Monthly Archives: February 2022

For what purpose?

love, quotes, ,

For what purpose does the Lord add day after day, year after year, to our existence? In order that we may gradually put away, cast aside, evil from our souls, each one his own, and acquire blessed simplicity; in order that we may become truly gentle; in order that we may learn not to have the least attachment to earthly things, but as loving and simple children may cling with all our hearts, all our souls, and all our thoughts, to God alone, and so to love Him, and our neighbor as ourselves. Let us therefore hasten to pray to the Lord, fervently and with tears, to grant us simplicity of heart, and let us strive by every means to cast out the evil from our souls.

-St John of Kronstadt

Sunday of The Prodigal Son

church, poetry, , , ,

I found this poem on Maria Horvath’s blog more than ten years ago, and have kept her introductory words attached. This week in the Orthodox Church we remember the story of the Prodigal Son. I noticed that this poem can be sung, if you want, to the same tune as “Amazing Grace.”

Today’s poem, “The Prodigal Son,” tells of a father’s unconditional love for his son. It was written by John Newton (1725-1807). He is the former slave trader who became famous for “Amazing Grace,” the folk hymn that also examines the nature of forgiveness, his own in this case:

Amazing grace! (how sweet the sound)
That sav’d a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

The poem recounts the story of one of Christ’s best-known parables. The younger of two sons asks his father for the share of his inheritance, only to squander it all on loose living. Humiliated and desperate, he comes crawling back to his family.

THE PRODIGAL SON

Afflictions, though they seem severe;
In mercy oft are sent;
They stopped the prodigal’s career,
And forced him to repent.

Although he no relentings felt
Till he had spent his store;
His stubborn heart began to melt
When famine pinched him sore.

What have I gained by sin, he said,
But hunger, shame, and fear;
My father’s house abounds with bread,
While I am starving here.

I’ll go, and tell him all I’ve done,
And fall before his face
Unworthy to be called his son,
I’ll seek a servant’s place.

His father saw him coming back,
He saw, and ran, and smiled;
And threw his arms around the neck
Of his rebellious child.

Father, I’ve sinned — but O forgive!
I’ve heard enough, he said,
Rejoice my house, my son’s alive,
For whom I mourned as dead.

Now let the fatted calf be slain,
And spread the news around;
My son was dead, but lives again,
Was lost, but now is found.

’Tis thus the Lord his love reveals,
To call poor sinners home;
More than a father’s love he feels,
And welcomes all that come.

-John Newton

Turn the poet out of door.

my garden, nature, other gardens, poetry, , , , , , , ,

It’s the “false spring” one day, and the next, not. When I was at church to bake communion bread, it was spring for sure. Of course the dough knew it, and behaved accordingly.

Yesterday, the wind and various other factors contributed to further thaw the bones of my soul. While I was in my own garden trimming the lemon tree, pomegranate bushes, lavender and a few other plants, a series of great gusts came up suddenly, and made a clattering of doors and toys and other blowing-around stuff in the neighborhood.

The poem below doesn’t originate in my area of the country, so it will never perfectly fit the weather here, but I love the spirit of it, and I’m sure it will please a few of you in more northerly parts of the world. If you tend to be impatient with poems, try reading this one out loud.

TO THE THAWING WIND

Come with rain, O loud Southwester!
Bring the singer, bring the nester;
Give the buried flower a dream;
Make the settled snowbank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;
But whate’er you do tonight,
Bathe my window, make it flow,
Melt it as the ice will go;
Melt the glass and leave the sticks
Like a hermit’s crucifix;
Burst into my narrow stall;
Swing the picture on the wall;
Run the rattling pages o’er;
Scatter poems on the floor;
Turn the poet out of door.

-Robert Frost

Because we haven’t had any rain in several weeks — or has it turned into months? — I had to put the hose on potted plants that aren’t on the automatic drip system. Hidden behind one big pot, this little great-grandbaby of a cactus I started was in full baby bloom. I brought her indoors to brighten up my kitchen, still lit also by the fairy lights, which are there for the days when spring is clearly not. yet.

Find the door of your heart.

prayer, quotes

When in my last post I shared only two paragraphs from a whole book on prayer, and those two said nothing about prayer, I ought to have given some context! When questions came in, I thought I would open my copy of Beginning to Pray and see what Metropolitan Anthony had said just before or after those puzzling words. But it must be one of those books I have given away; I will have to buy another. But in the meantime, I want to try to make up for a presentation that was confusing by being too truncated.

When I first came into the Orthodox Church and asked my priest confessor a question about prayer — I don’t remember what exactly — he recommended that I read “anything that Anthony Bloom has written on the subject.” Our church bookstore had some titles and I think Beginning to Pray was the first one I read. I’ve also read his Living Prayer and Courage to Pray.

My praying up to that point in my life was mostly not the kind of prayer that Met. Anthony encourages us to explore. The perspective of his teachings was incredibly refreshing. I think the foundation of it all is “Blessed are the poor in spirit….” I found some quotes from the same book online, such as this one, in which he talks about that empty, needy feeling:

“The day when God is absent, when He is silent – that is the beginning of prayer. Not when we have a lot to say, but when we say to God ‘I can’t live without You, why are You so cruel, so silent?’”

It may be that this awareness of one’s need for God evolves out of feeling “boredom” with ourselves. But I am not one to explain prayer; I’m definitely at the beginning to pray stage. Met. Anthony makes it clear that you need to just do it.

Here are a few more excerpts from Beginning to Pray:

“St. John Chrysostom said ‘Find the door of your heart, you will discover it is the door of the kingdom of God.‘ So it is inward that we must turn, and not outward – but inward in a very special way. I’m not saying that we must become introspective. I don’t mean that we must go inward in the way one does in psychoanalysis or psychology. It is not a journey into my own inwardness, it is a journey through my own self, in order to emerge from the deepest level of self into the place where He is, the point at which God and I meet.”

“I have tried to point out, first of all, that your prayer must be turned inwards, not towards a God of Heaven nor towards a God far off, but towards God who is closer to you than you are aware; and secondly, that the first act of prayer is to choose such words of prayer as are completely true to what you are, words which you are not ashamed of, which express you adequately and are worthy of you – and then offer them to God with all the intelligence of which you are capable.”

“You cannot, having never prayed before, start with eighteen hours of dialogue and prayer with God continuously like this while you do other things. But you can easily single out one or two moments and put all your energy into them. Simply turn your eyes Godwards, smile at Him and go into it. There are moments when you can tell God ‘I simply must have a rest, I have not strength to be with You all the time,’ which is perfectly true. You are still not capable of bearing God’s company all the time. Well, say so. God knows that perfectly well, whatever you do about it. Go apart, say for a moment ‘I’ll just have a rest. For a moment I accept to be less saintly.’”

“One of the dangers in prayer is to try to find words that will be somehow on the level of God. Unfortunately, as none of us are on a level with God, we fall short and waste a great deal of time in trying to find the right words.”

There are several videos of Metropolitan Anthony online, giving the talks from which his books were compiled. Below is a link to a good one that I have listened to before; now I am listening again, and it is fascinating and at times entertaining. Even if you only watch ten minutes, I think it will bring life to his words, to hear him and see his kind face.

This is it: Prayer in the Christian Life

Thank you so much for your comments! I loved the unique experience and viewpoint of each of you, and was glad for the prompt to share more insights of this good teacher.
May God help us to pray!