Tag Archives: noise

The universe will not stand still.

Saint Joanna the Myrrhbearer

It’s not even midmorning as I am beginning to write this post, and already my Name Day has bestowed several particular delights. One of the first was the ability to take an early walk — it seems so easy when all the conditions are right, and somehow that rarely happens anymore. Hmmm…. Note the passive phrase that flows from my mind, referring to a thing that happens, instead of an action I take. But truly, I am always choosing a direction for my heart to follow, moment by moment, as I respond to constant promptings. This morning I felt no prompting from tired bones to stay in bed, and no prompting from the fog to mope — that tipped the balance.

St. Paisios of Mount Athos

Much as I love the church calendar, and the abundance of events and people to remember and celebrate every day, I don’t always keep in sync with it, or the civil calendar for that matter. Others have told me that they also might miss their name day if someone didn’t remember it for them and wish them a “Happy Name Day!”

I received such a prompt pretty early this morning, as it came from Greece. And the next name-day greeter shared a photo of the icon above, which is by the hand of Janet Jaime, a contemporary iconographer who is new to me. The friend who wrote me from Greece included an encouraging article about holy elders and saints whose prophecies have been much discussed of late, an example being St. Paisios.

Christ praying in Gethsemane

I do think about Current Events, of course. I wouldn’t want to close myself off from what my friends are thinking about, and right now I also have a personal reason to keep at least minimally informed, in that one of my own family members is living in the Middle East and very close to the recent action. Still, it’s important to detach from the stream of noise that is the news, for even half a day, or as long as possible. Because each of us has some work God has given us to do, whether washing the morning dishes or praying on your sick bed, managing a busy restaurant or walking across the street to check on a neighbor. We should be present wherever we physically are.

Today another thing “happened” that became a celebration of my name day, which was the long-awaited lunch together that my goddaughter and I have been trying to accomplish for two years. Naturally we had set the time and place, but without either of us realizing that it was the feast day of St. Joanna, until the day arrived. We spent half the afternoon catching up, and didn’t have a spare moment to talk about events outside of our realm of influence.

Father Stephen Freeman’s blog post for today just happened to be perfect for my name day and my mood: “Everything is in Motion”:

“God’s creation (as we should well know) is everywhere in motion. Every object in the universe is moving (further apart we are told). Even the particles of matter that compose so-called stationary objects (such as rocks) are in motion. Nothing is completely at rest.”

“Everything is in motion, and everything has its direction. That direction is its purpose – its reason for existence and reason for continuing in existence. This reason is its logos. The Logos of all logoi (plural), is Christ Himself.

In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God and the Logos was God. All things were made through Him…  (John 1:1)

“Each of us has a purpose and reason for existence. For human beings (and all creation), that purpose is union with God…. We move rightly towards the end for which we were created. Salvation, like all things in God’s creation, is dynamic and not static.”

Fr. Stephen goes on to mention how “dizzying” it can be, to live in the midst of this constant swirl that is our world, and our life. He relates how monasteries on Mount Athos will at times set chandeliers swinging during services, which has been described as “representing the dancing of the angels before God.” We often do this in my parish, with four of the six chandeliers that hold real candles turning and twirling while the flames dance.

When I first experienced this I had no idea I would one day enter the Orthodox Church at that parish. I was sitting on the floor during a Vespers service, having come primarily for a weekend food fair. So much was going on in that space, people coming out and going into the altar, other people bowing before the icons or lighting candles, the choir singing beautifully, and no pause in the hymns of praises going up — that is, a lot of movement! — when my gaze was lifted up to the huge chandelier above me — at that time there being just one — which was being pushed by an altar server in such a way that it began to swing into a wide and majestic arc. I thought at the time, These are serious Christians, to worship so extravagantly.

Over the many years since then, I should have known this tradition was symbolic of something, and not just a random act of jubilation. I found a short video that shows one such otherworldly occasion, where multiple chandeliers are in motion, on the Holy Mountain: The Dance of the Cherubim.

You may find it a little jarring, as I did, when phones and cameras other than the one making that video come into view. But I comforted myself knowing that since the angels are immaterial, they are not able to be seen in person or caught in a video unless they choose to take on a material form. But they are probably too busy doing their work of crying “Holy!”, carrying messages, and dancing, to bother about our devices — at least the material kind.

My day is now coming to an end, and it’s time to bring this post to a full stop. The universe is still in motion, I know, but my rational mind and my fingers will cease moving for a few hours. Thank you, St. Joanna, whose name I bear, for your example in actively following Christ in His earthly life, and for your prayers. Thanks be to God for the many ways I have felt His movement, pulling me in, and giving me the strength and will to respond. It feels very much as though I am in The Dance.

It was a time of stifling.

PERIOD

It was a time when wise men
Were not silent, but stifled
By vast noise.  They took refuge
In books that were not read.
Two counsellors had the ear
Of the public.  One cried ‘Buy’
Day and night, and the other,
More plausibly, ‘Sell your repose.’

R. S. Thomas, 1913 -2000 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With thanks to Stephen Pentz,
who has all the best poems.
Illustration by Johan van Hell.

 

Pure words and healing.

Current events had got me musing about words, silence, speech, and idle talk, even before my dear friend Myriah came to visit. She and I grant each other the exercise of free speech, even civil discourse, but I found that more than those are required by the law of  love. I hope to write further on these topics soon, though I feel woefully inadequate. Meanwhile…

After Myriah had gone home, she wrote to thank me, and to apologize for what she thought was her own “noise” as she “tried to make sense of everything.” She said, “I came home and planned to curl up and read the Bible.” But family demands prevented her. I realized that I had robbed her of what should have been a respite from confusion, talking as I had as though raging and clanging could be truly rational. Probably we should have spent some part of our two-day visit reading the Gospel together. (The garden did rescue us several times.)

These were my thoughts this Saturday morning, as I prepared to attend Divine Liturgy for the Leavetaking of Pentecost. I was present to receive Communion, but I had read the Gospel for the day at home. It washed over me as a healing balm, not because its subject matter or meaning are any more pertinent than they have ever been, but because I know the Speaker to be Truth and Love incarnate, and His speech is in stark contrast to the loudest human sounds that accost our ears and eyes. I remembered this verse:

The words of the LORD are pure words,
like silver refined in an earthen furnace,
purified seven times.
-Psalm 12:6

The Psalmist does not mean that God has to make seven rough drafts before He speaks, but that even our most refined and precious earthly things are only “something like” the Logos. These words of Christ from what is called “The Sermon on the Mount” were the Gospel reading for the day:

Give to the one who asks you, and do not reject the one who wants to borrow from you. 

You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor’ and ‘hate your enemy.’  But I say to you, love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be like your Father in heaven, since he causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.  

For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Even the tax collectors do the same, don’t they? And if you only greet your brothers, what more do you do? Even the Gentiles do the same, don’t they?

So then, be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

The wave is breaking in a deep sea.

The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.
-Vladimir Nabokov

On Sunday I taught my first Zoom church school class, on St. Thomas. That was after tuning in, and trying to tune my spirit, to the streamed Divine Liturgy in the morning. In the later afternoon about twenty of us women met on Zoom to chat for an hour and to chose the next book for those of us who read together. Before sundown, I picked peas.

All day my mind was trying to pull me away from that present moment’s demands, but not totally — because it seemed to be doing that which is its natural skill, to weave the latest input from that very moment into the grid of experience and memory. I do not at all like the idea of my mind being like a computer, but the concept of fragmented files occurs to me…

Keeping the contents in a cohesive, organized fashion is a challenging project at my age, when the “files” have mushroomed, and my “processor” is trying to save a hundred bits of data every day to the most logical place. I have an astounding human mind, which sees way more connections between all those thoughts and images and stories than a simple machine could ever do. It is constantly clumping and re-clumping and arranging things, all the while thinking in sentences about its strategies.

This afternoon my godmother came through the gate to my garden, and we visited across the patio for an hour. I shared a smidgen of the last few days, and how it seemed that about five blog posts were churning in a mass in my head, trying to sort themselves out.

Since she went home, I’ve been halfheartedly applying myself to the task, but there is so much I want to write. It seems hard now, during this world pandemic, to sift through all the noise, or turn one’s back on it, in order to hear communications from reliable and helpful sources. And the Source.

In my attempts today, I came upon the idea of making use of my large store of quotes, many of which are thought provoking on many levels and might come to my aid in keeping at my blog and my writing. Even if some days I can’t write one good and pertinent sentence, I might post a quote that helps at least me, and you can make of it what you will.

It may be that my own mind is like an ocean that is too turbulent for me to see anything clearly in the water, but that’s not why I chose the quote above. It brought to mind all the many statistics and news stories, sermons and anecdotes and directives flowing all around us, by which some people I know are trying to figure out, not just how to behave today, but what is The Meaning of it all.