Pictures of Our Bishop's Visit

Our Bishop Benjamin (OCA) paid his first "dedicated visit" to our Mission this past weekend. Before this he would spend Vespers with us and we would close our Mission and join him at Sts. Peter and Paul parish in Phoenix for liturgy on Sunday. This was the first time since I was ordained a sub-deacon that I was somewhat responsible for attending to the Bishop. Since I've never actually been the "proto sub deacon" at a heirarchical liturgy, Bp. Benjamin brought Sdn. Johann from the cathedral with him to "assist" us...which means he taught us how to do it. This is the final "huddle"with all the altar servers on Sunday morning before Bp. Benjamin arrived. (Sdn. Johann is the second from the left).
This is me and Sdn. Matthew from the local Antiochian Church preparing the Bishop's vestments. They are folded in a certain way so when we vest the Bishop they go on in the right order and easily.
This is the beginning of the service and vesting of the Bishop. This is what Metropolitan Jonah refers to when he says, "Its no wonder Bishops have big heads...when they enter a Church people dress them like a Byzantine emperor and sing to them that they hope they live forever..." One of the things you don't want to do is get nervous and get started on the wrong button, like I did last year when I assisted at Sts. Peter and Paul.


Sdn. Johann and I finish the vesting without any glitches.
The Bishop is vested and gives his blessing...he also blessed our new building this morning. (Yes, that is me...without the candles.)
Prayers...
And blessings...
One of the hardest things to learn as a sub-deacon is which candles go in which hand and when. I know the three branched always goes to his right hand. Depending on the part of the liturgy we either hand the two and three branched candles to the Bishop facing the altar or the congregation, so they are placed on the altar accordingly (and depending on where we are in the liturgy they are either lit or not. ) Sdn. Matthew and I got this one right.
The Bishop consecrates and serves communion when he visits. The parish priests are his "hands", so when the Bishop is present the priests are wallflowers and the deacons and subdeacons do most of the liturgical work with the Bishop.
And he gives the final blessings.

For the full pictorial go HERE. Thanks to Paul aka. Bagwhan Dos for his fine photo journalism.

Bishop Humor

Bishop Benjamin (OCA) visited our Mission this past weekend. He is a wonderful Pastor and always has great stories (as well as pastoral teaching and advice).

During the liturgy when the Bishop is finishing the preparation of the Eucharistic gifts before the Great Entrance, each person serving at the altar comes up to him and kisses his shoulder and says his name so that he can commemorate them, then they take their place in the line for the procession. One of our altar servers was our priest's five year old grandson.

At lunch Bp. Benjamin told us that when he was a deacon serving at a heirarchical liturgy, each person went to the Bishop and kissed his shoulder, but there was a young boy about six years old serving who could not reach his shoulder, so he kissed the Bishop on his backside then took his place in line. The Bishop looked at Deacon Benjamin and winked and said, "That boy will go far..."

Gary Update

It has been a week since Gary was admitted into the hospital. His condition plummeted each day. He had a seizure and they added dilantin to his morphine. Every day they raise his morphine dosage. I visit him every morning and evening and if I have no work I sit with him in the afternoons. He is in and out of conciousness and picks up on conversations from hours or days before. He isn't lucid long enough to get through the living will in one sitting. He's concerned about his homeless and rehab ministry being carried on and he has ordained me to take it over in the event of his death. It is an honor that he has given me that charge.

Bishop Benjamin went with me and Fr. Damian (our priest whom Gary loves) and Bill Gould to visit Gary on Saturday during our heirarchical parish picnic. We took Gary a cheeseburger and some brisket.

Of course, as soon as something like this happens I pick up a lot of work, so I'm juggling visiting Gary and keeping three projects going. Yesterday Fr. Damian spent most of the day with him. We've joked with Gary for a couple years about baptizing him and getting him into a "black dress". He hand wrote a sign for his hospital room: "No men in black dresses carrying water will be allowed in this room." He told me he wished he could live longer to talk to me more about Orthodoxy since we both came from the same protestant tradition. Fr. Damian called me and told me that Gary wishes to be chrismated. If he dies, we will bury him at St. Paisius Monastery where my father in law is buried (and I will be buried, but after I'm dead...)

The medical update is a mixed bag. The lump in his lung is pre-cancerous. They don't know if he has cancer anywhere else, or what is causing the excruciating pain. He has an anuerism at the base of his brain. His kidneys have ceased functioning. They don't know the condition of his heart yet because his health is so bad he can't do a stress test, and he is allergic to the nuclear iodine dye and is too big to fit into a full body MRI machine.

He wanted me to be the person to make his "end of life decisions" on his living will, but because he wants to will his ministry and its assets to me I cannot do that (no one who stands to "financially benefit" from someone's death can make end of life decisions...makes sense.) We've found another friend of his that is willing to do that for him.

The hospital doctor said they are pretty much at the end of their resources. He might be discharged in a few days and will have to go to a nursing home and be treated on an outpatient basis for each individual issue, heart, kidney, cancer, brain and unknown pain. The hospital he is in is an abomination. I won't even try to tell all the neglect and carelessness I've seen in the last week. Unfortunately the only way to get moved is for Gary to request it, but he is too drugged up. We will be trying to get him moved to a better hospital tomorrow one way or another.

If you pray, please do so for us all.

Malcolm Muggeridge Quote

The final paragraph of Malcolm Muggeridge’s essay ‘The Great Liberal Death Wish" on life at the end of the 20th century:

"As the astronauts soar into the vast eternities of space on earth the garbage piles higher, as the groves of academe extend their domain, their alumni’s arms reach lower, as the phallic cult spreads, so does impotence. In great wealth, great poverty; in health, sickness, in numbers, deception. Gorging, left hungry; sedated, left restless; telling all, hiding all; in flesh united, forever separate. So we press on through the valley of abundance that leads to the wasteland of satiety, passing through the gardens of fantasy; seeking happiness ever more ardently, and finding despair ever more surely."

H/T to Fr. John Chagnon

Facing Mortality, Yet Again

Gary runs a non denominational Christian drug and alcohol rehab shelter. His men helped us build our Church. Ironically Gary was a minister at the church of Christ that I got "disfellowshipped" from 6 years before he came on board. We met him at a city interfaith event. We've done Vespers at the shelter, his men come to our Mission for Bible study and services once in a while. Gary says of all the Churches they visit they like ours the most.

Gary and his men have been helping us get our property ready for our first Bishop's visit this weekend. I saw one of his men Wednesday afternoon and he said Gary was having some chest pains. I asked him if he called 911. He said, no...Gary went home to rest and was coming back later to finish moving their stuff to the back lot. I called Gary's cell and no answer. Not a good sign. I went to his house, no one home...maybe a better sign, at least I didn't have to break the door down. I found Gary at 7:30pm in our Church parking lot sitting in his van. He was trying to move a trailer out of sight to the back lot. He looked like hell. I told him, "You're going to the hospital, right now...moving a pile of trash for our Bishop is not worth your life." He looked at me and said, "You're not going to let me out of this are you?" I said, "No. I'll drag you out of this van and carry you there if I have to." (He weighs 350 pounds). "Thanks," he said. And we went to the emergency room.

I sat with Gary tonight for a couple hours. He's in a lot of pain and they are still running tests. At 64 he's facing his mortality. We talked about DNR's, living wills, worst case what will become of the men in his program, who will make the final decisions about pulling the plug on him if it comes to that, his childhood in the Ozarks of Arkansas, running a hot dog stand, his former marriage, traffic tickets, getting shot with rock salt stealing watermelons and life's regrets and satisfactions and delusions. Though there are no specific diagnoses or prognoses by medical professionals, the inescapable one that does not take an MD to know is "the flesh is corruptible and death is inevitable".

Tonight I will download legal forms for a living will for him. Tomorrow we'll have biopsy results and they'll do a cardiac stress test. Tomorrow night our Bishop arrives for the weekend. There will be things around the Church left undone that I didn't do to finish sprucing up for the Bishop's visit. If the paint in the bathroom didn't get touched up and if I'm not there to "sub-deacon" him every moment he's there because I'm at the hospital, I know he'll understand. He's like that.

Please pray for the servant of God, Gary, benefactor to our Mission and to "the least of these".

First Fishing Trip

Many years ago I used to go fishing. Then life got in the way, six kids and the need for lots of money. Then death got in the way. When my best friend died I basically stopped playing guitar and fishing. I sold our fishing gear at a garage sale. Then death loomed again and I started fishing again with my dad. My oldest son and I have been a few times. His friend Tom from Boston was visiting so all of us and my youngest daughter went fishing this weekend. Tom caught a few bluegill.


It was my daughter's first fishing expedition. She cut up worms, baited the hook and eventually learned to kiss the fish.


Kenz's first fish! Jesse shows his sister how to remove the hook without killing the fish. Kind of a girly experience but she got the hang of it. A fun day all in all...life is good.

Moo Takes a Bath

Watch the video HERE

BarseMoophius

CLICK THIS

Moo at Daybreak

HERE

A Life Well Lived, Or....

...a death well died.

Well, once again the theme of death seems to come to the forefront after my Father's brush with his mortality last weekend.

Today "rightwingprof" who comments here is in the hospital fighting for his life. Inside of a week what was pain in his legs was discovered to be a body riddled with tumors.

Today a client that I've known for years is trying to decide whether or not to finish his last round of chemo-with-no-guarantees. He retired a multi-millionaire and a couple months later found out he had an incurable cancer and 6 months to live. I called him a few weeks ago and asked how he was doing and he said, "Not too bad for a chemistry experiment."

Most of us could multiply such stories and the irony of timing, mystery of circumstances and depth of tragedy. Such is life. Such is death.

Outside of putting one's self purposefully in harms way, how we live seems to have little bearing on what kills us and when. Neither life nor death is fair. Bacon eating smokers and drinkers live to be 100, vegan runners die at 30. The randomness of how people die and from what has no discernible relationship to their relative morality, type of faith or religion, philosophy or "niceness". Trekkies may give you Mr. Spock's Vulcan blessing "Live long and prosper", but in the end it is merely an incantation, much like "Have a nice day", or even "God bless you". In the end well wishes are shorthand for our unarticulated acknowledgement of the fact that people die young and destitute, the days are fraught with evil, and the need for control outside of ourselves of a hostile cosmos that seems to be hell-bent on killing us off in more random, surprising and horrific ways than six sequels of "Saw".

A Christian's life may or may not be as moral or healthy or happy or even "blessed" as the atheist's. Evangelism based on God "one upping" lifestyles that lack irony, tragedy and poverty is doomed to attract only the deluded and desperate and can only end in either deeper delusion and ultimately in despondency. The Christian Gospel requires a life of self restraint, sanctity and love for one's neighbor, but the Gospel does not claim that any of it is a talisman against the cosmic assault on our bodies and souls. The Christian is not called to overcome life, but himself. He is not called to live long and prosper, but to live well and be content in any state. He is not called to have a nice day, but as the Psalmist says, to offer up all days wherein we saw evil to God with thanksgiving. And in the end the Gospel points us to consider the randomness of life and the ultimate injustice: death.

Death is more real than life. Life is like the water the fish swim in. We don't think much about it unless something points us to our frailty, powerlessness and mortality. A split second encounter with death can change an entire 80 years of life. Life can be hypnotic, but death is the snap of the fingers that brings us out of all self made illusions.

In the end, the Gospel is about the overcoming of the power of death so that we may live without the illusion that a "good life" has any correspondence to a "life well lived". A life well lived is one lived without fear, in faith that no matter what life does to us, good or evil, and no matter how or when we die in the end all will be well, all will be well. A death well died is the final witness to whether we lived well or merely lived good.

As I wrote this the theme of death came up on several other blogs:

The Ochlophobist has a pithy blog post on Christian funerals HERE
(also read the link to John's excellent travelogue post on Texas graveyards).

And Sophocles has a reflection on death and the funerals of a nihilist punk rocker and a saint HERE

And today is Dia Del Muerto (The Day of the Dead) in the Mexican culture. I love the art.

Ultimate Prayer Smack Down Competition

Kimbo Slice has nuthin' on monks.


H/T to Allan

Wisdom of Older Women

After 40 years of being married, one day I was looking at my wife at supper and said, "You know, 40 years ago I had a cheap apartment, a crappy car, watched a ten inch black and white TV while eating hamburger helper after I got home from work, and slept on a sofa bed...but I got to sleep with a hot 25 year old girl every night."

"Now I have a two million dollar house, a BMW sport car, a chef's kitchen, a plasma screen TV and a Duxiana bed...but now I'm sleeping with a 65 year old woman. I don't think you're holding up your end of the bargain."

My wife is a very reasonable woman. She said, "I'll tell you what, you go find yourself a hot 25 year old girl and I'll make sure you live in a cheap apartment, drive a crappy car, eat hamburger helper and watch a ten inch TV again."

Truth in Advertising

Too bad they aren't all this honest.



And even more interesting, how they made the commercial



H/T to Silouan

Moona Lisa

Click HERE

My Father is My Brother

I drove to northern Arizona and picked up my parents yesterday afternoon to bring them down to Phoenix for my Father's heart procedure today.

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while know something about my Dad from things I wrote in previous posts.

My Dad is an "old school man". When he says anything about anything that most modern emo people would consider worthy of hours of pithy discussion over a venti frappucino carmel latte you have to listen carefully then read between the lines and then fill in the blanks. As we drove down the mountain roads he made small talk about football, basketball, hockey, the weather. Interspersed between his running commentary on the mundane he talked about his surgery.

"I really don't want to have this done but I figure I should at least find out what's going on" means: "I know this might be it."

At one point I told him Fr. Damian (our priest who he met at my ordination to the subdiaconate, and the first time he has been in a Church in probably 65 years or more) said he would be willing to come to the hospital and say some prayers before he went in for surgery... if he wanted him to. Dad said, "I'd really like that, thank you." Translation: "I know I could die on the table. I'm scared **itless."

We went to the hospital this morning and they took Dad in to prep him. Fr. Damian came and talked with my Mom (who raised us kids Roman Catholic alone) for a few minutes then we all went in together for the short visiting time they allow before the surgery. After a few minutes I said, "We'll go to the waiting room for a while and leave you guys alone for a bit." We left Fr. Damian and Dad alone in the room and waited. About twenty minutes later Fr. Damian came out and said, "Steven, your dad wants to be baptized and he wants you to be there."

I went into the pre-op room and assisted Fr. Damian with the baptism of my Father who 40 years before made fun of me mercilessly about my faith. When we finished the baptism my Dad looked at me and said, "I love you." I said, "I love you too, Dad...I've been praying for this for a long time." He had tears in his eyes. He said, "I know."

We brought my wife and daughter and Mom into his room. Fr. Damian, the Wifie, daughter and I sang "As Many as Have Been Baptized into Christ" for him.

The procedure went well. As they wheeled my Dad to post-op he said, "It looks good." and I said, "Yeah...now you'll have to make good on all those deals you made with God." He grinned. I'll drive them home tomorrow morning. In about 3 weeks I'll bring them down to Phoenix again when our Bishop visits. My Dad and Mom will be chrismated together then.

Thanks to all for your prayers. They have been answered beyond measure.

Demotivators

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For...

MOO!
Recent Moo sightings.

The Best DUI Arrest in History

New Dessert and Bread Recipe

I love to cook, but I don't use recipes because I find they are generally kind of wimpy on the spices, probably to appeal to the broadest spectrum of tastebuds. And I just like to experiment.

We had friends over for supper last night and I made some dessert pears that were simple and turned out, well, REALLY good. The pears were still a little green and hard, so cooking time might be less if the pears are riper. (The ingredients are approximate, I never measure either.)

Cut 5 pears in half lengthwise and using a paring knife "dish out" the core leaving a decent crater that would hold liquid.

Lay them out in a shallow baking dish, cut side up and sprinkle with brown sugar (don't cover them entirely but don't be too skimpy either).

Mix a stick and a half of softened butter with about 4 ounces of spiced rum (I used "Black Strap Rum", it was really cheap and has a great taste for this kind of stuff.)

Put about a good heaping teaspoon of the rum-butter mix to fill the crater.

Cover with foil and bake until the pears are very soft (I cooked mine on 250 for about 3 hours while I was cooking everything else...probably 350 for an hour or more depending on the ripeness of the pears). Serve with vanilla ice cream on the side.


And here's a really quick and tasty home made bread that you can bake and serve right out of the oven when you have guests (or just want fresh bread). This makes two good sized loaves and takes about ten minutes to prepare.

Half of a 5 lb. bag of all purpose flour in a bowl add two heaping tablespoons of coarse salt (not table salt). (If you keep your flour in the freezer let it come to room temp. I've found frozen flour tends to kill the yeast or at least really slows it down.)

Warm about a cup of water on the stove or in a microwave (not too hot, so you can still hold your finger in it comfortably). Add about a heaping tablespoon of rosemary leaves into the water. Add one level teaspoon of sugar and 2 tablespoons (or 4 packets) of yeast. Stir and let the mixture set for about 10 minutes. (When the yeast is activated it will develop foam on the top of the water. If you don't see that, your yeast is no good.)

Add a cup of water to the yeast mix and then pour it in the flour. Start mixing and adding water until the dough is thick enough to barely stand up (not too thin, not too stiff) so if you let it sit for a minute, it will slowly flatten out. I use my hands and just kind of squeeze it between my fingers and scrape the bowl to be sure there's no loose flour at the bottom. It will be very sticky. Don't try to get it absolutely lump free. If you've mixed for more than 3-4 minutes you're trying too hard to get the dough smooth.

Grease 2 bread pans liberally with olive oil, (I use shallow round 9" dishes or my 10" cast iron skillet, not the high sided bread pans so it comes out as a round "artisan loaf"). I haven't had great luck with baking stones, the dough is too soft to hold its own shape and flattens out too much for my liking.) Split the dough between the two pans, I just kind of lump it in and don't worry about the shape too much, it will flatten out and take on its own shape as it rises anyway. Sprinkle a little flour on top and put them in a cold oven and let rise for about an hour (keep an eye on it, it rises fast and will overflow the edges of the pan.) At this point you can take it out of the oven, run your finger around the edges and kind of fold the edges of the dough back in on itself so it forms another mound in the center (don't be too aggressive, just enough to move the dough away from the edge of the dish) and let it rise again, or you can skip this step and just turn the oven on.

If you let it rise twice wait until the dough is slightly above the top of the dish, then turn the oven on to 375. It will keep rising during the baking process. Bake until the top is browned. (About 45 minutes). Remove from oven, let cool for about 15 minutes and pop it out of the pan.

Really yummy on its own, buttered, or with pesto or balsamic vinegar and olive oil dip.
(If you try the recipe, let me know how it works for you...I'm still playing with the formula.)

No More Dogs Dog, Part Deux

When we lost our kids' childhood dogs to old age and illness, and our four cats finally died my Wife said, "No more pets..." A couple months later we ended up at the dog pound and she fell for not one, but two "No more dogs dogs ".

Life with the two "no more dogs dogs" went well for a while. Then she found a stray on the way to the dog park. She fell in love with him and named him Peanut. He immediately turned into Destructo-Dog. He chewed and tore up everything inside and outside the house from the couches, shoes, laundry, and the fish pond. He was "her dog", but in the end he ate too much of "her stuff" and she weepily gave him up to a shelter.

My favorite dog, Duke, even after a couple years of TLC was so damaged we ended up having to put him to sleep a few months ago. The Wifie said, "One dog. That's it. I can't do this again." So Maggie has been the solo dog. She's mellow, big and lazy, as low maintenance as a dog can be.

And it was good.

(Then she found Moo the Turtle at the dog park and it got better.)

Last Monday night my daughter was out with friends on fall break. I was in bed asleep. About midnight I get jostled awake... "Come outside, you have to see this!" I pulled on my yellow smiley face PJ's and my "Closed for Rehab" T-shirt and went out to the driveway. She and her 4 friends and the Wifie have a dog. A BIG brown dog. "Look what we found!" No collar, no tags. "He's sooo cool! He jumped in the car with us...can we keep him?"

"We can keep him until we find out who he belongs to. Tomorrow you need to put up signs in the neighborhood." That was the plan. Well, spring break stuff, a camping trip and other things came and went and the signs didn't go up until yesterday, a week later. In the meantime he made himself right at home. He's friendly, great with kids and other dogs including Maggie, obedient (though we've discovered he's a chow hound and eats anything lower than 4 feet off the floor.) The Wifie kept saying stuff like, "You know, he's really a cool dog...someone is probably really missing him, I bet." And he was cool. The Wifie said wistfully as we printed out flyers, "He's the coolest dog I've ever met." He was that cool. She doesn't hand out dog compliments.

This afternoon she just had to find out. She took him to the vet to get the free scan for a "chip". "A dog that cool HAS to belong to someone who took good care of him", she reasoned. Sure enough. She came home with a defeated look on her face, "He has a chip. They found the owner and they're going to call him and give him our information." "Crap", I thought, "...but maybe he won't call..."

An hour later he called and said they've missed him and would pick him up in a couple hours. So we fed him his last meal with us and sighed a lot. I almost told the Wifie I'd offer to buy him from the owner, but we can't even make our car payments. At supper I half-heartedly said, "Maybe he'll give him to us...yeah, right."

About ten minutes before the owner was supposed to arrive the phone rings. It is the owner. He says, "I'm losing my house and I really can't keep the dog...would you like to keep him?...Can I bring the kids over to say goodbye?" We were elated for us and sad for him and his kids. He arrived a few minutes later and he and the kiddos say goodbye (the kids were too young to really get it, thank God, I remember losing my dogs in grade school). The owner was really glad he had landed in a good home. So are we.

So... this is Carlos, the No More Dogs Dog III (and Maggie) and the Wifie.
Maggie now has company keeping vigil at the supper table for scraps.Everyone is smiling. And it is good.

Mortality Looms

A few months ago I decided I needed to spend more time attending to family stuff, mainly spending more time with my parents, especially my dad. We've been fishing a few times and a few times when I've had days off I just drove up and visited with them for a couple hours. I popped up there last Monday and surprised them. They said they were going to call me that evening to tell me my dad was going to have another heart procedure. My dad had an EKG a couple weeks ago and his heart doctor said it didn't look good. He wants to do an angiogram. My dad had his first triple bypass when he was 51 (about 30 years ago). He had his second triple bypass about 4 years ago. The doctor told him at that time there was one artery that was inoperable and basically it was a ticking bomb. This doctor told him, basically no matter what they find they won't do another bypass at his age. One of the problems is the last time he had an angiogram the procedure itself set off a heart attack on the table and they were forced to "crack him open" and do the bypass.

My mom called me yesterday while my dad was in the yard working on the garden. She said he's really worried. That's "Mom-speak". When she says "he's worried" it means she's really scared.

This Thursday I'll be driving to Northern Arizona to pick up my parents to bring them down to Phoenix for a heart procedure on my dad on Friday morning. If you all remember, offer up a short prayer for us this week for Jesse and Nell (and us kids and grandkids). Thanks.

Day Trip to Sedona

Sedona is a world destination because of the incredible beauty of its rock formations. It is a New Age haven, an artsy fartsy community, a guru-proclaimed "vortex" of cosmic spiritual harmonic convergences, an aging rich hippie hangout and a tourist trap. One of the "events" that people come for from all over the world is the changing of the leaves in Oak Creek Canyon. I know changing leaves aren't a big deal for you who live back east. Cacti don't do much in the way of arboretal dramatics in the winter here. But its not just the leaves, its the setting they are in too.

Anyway, the wifey is on fall break and we decided to take a day trip and look at the leaves. They didn't disappoint (though we were maybe a week early for the real show.) Here's some pictures from the day. (Click on the pictures to enlarge them to full screen).



The hike goes along a creek that runs between two cliffs that are hundreds of feet high.



This is part of the creek and one wall of the cliffs on either side that has been eroded away.

The wifey is standing under the overhang for a perspective on the dimensions of the rock formations. You can see the opposite cliff walls from here and the direction we were hiking. You can follow the creek back about 4 miles between the canyon walls.

This is a view looking back on where we came from on the hike.
And just for grins, a picture of Sedona's "Red Rocks" that I took last year and posted before...but it was a once in a lifetime lighting condition, I pulled off the side of the road and I only had my point and shoot digital camera with me. But, this is why people come here.

Depress Me, Whydontcha?

This is the new marketing ploy from "MyLife" a "reunion" website. Their teaser is an email that tells you "A 57 year old female in Phoenix is looking for you." (OK, if you've lived in Phoenix since you've been 15 and you're 57 that's a tease, if you're 23 its a problem.) Or, "You have 103 people looking for you!" (OK, do any of them have "Esq." behind their name or "Detective" in front of it?") Well, for 6 bucks a month they will tell you who is looking for you and let you contact them through their website. And for 6 bucks a month they will give you a graph that tells you how popular you are.

They have 75 million people who have access to their information. They tell me I have 53 people who have looked for me. So I tried to do the math (I can't do 4th grade math, ask my daughter...) That means ummmm... less than one one millionth of their clients are interested in me. If I cared and could do math, that could be depressing.

The question burning in my brain right now is if I gave them 6 bucks, what would they do with their graph? Is .000000085% "POPULAR"? For 6 bucks will they bump me somewhere between "POPULAR" to "VERY POPULAR"? Of course they will. No one is going to pay 6 bucks a month to have someone spam them every day to remind them they are "LESS POPULAR". But I'm thinking that unless I pay the 6 bucks to find out who the female is that is looking for me (of course feeding on some high school fantasy relationship), I probably won't find out the marketing plan they have for a mere 12 bucks a month to move me to the "VERY POPULAR" end of the graph. (I can already see a lawsuit coming: Website tells someone they are unpopular. Person cancels subscription and uses the money to buy overdose of over the counter drug.)

I heard a talk show a few weeks ago about a company that you can BUY "Friends" for your Facebook so you'll look well...like you have a lot of friends. Of course the initial reaction is outrage... But when you really think about it, that's not any different from what goes on in "real life" and the ways human beings have "bought friends" and conspicuous relationships to impress people they don't know or care about.

In the end, "POPULAR" is the perversion of "COMMUNION". Stats are the delusion of community. "Hit Counters" are the illusion of communication. They put them on Facebook and blogs because intuitively marketers know that what human beings are looking for is validation of their personhood. We're created in a Trinitarian image, we cannot be whole without another. "MyLife" and a zillion other "social networking" sites are the digital 7th Avenue whorehouses of lonely, dieing, withered souls grasping for the comfort of a fantasy straw of communion, a bunch of pixels on a screen with a graph or a stat counter and perhaps some words that tells someone that they are connected to someone else on the planet. But the only touch is their keyboard, and the only face they see is an avatar. And once again human beings sell their soul for an illusion, pay 6 bucks for the lie, and in the dark of the night they weep alone.

This is the work of salvation: to be face to face, to be in communion incarnate. God touches us with flesh in order to save us. Can we do anything less to save those around us and to find our own salvation?

For now we see through pixilated glass, darkly; but then face to face...

Contact Juggling

This kid is really good!


And from an old post, more traditional juggling done well worth a re-run

Putting Graphic Designers Out of Work

This is amazing computer/internet stuff. Whodathunk it?

Sketch2Photo: Internet Image Montage from Tao Chen on Vimeo.

Renaissance Festival Orthodoxy

Yorgos Bilalis of the Romeiko Ensemble joined with costume designer Fatima Lavor-Peters to recreate the chanters (psalti) vestments worn before the fall of Constantinople in 1453. The vestments were designed from frescoes and manuscript depicting the garments. After the Fall under Ottoman rule the chanters wore only the black riassa worn up to the present day.

Well...since this is the REAL tradition and not the modernist liturgical minimalism we've adopted, I thought about having one made to wear for our Bishop's visit coming up soon. (I like the "paper hat" style rather than the "Coneheads").

(Wouldn't THAT be a hoot? In my old days, if we had such things in my Protestant Church, I'd have done it...though I did do stuff that amounted to the same thing. Its a good thing I didn't become Orthodox in my 30's.)
H/T to Byzantine Texas

Orthodox Tortoise

Moo becomes Orthodox HERE

Another Cool Card Trick

Australia's magician of the year. I don't know how they do this stuff. It's like...magic!

Not Lawrence Welk's Accordian

This ain't no polka beer drinking accordian music for sure...

Kid shreds on accordion
Uploaded by kj1983. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.

Breaking News from the NBA

Moo plays basketball for the Phoenix Suns! HERE

Daddy's Little Girls

I don't think it matters how many times a man goes through it, there is a joyful, sobering, heartbreaking tragedy when a daughter begins the passage to becoming a woman. I remember nearly a decade ago going to the mall to shop for a homecoming dress with my eldest daughter. She held up various satiny, shimmery evening gowns, with no straps!, and beamed, "What do you think, Daddy?"

Daddy thought of her adoption day, the trip home from Colorado with a tiny premature infant with spidery E.T. fingers who fit in the sock drawer of the motel as a makeshift crib. Daddy thought of her first smile, of her ear infections and colic, of driving her around in the middle of the night in the car to put her to sleep, of changing diapers, of reading "Where the Wild Things Are" with sound effects at bedtime, of building her desk and putting up "Rainbow Bright" and "My Little Pony" wallpaper in her bedroom, of her dozens of stuffed animals, and her books, of her climbing on top of the refrigerator and getting stuck at 6AM, of her first day of school and her fourth grade math I couldn't do... "Daddy, what do you think?"

The reality was, the dress was beautiful and when she tried it on, she was radiant. No Daddy is ready for that. A Daddy has the curse of seeing his daughter both as a Daddy and as the 17 year old he once was.

Tonight my eldest baby daughter is the student body president of her law school and she's in the library preparing briefs for Moot Court competition. Tonight my baby girl is at her Homecoming Dance. We went to the mall last week and as she held up her dress...

Daddies have a vision and image of what they want their children to be. As children grow a Daddy realizes that his child is a person, not a lump of Playdoh. As hard as you push and ply and squeeze, there is an unmalleable and mysterious part that refuses to be conformed to the image. A Daddy soon realizes he has begotten an unrepeatable mystery. But that mystery is bound to his own mystery and that bond in itself is also common yet unrepeatable. Such is the Father-Daughter relationship.

Tonight I let my baby go. Tonight my baby girl, who 16 years ago, giggled hysterically while I cradled her in my arms and danced with her in our living room will dance in a young man's arms across the floor of a High School Gym. Tonight she is a young woman to everyone else, but still to me she is Daddy's little girl. Tonight she will come home to my house, but I know now not far on the horizon another's house will beckon.

But no matter the distance, no matter the age we have become or the number of years that have passed, there is nothing sweeter in a man's ear than to hear his daughter's voice say, "Daddy..."

Anyway...This is the group going out together to Homecoming. All the parents were there to take pictures. One mother said, "Are these our KIDS?" Indeed they are, and always will be.
This is my daughter and her date (of whom we approved...)
This is me and my baby... there is no preparation for this.

Clever Ads

I'm not promoting Norton Antivirus but I'd promote their ad agency.
(Watch Kimbo's pecs on this one... :)



And where did they dig these guys up again?

I'm in Love

Oh baby!

See a slide show and read all about it HERE

Moo Sighting in Tokyo

Uh oh, Tokyo! HERE

The Boat

The economic situation has made for a crowded boat.

I've basically known I was in the boat, but the other night I realized I am actually on the cruise ship with a lot of other people. We had our electricity shut off a while back and when that happens they put you on a "debit card system". There's a box hooked to your meter and they give you a card. You take the card to a local "filling station" (ours is in a Safeway grocery store parked right inside the main entrance for all the world to see who's an electric company deadbeat). You put cash in and it credits your card, then you take the card home and put it in the cardreader. The kicker is if you're on the program because of past due bills they take half of what you put in until your balance is paid off. It was a brutal "ding" in the middle of summer here in Phoenix when your air conditioning bills even with the thermostat set at 82 can run almost 400.00.

I got paid on a job ran to the bank and then to Safeway to charge up the card because we had about two hour's worth of electricity left in the box. It was payday, a Friday evening, and when I walked in there was a line of about 15 people at the station. There were people from the surrounding trailer parks, seedy apartment complexes and barrios. There were people still in their work uniforms with their names above the pocket, blue shirted maintenance men, stained-white shirted fast food counter help, cashiers with their name tags still dangling. There were people with dirty kids who looked like they just sold someone a load of meth. There were a couple of clean cut uncomfortable folks who looked like they wanted to tell passers-by who looked up and down the line, "I'm not really one of "them"!" I was in my painter's pants and tattered work shirt so I fit right in. I chatted with the Mexican landscape guy and his Indian (casino Indian, not tech support Indian) girlfriend. We were in the same boat. I "own" my house, he rents his (actually I rent mine from the bank...) but we both need electricity and neither of us has enough work to cover all the bills, but both of us will leave the store with beer. But cheaper beer than when we have work.

But the boat isn't just full of minimum wage people. Friends on the blogosphere have lost jobs, members of our Church are facing bankruptcy and working minimum wage jobs just to buy food, I know people who haven't paid their house payments for almost a year and are waiting for the axe to fall, some have been unemployed in their fields for over a year and are looking at losing their houses. I have people ask me all the time if I need help. As much as I'd love to help them out, every hour they work for me is an hour I don't get to work. Its hard to split ten hours a week with someone else and make ends meet for my own family.

I've been self employed for over 27 years in construction in Phoenix and have worked through two major recessions and the rollercoaster economy of a sunbelt city. I've never advertised and have always had an unlisted phone number. My referral network is literally thousands of clients so I have never lacked a day of work... until this past year. I've had weeks that I've had ten hours, or less. We've had our electricity shut off, negotiated with the city to keep our water turned on, paid minimum past due balances on just about everything that we have to have (like my work cell phone number and my work truck payment), we dumped TV completely last year, and sometimes we just don't pay whatever isn't critical path for the month even if it means a penalty down the line.

Its a tough spot for me. I'd get a "real job" but there just aren't any in my field. Even if I could get an hourly job at a restaurant (my last "experience" 35 years ago) that pays 8-10.00 and hour, it makes me unavailable for my business. My work calls are always short notice and range from an hour's work to 4-5 day projects. When I get work, I can charge anywhere from 35-55.00 an hour. I realize I am in an enviable situation that I can make more in two hours than someone else makes in a whole day. The reality is, even with my business dropped in half, I make more half-time than I would working two full time jobs at a retail or restaurant job. But the reality is still, neither scenario pays our bills. And our lifestyle isn't extravagant by a long shot (but yes, still good enough for latent "evangelical liberal guilt" for being relatively rich compared to 85% of the world, OK, there, I said it).

We've thought about downsizing. It would have made sense three years ago when our house was worth almost twice what it is now. But our house payment is literally the same as a cheap crap three bedroom apartment (or a decent two bedroom). We owe about what the house is worth right now so there's no profit to be had by selling it. If we moved to an apartment, I'd have to rent a large storage room for all my construction equipment, which would amount to more than the difference in utilities. If we move to a rental house with a garage, we'd be paying more for rent than we are for our house payment. We could dump a car and a payment, but then my wife would have to quit her job to get our teenager to and from her two schools she attends (the bus won't work, not enough time to get to classes between campuses) and we lose our health insurance (which we have for the first time and need it for a lot of family health issues right now), and what is left over after they take out the insurance premiums almost pays the extra car payment.

So, what to do? Pray, but beside that, not much, really. If I'm not working, I look for work. I talk to people at Home Depot that look like they might need help. I talk to people in grocery store lines, Circle K, Taco Bell parking lots, hand out business cards to strangers. People ask what I do, I tell them anything that pays money. I do all that and then wait for my phone to ring. Sometimes it does, most of the time it doesn't right now. If it doesn't ring, I do charity work if someone needs it, or play with my turtle.

For some reason I've never really worried about money (sometimes I think it is a spiritual virtue, but it could be a delusion too). In the past 30 years, I've had lots and I've been bankrupt. Aside from the hassles that come with either riches or bankruptcy, I was pretty content. Either way I didn't really flinch. I realized long ago that no matter how much I made I was just squeaking by. But, if I'm squeaking by, I got by. If I fall behind, its really "behind WHAT?" If I can't make a payment, I can't. If they take my stuff, I did without it before. If they call because I'm late, its just a phone call not a beating. If they sue me, stand in line with your hand out. And a bad credit rating isn't a mortal sin, it just means I can't buy stuff on credit that would probably send me to hell faster. In the grand scheme of the universe, its just not all that big of a deal, really.

But even with all that, I haven't lost any weight. Obviously my internet is still on. I can afford lettuce for my turtle. A glass of cheap boxed wine at supper still "makes glad the heart of man who went forth to his work until the evening..." My wife and kids and their friends and ours still gather at our table and eat and laugh together, even if it is around hot dogs or SOS on canned biscuits.

So, life is still good. If I lose everything, it will still be good. "A man's life consists not of the things which he possesses..." I know this because I possess the love of a good family. And just like electricity is electricity in a mansion or a rented trailer, love is love in both places but I think it is a bit sweeter when shared in bitter times and surroundings.

Play it Again, Moo

Another Turtle Celebrity HERE

Moo Answers His Email

Dear Moo, Are you a turtle or a tortoise?
Read more HERE

How to Grow Old Together

This couple was in the lobby of a Mayo Clinic. He is 90 and they've been married 62 years, longer than I have been alive.

I watch them and I think of all I have seen and done, things accomplished at too great expense, things I have failed at, all the ways I've fallen and caused grief and pain to those I've loved and fallen out of love with. I think of the unforeseen twists of fate and turns I've taken that took us all down dark paths. I think of the joys mingled with sorrows, the regrets and the grace of happiness unsought and undeserved. I think of the decades of day to day monotonous sacrifices and the secret self indulgences, the unfulfilled goals, the hopes unrealized, the things I've known for over 50 years but know now will never be.

I look at the woman I love who shares my children, my table, my couch, my bed. I think of the deaths and losses we've shared and those we know will come soon, and those that perhaps may come that we cannot imagine. I see the lines of her face in the morning sun, I hold her aging hands, I know her skin, the beauty of her youth lost, the silent frailties now overtaking her bones. The mirror tells me I am closer to death than my birth too. Time has done us both irreparable harm, but I have no desire to hold a hand that has not touched death, nor do I wish to look into glittering, hopeful, shallow eyes that have not seen my world. I have no longing for the false comfort and the old man's lies of an embrace of a smooth body. I want to face the remaining days of my life with the one whose body, soul and spirit have been my faithful companion in all I've reveled in, longed for, ruined, loved and failed at in life.

Who knows what this couple has faced, shared and endured together to get here. But they make it look worth it.

What I Did Today

I went to the Prescott Orthodox Church (a couple hours north of Phoenix) and installed their new Platytera icon. A few years ago I travelled up there twice a week to do Reader's services and teach catechism classes to help get the Mission established.

We unpacked the icon and it was VERY cool that it just happened to be just slightly smaller than the four foot stained glass window over the altar area of the former Lutheran Church they now rent. We had to rent a 14 foot ladder to put up the icon and take down a hanging plexiglass and tin cross that hung from the ceiling in front of it. A handful of self tapping screws to drill into the stained glass metal frame, some clips, a couple dabs of adhesive and a nice lunch with Fr. John Peck and VOILA! We also put in a spot light for the altar and the icon and a dimmer switch. (And a new ceiling fan at Fr. John's house...) Fr. John snapped this pic with his Blackberry when we were done.
All in all, a long but good day. It doesn't seem like rocket science to me, but Fr. John says it is to him and a lot of other people. It is just plain cool to be able to do this kind of stuff. I thank God I got fired from my ministry job and had to pick up an learn how to use tools to put food in the fridge 28 years ago.

Turtle Races

And the winner is.....
See who HERE

Magic Hands

This guy raises the bar on card tricks.

Turtle Pin up Girls

Don't let your mother catch you with this poster!
Exclusively on Moo the Turtle!

Capital Punishment, Final

Is it legitimate to understand the death penalty as punishment and "just retribution"? What do the Church Fathers say about eternal punishment, retribution and hell for the evildoer in light of "God is love"? All this and more HERE.

Indestructible Drunk

This guy is going to be really sore when he sobers up...

New Moo Sighting

Moo the Turtle gets home late.

The Incredibility of Nothingness

These are but two infinitesimal black dots explored in the vastness of the sky. The narrator eloquently describes the incomprehensibility of the universe then finally says, "We cannot help but be changed by this." But of all the over million people who have watched this video (and the other versions of it), has anyone changed, really?

What is the "altar call" of the universe? What demand does the cosmos make on someone? What commitment do undiscovered galaxies require? From what will you turn, and unto what? Humility before mind boggling vastness of numbers and distances is far different than humility before a far more incomprehensible Creator of it all. There is light years of difference between "Wow" and "Lord have mercy".

"...the intelligence which is full of babbling and which investigates the measurements and distances of sky and earth, and the size of the sun and the stars, characterizes a man who labours in vain. Fruitlessly vaunting himself, he pursues what is without profit, as if wishing to draw water with a sieve; for no man can resolve these matters."
St. Antony the Great.

Sorry, Honey...I Missed Our Anniversary

Grace posted her 5th Anniversary of her blog today. (Many posts!)
It got me thinking, I've been around for a while too...I wonder......
Sure enough, I missed it. July 16 would have been my 5th year blogging. This is my 327th post.
The first one went like this:

What if ... everyone read everyone else's blogs in the world. Would we fill the universe with intimacy?

I suspect in The Resurrection everyone will know everyone else like everyone wanted to be known by writing blogs. But we couldn't wait for that to happen. Since we can't delay our gratification until this afternoon, much less until death, we go for the anonymous screen dump of our "self" and hope someone out there really cares what we think about artichoke dip, the Middle East, J-Lo, our "personal journey", or even more mundanely, how our day went.

So, I join the blog. I guess it goes like this: I'll post a thought then check anxiously to see if anyone acknowledges my digital presence. How many times a day I check is inversely proportional to either my narcissism or loneliness, yes?

Fishing for existence. Facelessly shedding anonymity. Baring what little soul I have, hoping that with the addition of another bit of someone else's fragile soul I, we, might become slightly more of a human being. Even if its only zeros and ones and pixels in a darkened room, it has meaning because it came from flesh, dirty fingernails, (or maybe manicured), tapping out the sum of an existence. Who is capable of grasping, much less embracing, even a paragraph of another human being?

I'll think about that while I'm fixing dinner.

Thanks to all who read my stuff and whose blogs I frequent. My life is a bit richer for even the digital moments we share. And now... I need to go fix dinner before my wife gets home from choir practice.

Capital Punishment, Part 7

Is the death penalty really a deterrent? Is there a need to kill evildoers if we can keep society safe through the prison systems? Is punishment a primitive concept not fit for modern enlightened society? All this and more... HERE.

A New "Moo Sighting"

The backyard papparazi caught him again...
Moo the Turtle

The Secret Life of Men in Black

If you read my blog regularly you know I'm one of the few "Orthodox bloggers" who don't do much "Orthodox stuff" my blog. But I read a lot of other people's blogs and there's plenty of Orthodoxy on the web that is better than I can do or would have time to do, so I decided I'm not going to try to replicate other stuff done better. The other thing is, my blog is about the only place I get to NOT talk about "Orthodoxy" but just about life, hopefully informed in a few nooks and crannies by the orthodox faith...even when I'm dressing up a tortoise in my back yard.

So, Christopher Orr has an "Orthodox blog" that I envy. He has a lot of great quotes and excerpts, but more than that, for a relative newbie to Orthodoxy he always has some very astute personal posts about the inner life of the convert and the issues we all face with newbie zeal, vainglory and disillusionment etc. In a recent post about "name days" he mentioned as an aside the "curse of the Reader" which generated a great response thread about being a new convert, zeal, egos, and some of the dynamics of how people come to "get to wear the black dress" and what that means to we who wear one. It is a path strewn with landmines and he talks eloquently and compassionately about them. I've cut and pasted some of the relevant comments here.

Orr wrote:
...the real 'curse of the Reader': being too involved in the Church for one's spiritual maturity. Spiritual maturity is different than spiritual maturity in another Christian denomination or religion, it is also different than one's everyday life maturity, personal or professional. Readers tend to be very involved; thus Orthodoxy can very easily become conversation and opinions and revelations of the 'inside baseball' side of Orthodoxy. This can be offensive, disconcerting, confusing as well as interesting, rewarding, and humbling (in a good way). It's sort of a crucible.

I have likened the various stages in Church life to ever growing targets placed on one's back. Inquirers get little targets, but catechumens trade them in for more permanent, bigger ones. Chrismation/Baptism give you a bigger, brighter one. I experience the same with tonsure as a reader. I would assume the same happens with the subdiaconate, diaconate, priesthood and episcopacy - not to mention monastic tonsure of the various degrees and responsibilities. I am not eager to find out. The 'curse of the Reader' experientially taught me to help the clergy and monastics, to give them the benefit of the doubt, to cut them some slack. They are being attacked more; they have bigger targets on their backs. In some ways, they are diversions letting us get by safely. Perhaps they should have done this or that differently, perhaps they could be nicer, but they take one for the team and grizzled vets that they are point us away from the fray. Becoming a vet necessarily involves grizzling, which means these guys aren't always cuddly - you wouldn't be either with your head up out of the foxhole, to mix metaphors.

I don't know what's happened to the two men tonsured reader with me. Well, I sort of know what's happened with one but try not to think about it - he succumbed to the curse. The other, I have no idea but like to assume he didn't succumb. The Readers before me all succumbed, except for the couple that were ordained. (So) I am firmly against short catechumenates and quick tonsures. 3 years for the first, another 5 for the latter. Though, of course, obedience is life, so... (Incidentally, seminary or serious consideration of monasticism should wait 10 years from one's baptism/chrismation into Orthodoxy and never in the manner of St. Alexey the Man of God. I might be willing to approve of a beard 3 years after reception into Orthodoxy, if one did not already have a beard when serious inquiry into Orthodoxy began; long hair tied into a knot like monastics has to wait until ordination or monasticism, unless you are in a band or previously limited your footwear to Birkenstocks). (s-p: Amen!)

...For the record, my official catechumenate was just over four months, though my unoffical catechumenate (when I was seriously studying and worshiping rather than on and off again peeking at Orthodoxy) was 15-16 months. I was tonsured two years and almost eight months later. So, this is do what I say, not as a do. My times were half my recommendations - but that's because I'm serious when I say obedience is life in such things; it wasn't up to me. This is more of a recommendation to any priests out there responsible for weirdo converts joining the Church....

The only known remedy for the curse of the reader is repentance, confession and trying to shut up as much as possible while remaining an engaged (though perhaps less 'active') Orthodox Christian in a local, not particularly spectacular parish (no monasteries, no Gerondas and Startsy, just a parish) that you chose and stay with without looking elsewhere.

I think it's Fr. Stephen Freeman who says that 95% of Orthodoxy is just showing up. Most of the rest is staying put when you want to run away screaming and crying and swearing. I found I couldn't stop fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays and during the Apostles Fast that terrible year - fasting kept me Orthodox. That, and my Sunday School kids. I couldn't do anything else, couldn't pray, couldn't even stand in church for very long. I could cry during the prayers before communion at a church where no one knew me.

I should note that I am 'doing just fine' and am still a Reader. The whole curse thing is tongue in cheek; it's just a warning of some potential dangers. 'Minor Orders' are not things to be trifled with, neither is conversion. I think priests often want to 'reward' zeal and to give positive encouragement - I don't think quickie conversions and tonsuring are appropriate for that. Similarly, new converts shouldn't be expected to step into the choir director role, join the parish council, lead sunday school, etc. Slow and steady wins the race.

My comments:
Good words, Orr. I completely agree that tonsures (or responsibilities) should not be handed out as a reward for newbie convert zeal. I read services for 7 years and then I was tonsured a reader in another jurisdiction, and that was against my wishes, but the priest insisted (it was a Russian thing). Two years later he talked the Bishop into tonsuring me a subdeacon, again against my desires, I tried pushing it on every other male in the Mission. By the time they both happened I saw it as an obedience, not a "promotion". There was a time I thought I wanted to be a priest. It took me about 8 years to figure out I didn't. A ten year wait before ordination of a convert would be a good rule of thumb in my opinion too. The curse of the reader is real, but it is because those usually tonsured have had hands laid on them too quickly...the Bishops and priests share in their falling for giving them a "badge" beyond their capacity to wear without vainglory and all its manifestations....In one sense a parish doesn't "need" a tonsured Reader. In my first Mission we read services for 7 years without a tonsured Reader, and I believe they still don't have one. The issue I have observed with men coming into Orthodoxy is many of them want to be ordained to something. While attending ALL the services is not done in order to GET tonsured or ordained, usually men do get tonsured because the priest needs someone who is at all the services to read them. So, his pool of potential tonsures is loaded with spiritually immature men who are adept at practicing false humility in public and are looking for a cassock-as-a-badge. No matter how you cut it, and even if you accept tonsure as an obedience with some time under your cincture and you genuinely see it as a ministry etc., there is still something wellll... "cool" about getting to wear the black dress (except in Phoenix in 115). And as Orr said, you are now a "member of the club" and the dirt flows your way now. There's something about showing off to people that you've been rolling in the dirt that is an ego trip that goes along with the "badge" mentality. I generally avoid anyone in black whose conversation is laden with the latest controversies, issues, dirt, insider info and has a plan or vision for the "future of Orthodoxy in America". Ordination to anything is a great temptation to a lot of things. As St. John said in "On the Priesthood", ordination magnifies a man's shortcomings, and his true "craziness" of character will be revealed by the cassock.

Orr's Reply:
Well said. There is a honeymoon to Orthodoxy that can last some time. This is a great blessing. Salvation is not easy. I'm reminded of the little story of CS Lewis where the tin soldier slowly, painfully, frightfully becomes flesh. It's dangerous to advance within the Church while in this honeymoon phase. One hasn't yet been tested; the training wheels have not yet come off.

It's been my experience and observation that simply living an Orthodox life as a layperson is very difficult. Once a person has received a little seasoning, a little experience of falling down and getting back up, of forgiving others, of being offended - all of which is more hurtful as the heart is softened by the Holy Spirit - then is one ready to humbly and fearfully accept responsibility in the Church.

It may be that the Church needs a person's talent sooner than that. That is OK. In some ways, being assigned to the kliros as soon as I was a catechumen was a good thing. It kept me safe from a different set of problems in the nave and narthex. But, if a newbie is put in that position, the priest has to be extra careful to rein them in, to keep them from taking on too much, from being too involved - you want to be in shallow water when you get a cramp, not out at sea. I think there is a tendency to want to see results in one's priesthood, mission, parish, etc. mixed in with the healthy desire to be with, mentor and advance those that love the Church as much as you do. This can lead to giving too much too soon; except for absolute necessities in the Church, it is better to without and with less for a little while to let them newbies cure, season and mature - the priest, the parish, the Church and the newbies themselves will give/get more in the long run if they get just a little less up front. Such has been my experience.

As to whether the person would have freaked out anyway, I don't think that's always the case. Sure, there are actual nuts that can't handle much of anything in life and ordination would just be one more thing, but there are differences - and they aren't differences most people (especially converts) really have experience with. Use St. Paul's metaphor regarding milk and adult food; I also like the idea of a circuit rated for only a certain voltage - run current through it at a higher voltage and it will blow.

The good news is that if you get past the difficult patches, you are stronger and better on the other side (most of the time). That's why it's true that 95% of Orthodoxy is just showing up - and refusing to leave no matter what. (That often takes hunkering down, battening down the hatches, praying more, speaking less, chumming around at church less, giving more, harboring less opinions - at least for a time).

Very true about wearing the dress and being in the know regarding the dirt. I am sorry to say you may have to "generally avoid" me if and when we meet. I'll work on it between now and then, though.

My Reply:
Amen, Orr. Most priests are ecstatic to find someone who WANTS to do stuff and indeed feed "the beast" by adding too much too soon. I was reading about raising a tortoise from birth and if you give it too much of the stuff it likes while it is growing up, it will end up deformed as an adult. hmmmm... and I wouldn't avoid you, I'd just change the subject. Especially if the beer was good. :)

POSTSCRIPT:
Of course as with all things that make broad brushed observations about motives, people's inner spiritual lives and dynamics of relationships, your mileage may vary, if the shoe fits, and etcetera etcetera etcetera.