Category Archives: church

A belated letter from Lent.

I’d like to catch up here about a few of the things that happened, and that I did, during the several weeks I was absent from the blogging world. These are the kinds of things you can take pictures of, so they are not many, considering all the hours and days we are talking about. It often happened that I would think to take a picture somewhere, but then I would think, “I’m not blogging, so I don’t really need a picture of that.” And it was nice. Life is full. Here are some of the ways my days were full of life:

Birthdays: I cooked for two of the birthday parties that I attended. One of my accomplishments in this department was a batch of vegan gluten-free chocolate cupcakes, which the party-goers thought wonderful; I ate two of them myself. The picture is from before they went into the oven. You might guess that there were beets in the batter!

Later I drove north for grandson Jamie’s 11th birthday, and took the job of baking the cake he remembers always being the tradition for his day, a “Black Forest Cake” made with a box mix, whipped cream, and canned cherry pie filling. The top layer of my version was so domed, I had to create a lake from the whipped cream to hold the cherries. No one should be surprised to find a lake in the Black Forest, right?

Up there, spring was early, and when we took walks in the woods we encountered dogwood flowers a month before they’d normally be seen. And a trillium. I am rarely in a place to see trilliums when they are newly opened, so that was wonderful.

Other cooking: A bigger project than the birthday baking was for church. I took a whole day to experiment at home in an effort to figure out how to get a consistently good imprint on the tops of our altar bread that we call prosphora.

And I learned a lot, though the huge batch of dough (it used 20+ cups of flour) from which I  made four sizes of breads, overwhelmed my kitchen — or more precisely, my mind, as I scrambled to keep track of timers and squeeze everything into my oven.

It seemed pretty chaotic for a while, but the end result was quite satisfactory, Glory to God! It was on St. Patrick’s Day, and I had been to church that morning so as to start my project off right. Thank you, Saint Patrick!

Reading: You can see from the sidebar that I read several books, but the one I most wanted to read for “lenten reading” I haven’t finished yet. It’s Transfiguring Time by Olivier Clément, and is a beautiful complement to the joy of Pascha, as the author’s own joy at the Christian message shines through every page. Clément was born in 1921 in France, and spent his 20’s exploring the religions of the East, in particular India. He became somewhat of an expert on ancient cosmologies and their concept of time, and when he discovered the Christian faith as elucidated by Vladimir Lossky, he saw the huge contrast. I’m sure I’ll share some quotes from Clément later.

Little breads for church feasts: For the feast of the 40 Martyrs of Sebaste I decided to bake Lark Buns for my church school class.

40 Martyrs Sebaste

The symbolism has to do with larks in springtime, but also the spirits of the martyrs flying up to heaven. You have to bake 40 of them, of course, so quite a few were left over to pass around to a few people at the agape meal. That was fun.

At the very end of Lent, on Palm Sunday, to commemorate Lazarus Saturday which was the day before, the cooks who prepared the agape meal made a batch of Lazarus Buns. They are just as cute!

In the garden: We had a couple of very warm weeks in March, and around the date of the equinox, when weather returned to normal, it was as though summer had ended and spring had arrived. It was easy to be out of doors during that special time. I had organized my seeds…

…and planted several 3″ pots with winter squash: kabocha, butternut and Delicata. Because of there being so much sunshine and high temps, I was able to leave them outdoors much of the time. Just before recent rains I set them out into the garden, and if we don’t get any killing frosts I should end up with a good supply of squash in the fall.

I harvested plenty of greens and they were delicious. The Chinese Broccoli towered over the garden bed and swayed prettily, scattering its flower petals around, but I didn’t get very much in the way of the broccoli part from it, and the larger leaves were bitter.

The Tasmanian Flax is blooming this spring, after readying itself for three years, and I am thrilled. Each flower is exquisite and dainty, and there are hundreds of them, so we can expect a slew of berries in a few months.

Now I must check out what my fellow bloggers have been doing the last two months ❤

The Eighth Day that is Bright Week.

Christ is risen! Indeed He is risen!

This week after Pascha is called both Bright Week and The Eighth Day. Here is the explanation for that:

“When God created the universe, He rested on the 7th day, the Sabbath (Saturday). But, when Jesus rose from the grave, it was on the day after the Sabbath (the day after the 7th). Therefore, Jesus rose from the grave on the 8th day, He became the first-fruits of the new creation, the one unified with God, as the joyful sign and promise of the everlasting “Bright Week” in paradise…a never-ending week of brightness. The entire Bright Week is considered to be one continuous day.”

The photo above shows the altar doors as they are now, open all week, with the ceremonial artos bread that stays in that spot throughout this extended (8th) Day. On Thomas Sunday, the week after Pascha, we slice it up and pass it around to all the parishioners. It’s a very special recipe with lots of flavors and ingredients that keep it quite moist all week.

As with Holy Week, it seems like the best thing would be to just Be in Church for the seven days whole Day, but of course no one can do that. We must bask in the glow of Pascha wherever we are, and let His brightness shine out. Glory to God!

Proteas given to me on my birthday.

Endlessly gently in his hands.

Egon Schiele, Four Trees

Today is Saturday, and I am attending a wedding, which is a cause for joy. According to statistics, 70% of weddings are held on Saturdays these days, but in the Orthodox Church Sunday is the preferred day. Sunday is The Lord’s Day since the Resurrection, and the day for celebration and feasting, while Saturday is the day of rest, when we remember those who have fallen asleep in death and rest in their graves. Here is another poem that ties the remembrance of death to the season, and to the One who mitigates our sorrow over it.

AUTUMN

The leaves are falling, falling as from far off,
as though far gardens withered in the skies;
they are falling with denying gestures.

And in the nights the heavy earth is falling
from all the stars down into loneliness.

We are all falling. This hand falls.
And look at others; it is in them all.

And yet there is One who holds this falling
endlessly gently in his hands.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

From Uncreated Light to electrics.

For it is the God who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
-II Corinthians 4:6

My priest mentioned in a homily recently that the verse above was his favorite; of course that made me pay close attention to it. Soon afterward I read an article by the iconographer Aidan Hart, “Lighting in Orthodox Churches: Liturgical Principles and Practical Ideas,” which has kept me thinking on this Light … and I’m certain I could benefit from further meditation on Hart’s ideas — because they flow from the truth that Christ Himself stated, that He is The Light of the World.

How do we reflect this reality symbolically when choosing physical lighting for our churches? And how might lighting help us to worship or distract us? If any of these questions is interesting to you, you might like to read the whole article, which I have linked above and below. Or skip the text and look only at the more than two dozen photographs of most beautiful churches and monasteries — and one mosque — illustrating the principles that Hart discusses. I especially loved the photo showing alabaster windows such as this one:

Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, Ravenna

Hart reminds us that “The Church is ultimately a community of persons and not a building.” It follows that “Its light should illuminate the personal rather than the abstract.” He compares the needs of monasteries to those of parish churches, and The Blue Mosque to Hagia Sophia. The pros and cons of natural light, candles, oil lamps and electric lights are discussed; he explains how an environment with quiet light can help us to “learn the art of stillness, watchfulness, interiority.”

I’ll close with one paragraph that is rich with theological principles worth musing on, and leave you to click on the link for the whole article:

The second century neo-Platonist Plotinus wrote that “beauty is symmetry irradiated by life”. This was interpreted by the Byzantines as symmetry irradiated by light, for light was regarded an image of divine, animating and transfiguring life. But this Byzantine aesthetic of moving rather than static light was ultimately rooted in Trinitarian theology. The uncreated light of divine love is One, but it is also dynamic, moving within the Trinity and moving down to creation. Of course the term moving is a human concept and is ultimately inapplicable to God, who has no need to move from place to place. But the term is applicable inasmuch as it reminds us that God is not a single monad, that God is love because He is Three. Christian beauty is therefore rooted in relationship rather than an abstract and static ideal. And this can be reflected in church lighting.

-Aidan Hart, “Lighting in Orthodox Churches: Liturgical Principles and Practical Ideas”

St Demetrios Church, Thessaloniki (not taken by me)