Well, I just wanted to update on a few things and then talk about joy a little. As for the update, I can finally note that spring is here, or will be very soon. It's been sunny for perhaps a week, and I finally saw the thermometer above 10C (50°F) today--actually, at 18 (64.4°F) in the heat of the day! As I was still wearing my heavy winter wear for the morning walk to school, I was quite warm (a bit hot, that is) walking back after school in the direct sunlight (that aforementioned 18C was without direct sunlight on the thermometer). That was a big jump from yesterday (it probably got above 10C in the sun, and perhaps in the shade, too, but never when I happened to see the thermometer), and the few bits of snow left on certain shady roofs this morning are all but melted completely (most of the last bits on the ground were gone by yesterday afternoon, but there are a couple spots still on the ground). The mountains are gorgeous, snow-capped and sunny, with occasional shadows from nice, fluffy white clouds. One of the more minor things (as opposed to the people, uniform Orthodoxy (at least, in theory), traditions, culture, et cetera) I'll miss when I leave will be the surreal natural beauty I've seen pretty much everywhere I've been so far here.
The coming of sun and warmth coinciding as it has with the beginning of Great Lent, with its penitential and somber character, has given me a lot of occasion to consider emotions. How are we supposed to feel now, during Lent? The conclusion, of course, is that it depends on us. The Orthodox Church has never said that if you feel happy it's a good sign of the Spirit resting on you or anything like that (nor that it means it's in earthly comforts or ignorance of sins, either)--nor indeed that being gloomy is anything like the repentance we're called to (not that sadness can't, of course, make things more real and clear to us, either). Emotions, of themselves, don't matter; it's what they lead us to that matters. The things is, in Orthodoxy we have something called "spiritual tears," to weep unceasingly over our sins, as a gift given to certain saints. Then we have "spiritual joy," a gift given to other saints in unceasing rejoicing over His love and forgiveness. Both are in awe of standing before the Creator (as we always are; if only we could recognize it!), and they're not even mutually exclusive. All the saints were granted joy in God by first realizing their entire lowliness and having great sadness over their sins. Compare St. Paul's "rejoice in the Lord always" (Php 4:4) and St. Chrysostom's dying words, "Glory to God for all things!" with the prophets' exhortation to turn to God with weeping in sackcloth and ashes, and you see that both are acceptable if done for and in God's will--there's excessive sadness (despondency, or even despair, leading us to reject God's power to save us and thereby rejecting the open Hand offering Salvation) and excessive joy (a sort of "everything will turn out fine" attitude without any will or effort to actually work for Him). Luckily, there's an easy way to tell if we're in the extremes or the right path--do we find ourselves wanting to do, and actually doing, the things that lead to Him--prayer, ascesis, forgiveness, patience, chastity, temperance, self-sacrifice, and so forth--less, or more? Unless we are tainted with pride (i.e., in so much as we may do such acts to further our own sense of self-importance)--and we all are to some extent, and thus must be careful--this is a perfect test and measure when we're unsure.
So in Lent we should feel as we ought--sad if we aren't doing as we ought (are we ever?), and happy, hoping in Him Who is always our Helper, Comforter, and Guide. And depending on our spiritual situation and our soul's inclination we'll likely feel one or the other more; most of us are not constant in either, but tend to fluctuate. What we can't do is let the worldly situations around us affect us as if they really mattered. So it's sunny and warm--if we pay attention to it at all, let us rejoice that God is giving a reprieve from the difficulties of cold, and lament that it is harder to chastise ourselves as we can naturally do very easily in accepting the cold with patience and enduring it. So it's cold--endure and gain a crown through this self-chastising patience and rejoice in it, but be on guard constantly, or you will fall; for when difficulties are greater, it's easier to give up our efforts and seek only passing comforts. So you're surrounded by people--rejoice in your ability to commune with these images and creations of God, other parts of the whole of the Body of Christ of which you are a part; but lament the distractions and worldliness and outright sins that may arise between people, and guard that you not fall into sloth or gluttony, and not judge nor be vainglorious--and watch always that you not by being used to company become unable to labor in spiritual efforts when alone or become bored or despondent when these distractions are taken away. So you're alone--rejoice that you're freer from distractions from the true joy found in prayer and spiritual efforts, and be ever watchful lest you fall into delusion, pride, vainglory or judgment, or by becoming used to solitude cannot behave with self-sacrificing patience and generous love and forgiveness toward others, and in general order your schedule to please your will. It is the same with all things, even those most of us view only as joys or only as sorrows--we must both rejoice and lament, ever understanding both aspects of the issue, both watchful and even fearful over our sinful inclinations, and unworried and joyous in hope in God. I have had some periods in my life of real inclinations toward both despair and excessive and imprudent happiness. In the last few months, I have become more and more rooted in joy, as it turns out, but think (and prayerfully hope) it, by the Grace of God and the guidance of the Church, to finally be a more real and meaningful state, and not imprudent, but based in the peace He gives. Now I'm truly the greatest and first of the wretches on this earth, as He shows me more and more as time goes by; I could always be wrong about this, and could easily fall away from it, if it is real. But He never deserts us, and thus we should never desert hope. Whether I am led to lamentation or thanksgiving, I care not, so long as the peace which comes with it from God and makes it not in vain, but rather sanctifies it, "redeeming the time" (Eph 5:16, Col 4:5), remains. But now, in my great joy and hope in God, I'll simply leave you with these most inspirational true words; "Glory to God for all things!"
In Christ,
Teopile/Theophilos Porter
The coming of sun and warmth coinciding as it has with the beginning of Great Lent, with its penitential and somber character, has given me a lot of occasion to consider emotions. How are we supposed to feel now, during Lent? The conclusion, of course, is that it depends on us. The Orthodox Church has never said that if you feel happy it's a good sign of the Spirit resting on you or anything like that (nor that it means it's in earthly comforts or ignorance of sins, either)--nor indeed that being gloomy is anything like the repentance we're called to (not that sadness can't, of course, make things more real and clear to us, either). Emotions, of themselves, don't matter; it's what they lead us to that matters. The things is, in Orthodoxy we have something called "spiritual tears," to weep unceasingly over our sins, as a gift given to certain saints. Then we have "spiritual joy," a gift given to other saints in unceasing rejoicing over His love and forgiveness. Both are in awe of standing before the Creator (as we always are; if only we could recognize it!), and they're not even mutually exclusive. All the saints were granted joy in God by first realizing their entire lowliness and having great sadness over their sins. Compare St. Paul's "rejoice in the Lord always" (Php 4:4) and St. Chrysostom's dying words, "Glory to God for all things!" with the prophets' exhortation to turn to God with weeping in sackcloth and ashes, and you see that both are acceptable if done for and in God's will--there's excessive sadness (despondency, or even despair, leading us to reject God's power to save us and thereby rejecting the open Hand offering Salvation) and excessive joy (a sort of "everything will turn out fine" attitude without any will or effort to actually work for Him). Luckily, there's an easy way to tell if we're in the extremes or the right path--do we find ourselves wanting to do, and actually doing, the things that lead to Him--prayer, ascesis, forgiveness, patience, chastity, temperance, self-sacrifice, and so forth--less, or more? Unless we are tainted with pride (i.e., in so much as we may do such acts to further our own sense of self-importance)--and we all are to some extent, and thus must be careful--this is a perfect test and measure when we're unsure.
So in Lent we should feel as we ought--sad if we aren't doing as we ought (are we ever?), and happy, hoping in Him Who is always our Helper, Comforter, and Guide. And depending on our spiritual situation and our soul's inclination we'll likely feel one or the other more; most of us are not constant in either, but tend to fluctuate. What we can't do is let the worldly situations around us affect us as if they really mattered. So it's sunny and warm--if we pay attention to it at all, let us rejoice that God is giving a reprieve from the difficulties of cold, and lament that it is harder to chastise ourselves as we can naturally do very easily in accepting the cold with patience and enduring it. So it's cold--endure and gain a crown through this self-chastising patience and rejoice in it, but be on guard constantly, or you will fall; for when difficulties are greater, it's easier to give up our efforts and seek only passing comforts. So you're surrounded by people--rejoice in your ability to commune with these images and creations of God, other parts of the whole of the Body of Christ of which you are a part; but lament the distractions and worldliness and outright sins that may arise between people, and guard that you not fall into sloth or gluttony, and not judge nor be vainglorious--and watch always that you not by being used to company become unable to labor in spiritual efforts when alone or become bored or despondent when these distractions are taken away. So you're alone--rejoice that you're freer from distractions from the true joy found in prayer and spiritual efforts, and be ever watchful lest you fall into delusion, pride, vainglory or judgment, or by becoming used to solitude cannot behave with self-sacrificing patience and generous love and forgiveness toward others, and in general order your schedule to please your will. It is the same with all things, even those most of us view only as joys or only as sorrows--we must both rejoice and lament, ever understanding both aspects of the issue, both watchful and even fearful over our sinful inclinations, and unworried and joyous in hope in God. I have had some periods in my life of real inclinations toward both despair and excessive and imprudent happiness. In the last few months, I have become more and more rooted in joy, as it turns out, but think (and prayerfully hope) it, by the Grace of God and the guidance of the Church, to finally be a more real and meaningful state, and not imprudent, but based in the peace He gives. Now I'm truly the greatest and first of the wretches on this earth, as He shows me more and more as time goes by; I could always be wrong about this, and could easily fall away from it, if it is real. But He never deserts us, and thus we should never desert hope. Whether I am led to lamentation or thanksgiving, I care not, so long as the peace which comes with it from God and makes it not in vain, but rather sanctifies it, "redeeming the time" (Eph 5:16, Col 4:5), remains. But now, in my great joy and hope in God, I'll simply leave you with these most inspirational true words; "Glory to God for all things!"
In Christ,
Teopile/Theophilos Porter
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.