A Liturgical Way

A middle-aged cantor was chanting psalms from the Bible as I entered the sanctuary of Holy Trinity -St. Nicholas Greek

Mosaic in the ceiling: Jesus, Pantekrator

Orthodox Church in Finneytown, Cincinnati.  

            The room was wide and large windows with stained glass icons allowed much light.  A great mosaic of the Lord Jesus was hovering over us in the ceiling. The depiction of Jesus gave a comforting and reassuring feeling, for he was strong, but not stern. He was fully grown with beard, the resurrected Jesus, the one who conquered death. It is not the image, the icon, I worship, but the real Jesus Christ, who was, is and will be, the eternal God.  In the niche was there Theotokos: Mother and child; but the Child was already a ruler, and He was central.

            Iconostasis: There is a most holy place, behind the screen, and only the priests and other servants enter in and out of it. I can share what I witnessed, but explanations of it may come at a later time, for I am reading up on it. There are side gates and the main gate. The main gate is under the cross, through Jesus. The icons on the iconostasis pictured Jesus, John the Baptist and Mary. Next to them were angels.

           

Iconostasis, with gates open

The liturgy is full of prayer and praise, and one thing is clear: God is great in His majesty. We become humble in His presence. The room, the incense, the prayers, the chants and songs, the movements and steps of the priests, the drawing of the cross over our bodies, all directed me toward God. The Gospel was read, after a procession in the sanctuary, where the gilded Bible was lifted high and held with deep respect. The young priest held the large book in front of his face, covering himself from sight, and read the passage with a clear and strong voice.  This is deliberate; it is not the priest who is in focus, but the Word of God. Jesus speaks to us.

            The homily, or sermon, was direct, from the text, delivered with authority and conviction. I liked it, but it struck me in the heart.  I knew the truth in my life, as well. It was based on the story where Jesus meets men who were demon possessed, and where the demons recognize Jesus, and he drives them out of the men and into a swineherd, which then runs to its destruction in a ravine. Demons exist, and there are other forms of spiritual opposition. Anyone and anything that does not welcome Christ is a challenge. Jesus is by far stronger than any other spiritual power. He has conquered them all and they await their destruction. God is faithful. He is strong warrior, and I may take refuge in His protection. 

            The respect for God and His Word resonated a longing in me, and I knew again that discussions about the validity of the Bible, in its given form, are futile and must be countered. God is. Jesus is. The Holy Spirit is. All the intellectual energy of this world, all scribes and Sadducees of our day who do not believe in the risen Lord Jesus, fail.

            I felt at home in this church. It was not strange or unnatural to make the sign of the cross over my body, and I have done this for years – the Orthodox way.

            I felt at home, even thought I did not partake in the Eucharist with the rest. I had not gone through the prescribed preparations for receiving the elements, so I made it a time of prayer, as I come before the Lord just as I am.

I did, however, have coffee and baklava with the congregation afterwardsJ

Presently I am reading in the following books: “The Holy Place. Architecture, Ideology, and History in Russia” by Akhinsa & Kozlov; “The Orthodox Veneration of the Mother of God” by St. John Maximovitch; “ Guide to the Divine Liturgy” by Krantz; “The Orthodox Way” by Kallistos Ware, and a small pocket size blue prayer book called “My Orthodox Prayer Book”J

Quote of the Day:

“Postmodern life could be described as a state in which everything beyond our own personal biography seems vague, blurred and somehow unreal. The world is full of signs and information, which stand for things that no one fully understands because they, too, turn out to be mere signs for other things. Yet the real thing remains hidden. No one ever gets to see it. Nevertheless, I am convinced that real things do exist, however endangered they may be. There are earth and water, the light of the sun, landscapes and vegetation; and there are objects made by man, such as machines, tools or musical instruments, which are what they are, which are not mere vehicles for an artistic message, and whose presence is self-evident”

(Peter Zumthor: “Thinking Architecture”, p.16)

                                                                                           

Jason Marsalis on xylophone

Delfeayo Marsalis

In Washington Park by Music Hall in downtown Cincinnati we happened upon an outdoor concert with two of the Marsalis brothers, a sweet Saturday evening jazz concert in open air. Yes, they were real people playing real instruments.            

The Swiss architect, Peter Zumthor, addresses a vital question in our day and age, and he states the obvious. We have been pushed into confusion about what is real by theorists of language, of relativist thinkers, and lost a grip on the obvious. Without a solid base in language, we have a hard time expressing anything of meaning. It is complex to clearly define values. Words of conviction become mere opinions.  In such a fog there is a cry for a 'strong-man', someone who clearly defines the real. Politically, we may fear despotism. But I believe in one that is stronger: God. Jesus will reign. He judges between us, for He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Themes of Art: The More Meaningful

I went to the Cincinnati art museum today, together with Jon and Abigail and a couple of their friends. I like looking at art, like relating, interacting – even in a museum. The architecture of a museum hardly invites to the natural encounter with the art on display, since it is an artificial setting. A museum is built to expose paintings and sculptures. The artwork is taken out of its origin, setting, and hung on a wall in a room.

            I looked at local art, and found the themes rather bleak. I walked by stillebens, and was not interested. Ok, fruit is fruit. Yes, I know the moments of truth, of aletheia, but the theme as such seemed superfluous to me today.

            Some portraits captured me, because the person in the picture expressed something I could not quite grasp. But it is a person. A person is always interesting. I stopped by a landscape painting of a wild river pouring into the sea. I went close, not because the picture spoke to me, but I am always curious to see what technique the artist has used to create the image, so I go close and stare at colours, textures, brush strokes.

            There were sections of religious art, buddhas, bodhisattvas, saints in the Buddhist tradition. But they are only people, I thought, and was quite critical. I hurried by the Hindu section without pausing. Idolatry. Yes, I was rather strict today. I came into the section for Islamic art, and relaxed. It is mostly decorative, with tile work and non-religious depictions, apart from calligraphy with Quranic sayings.

Francesco Botticini (1446-1497) Italy Madonna and Child

            It was not until I came upstairs and was met with Catholic Christian images, an elaborate altar piece with several stories from the Bible, that I settled, and found the theme to be satisfying. I also stared at the utter beauty of Mary. Baby Jesus was mostly a plump naked boy with cute curls, and I was not so enamoured with the depiction of Him. I know he once was a child, but the admiration from Mary lingered in my soul. It is the way it is: the believer will by necessity adore and admire Jesus. He is our hope, our life, our wisdom, and in Him are all the treasure of wisdom apparent. To me, Mary was a symbol of all who believe, and Jesus is God, no matter how the artists wanted to portray Him. Isaiah testifies about Him:

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”(Isaiah 9:6)

The Fellowship

A Gladstone Community House

          I was with my family to the Gladstone Community again this evening. The Community is a fellowship of Christian believers who live together in different houses in the local neighbourhood of Mariemont. They practice the 'common purse' idea, and each contribute as he or she is able, and each is fully covered and receives the same sum in pocket money.They own businesses, like home repair and lawn care, and are planning for a coffee shop. They run an orphanage here in town, and also in a mission abroad. They provide housing for widows and young families. They take in foster care children, and they have a nice set-up for individuals with a troubled past. There is a lot of time for fellowship, for common meals and common time for worship, for bible study, discussion groups, teaching sessions...and friendship. Most of the participants are single young people in their mid to late 20ties, and early 30ties.

At Mariemont Community Church

          In church today we listened to the testimony and story of Brother Hussein, a former Muslim who had come to faith in Jesus and who had been in Christian ministry for many years. He shared how Jesus had revealed himself to him, like in a vision, and he had become a new being in Christ. He shared about the power and work of the Holy Spirit in his witness to Muslims. I was touched by the deep and sincere love this brother had for people, and how he reached out and shared the news about Jesus.

          Before the message there was time for communion, for prayer around the sharing of bread and grape juice. They sought each other out, prayed together, confessed sins to each other, and ate the communion bread, dipped in the juice, together. It was a time of catharsis, a time for forgiveness.

          After the message, there was time for prayer. Huddled together in groups of three or four, we prayed for the people in the Muslim world, some we knew, some we included in the general prayer. We prayed for the Christians who live among Muslims in the Middle East, and for their persecutors. A dim buzz was heard in the sanctuary, the sound of people praying softly.

          Then there was time for more song and worship. Strong arms in the air, lifting 'holy hands' to God. Some were on their knees, in a stance of adoration. The whole group of people sang in unison at the end, with all guitars and drums, keyboard and base resting, and the the last chapter of the book of Revelation was read out loud, as a final benediction. And the congregation voiced the "Come" two times.

          Form and content are influencing each other. The form of the worship service opens or closes expressions. In this context, there was room for people to exercise their spiritual gifts of different sorts.The gifts of the Holy Spirit have a function in building up the community of believers, to strengthen their faith in God, to encourage them in the daily life with God, to instruct them in the things of God.

          Personally I like to make the motions of the cross over my body, in Orthodox fashion, because it tells me that I belong to Christ from my mind to my belly, through my heart, and in my soul. I sneaked the motions in, but it felt a bit foreign. I thought about the way we share communion at home, and I cherish coming to the altar ring, kneeling, being in quiet prayer and confession, receiving the elements, hearing the comforting words of absolution... God is there, and we worship in in different forms.

Gladstone Community Welcome

           I have wondered, though, if we give ample opportunity for people to exercise their spiritual gifts. How do we encourage each other in the faith? When is there room for words of wisdom, for sharing knowledge, for caring for each other, for prophesy, for miracles (?!)... Are we captured in the rational way of thinking, of striving to be scientific in our outlook? Do we seek honour from men rather than from God?

           And what about volunteering time, effort, money, etc.? Some are contributing, but why are we not all doing that? What sort of volunteering am I thinking of? Now, let's talk. I do not intend to define the fellowship; that must be found in community with each other.

Entitled to Happiness?

She is rich, smart and beautiful. Therefore she sees herself entitled to be happy.

What is the problem with this? For one, it is a lie. Second, what is happiness?

If anyone is entitled to be happy, all are.

Naturally, this brings up the question: what is happiness? Is it primarily a feeling, a sweet enjoyment of the moment? Is it primarily an act, satisfaction of want or need?

Is it a rational expression?   Or is it a state of being, an underlying contentment?

What makes me happy? Frankly, there are many things, but the more important factors are those which are benefitting others, and not myself. It is a great satisfaction in giving, helping, sharing, because it is an expression of love. Happiness is expressing love to fellow beings. Another thing is the satisfaction of a job well done, a finished project, a task mastered.  There is happiness in work, in doing things.

            Aesthetics, the contemplation of beauty, in music, poetry, artwork, design, architecture, the moments of sudden beauty in the ordinary, this contemplation is a great source of happiness, as a feeling, a sweet enjoyment of the moment. To enjoy the beauty of another person is in this category, also to enjoy friendship, kinship, being kindred spirits, and the sweet development of love between a man and a woman, is in in this category.

            Happiness is also a choice, in choosing to be content with who you are and what you have. It is a state of being.

            What it is not is a rational sense of entitlement: “I deserve to be happy, because…”Being rich, smart and beautiful will not give anyone any further rights in the realm of happiness, but anyone is free to chose the way of serving others, of savouring the beauty of the given, and endorse what you cannot change with contentment.

Now, you may wonder: why did I not say: God makes me happy? Jesus gives me life and joy and happiness. Yes, indeed, He does. I do believe, though, that it is a human trait to be happy and seek happiness. Jesus is the best example of shoving love: he gave himself fully for us. Because I am loved, I can show love; because I am satisfied in my inner being, I can share my happiness. Perhaps I may ponder this aspect further another time.