silent while not accepting something in your heart. Deciding to change something is an interesting delimma. To act is to imply that I know that a certain outcome is worth the effort, and that the effort is either a necessary statement on it's own, or that it will be effective. Passivists think that the active cure is worse than the disease. Activists think that they have the calling to be more active than the person they think is causing harm. The former says you have the right to be the way you are without any opposition from me. The latter says my way is better than your way and I'm going to exert pressure, to whatever extent, on you to try to change what you are doing. I used to be an activist about more things. I still think my role as parent should be very active. But even then, I try to allow individuality and personal freedom in my children. But hopefully if I do my job right, they'll have the tools necessary, including knowledge, strength, habits and motivation, to make healthy choices according to the way they are individually bent. I'm getting less active about changing the world though. I write stuff in blogs that are accessed totally by some effort and motivation on your part, not because I'm pounding your door, or buzzing you on the phone. I never have been a successful salesman or dog trainer either, for that matter. But for some reason my children and husband listen to me sometimes. The Orthodox way is about being activist with ourselves and our own sins, however everyone is usually responsible to some extent for someone else and/or something - be they teachers, priests, or managers over those "under" them, even if it's a garden or a dog. Mainly though, we need to offer them and our actions up to God to be changed into conformity to His will, for His glory and pleasure.
The article also says that Buddhists teach one to accept suffering. To accept our cross is to accept suffering, but we have to know God's will for our cross. Sometimes we think we have to accept something that isn't God's will. The Martyrs died in defiance, non-acceptance, of the rulers' command to bow to idols. Yet they accepted bodily torture and death. Orthodox Asceticism is about suffering, denying yourself, in one sense in order to gain a higher desire - God. So comfort and pleasure should be sought within the will of God. I can talk myself into thinking just about anything is God's will. This is why I need the Church which I've voluntarily placed myself under, to guide me in God's will, including instruction on how to read the Bible.
We didn't have time to go to Yosemite as we had hoped. Instead we decided to take our time in Sequoia as it would have been too stressful to rush through both parks in one day. So we headed down the beloved mountains into California's fertile valley Saturday afternoon and with the aid of gps guidance found a chinese buffet in hot, dry Fresno. Just before sunset, we stopped at a fruit stand on our westerly route on hwy 152 and ate deliciously fresh cherries, grapes and nectarines for dessert. This road became dramatically gorgeous around Gilroy where the golden hills rose again to divide the valley from the ocean. Then the coastal redwoods guarded the best twisty turney, up and down road I've ever driven on. The difference was that the curves were banked so that you didn't feel like you were going to fall over the edges. It was like a nice smooth roller coaster. I strongly recommend this route to California coastal hwy 1. But it would be funner in a low profile sports car. Sadly it was almost dark when we got to the coast, but I could see and hear enough of the moonlit white-tipped waves crashing into the rocky coast, and smell and feel the salty, moist wind on that hilly highway to feel exaltation. The Texas coast is marshy or sandy, but flat. This was quite different.
We made our way to our hotel in southern San Francisco which we
approached along it's southern peninsula. Sunday morning we drove into the beautiful
but crowded city. It was a little nerve-racking navigating on the
one-way, steep, crowded streets and finding a place to park to attend
Liturgy.
Holy Virgin Cathedral was finished by St. John the Wonder-worker, who died a few days before I was born. We missed the English service, but the Church Slavonic was beautiful, and the choir heavenly (click here to another tab to get more of the Russian choral atmosphere). Understanding "Ghospodi pomilui"- "Lord have mercy" and "Slava"- "Glory" helped a lot. Also the Russian attendants were wonderful examples of humble, loving, devoted veneration of the Saints through their icons. Americans are much more timid and self-conscious about it. Some of the parishoners remember St. John in person and their love for him was very evident as they venerated his relics on the right side of the church and in the generous manner of the couple who gave us a tour of his original resting place below the Church. They had both been students in the Russian school surrounding the Church while he was serving there. Not that he still isn't.
I chose this icon for my Wordpress blog and wanted to add it to this one too. I believe it, or one like it, is the icon that hung in St. Seraphim's monastic cell. Today I've been reading this conversation on the Intercession of the Saints. Somehow praying for the departed is one of my most joyful obediences. It doesn't feel like work. May they pray for me too.
This icon is one of the few in which the Theotokos is depicted without Christ. But her communion with Him in Spirit is still emphasized.
Today I’m not clutching my skeleton. I gently placed him back in his resting place and I’m quietly sitting beside him so that I can keep an eye on his phosphorescent bones. Last night I had a dream that I was in the upper world and was watching a show on TV about a woman who lost her little girl to a brain tumor. She talked about how losing a child changes you forever and how you keep going because life goes on. I think some grief counseling needs to be updated with a more orthodox mindset of how life goes on for the departed as well. It seems that the goal of grieving is to get over it, and accept that the person is gone and get on with your life without them, except for remembering them how they used to be.
Orthodoxy is the only real, intelligible voice that reaches me in my cave where I live with Isaac’s skeleton. And from the dark recesses the Church sends substantial, though dimly illuminated icons of the departed, including Christ, to me. Crossing myself, bowing, and kissing them lets me experience how near the life beyond is to me right now. I don’t have to let go of the them. But I shouldn’t let go of the “living” either, which is my struggle.
Often I’m more comfortable being with the icons of the departed than the ghosts of my husband, “remaining” children, who also sometimes wander into my cave, and less, the others in my “life” who invade my dreams and nightmares.