sacrifice…

Choosing Orthodoxy is sacrifice for me.  I’ve already seen and felt that.  I think we tend to be taught in our current culture that we can and should have everything…that we can and should feel “good” in that process.  For that reason when I explain to some friends this idea that to choose this tradition feels sacrificial to me they give me odd looks. I know that as I explain it to…

philokalia…

I’ve been reading today about the Philokalia. The Philokalia is a gathering of spiritual writings which lend insights to the Bible. It is not “commentary” but more than that. I view commentary as it pertains to Scripture to be more a play by play on the Word whereas the Philokalia is not that mechanical. It’s not about understanding with our heads but with our heart.  It is not a dissection of the…

poetry among friends…

This is cross-posted at Mrs Metaphor today…just so’s you know. vespers the light surprised me I thought it would be dark murky and mysterious but the sky was open wide and airy the scent was as I had expected heady and sweet I closed my eyes the priest walked down the aisles with soft footsteps garments rustling censer clinking and I took it all into me   If only I could photograph…

push and pull…

It won’t always be like this; me spinning out again and again with the struggle and the intoxication, will it?  I feel like I’m split in two most days.  In the early part of the day I wake up and spend time in prayer. I’m excited to be there, to spend time in this way.  In the middle of the day I seek out time to be alone and pray. I find…

water…

I have the strongest urge to break away from my noisy life this week and just sit in the church.  I’ve asked Fr. G and he has said that if someone is at the church I can get in there.  I think it’s because I want some practice, some quiet.  It’s the toe in the water instead of just jumping in.  I’ve never liked just jumping in fast. Everyone says it’s the…

the holy kiss…

I’ve written about The Holy Kiss on Mrs Metaphor in the past. I’m reminded of this concept again today as I consider the idea of the veneration of icons.  This practice is one that we did not employ in the Catholic church and so the “awkward” factor kicks up a bit more around this issue. I don’t have a problem with the idea of venerating an icon, I really don’t. It might…

night…

What is it about the night that it’s able to bring such moments of doubt and sadness? I’ve always loved the night, loved the quiet it offered. Lately, though, the night has been an enemy; I’m tired but unable to sleep. The nighttime becomes an opportunity for my confusion to come to the surface. Forget the noonday demon, acedia strikes at night for me. I label acedia as “why bother.”  I’m not…