"Love Wins," A Critique: "Preface"

This blog has been interestingly different than its original intent. The original purpose was to have a chance to write about Georgian culture and the TLG program, mainly to potential volunteers, and secondly for the interest of my family and friends. But when I found it easier to make my own blog, separate from the CCI/Greenheart Travel page, I ended up making it essentially a "what's up with Theophilos" blog, knowing that my audience was primarily now family and friends. Now I wish to twist the purpose for a moment and use this as a chance to give a response to a book. It was lent to me by a wonderful American volunteer in the nearby village/town who has been attending Church (i.e., Orthodox) every Sunday and with whom I've been discussing Orthodoxy. It's called "Love Wins" and is by Rob Bell. As she warned me that I probably would disagree with a lot of it (nor does she agree with all of it), and that many have dubbed him a "heretic" because of this book (a "heretic" of Christianity in general, one must suppose; though it's impossible to be a heretic of so broad a range of beliefs as of all those different churches, groups and sects that use the name), I knew I would have a lot to say when she asked me to read it and give my opinion. As the title sounded a bit familiar (and I really don't keep up whatsoever on protestant literature, as an Orthodox Christian), it must be at least somewhat popular in parts of the Western Christian community, and I can think of a few of my readers that might have read it. As such, I figured that as I read, I'll write down my responses (I would have done that regardless so that I don't forget anything when I next talk to the aforementioned volunteer again next), and then post them online for whoever might be interested. If you're not, forgive my assumption and hubris in my opinions (even if you are going interested, please forgive me that, for I know it's present), and you can stop reading now, and can ignore all my subsequent posts under the same title. If you are going to read it, don't judge Orthodox Christianity by any theological errors I might write into my response. I cannot speak for the Church (no one person can, even the saints; it's the consensus of the saints that we Orthodox trust as the continual working of the Spirit, and individual saints sometimes even have theological errors, whereas the consensus is very clear on everything); as such, don't think of this as the Orthodox perspective, but merely as the perspective of one striving Orthodox Christian. [I can also now note, as I have finished the series, that I have not been able to explain myself as I would like. I have noticed in talking to the aforementioned volunteer about the book that there are many aspects that I did not stress in the same way in talking as in writing or cover particularly clearly or in-depth in this written series; thus it may be easy to misinterpret or take things out of content from the intent I had while writing--I likely took some things out of context or misinterpreted parts of Mr. Bell's work as well; forgive me if I thus misrepresent his views.] [Also forgive the format; each new paragraph is a new point that came up in my reading, generally, and thus a new paragraph could seem to come out of the blue and have nothing to do with the previous ones. As always, I use parentheses in normal writing from the original, and brackets for things I think to add now as I type it into the computer, after the original handwriting of it.]


Preface:

Well, from the start I'm worried about the tone. "Jesus's story" isn't what interests us as real Christians, but Jesus' real life and actions both as the Word before all ages; through the act of Creation, that others may be able to share in Life and Love; through the pillar of fire in the wilderness, the judges and kings and prophets and the Levitical priesthood, guiding and correcting us even after we sinned, fell away, and showed ourselves to reject Him constantly; at His extreme humility in restoring our fallen nature through His Incarnation; His extreme Love which He showed in His words and actions in the flesh; His taking on of one of our sin--and its destruction thereby--as a blameless Pascha Lamb on the Cross; His Resurrection, breaking the bonds of Death and perfecting our bodies; His Ascension, taking human flesh to the right hand of the Father; His vouchsafing and sending of His Spirit [though I should note that Orthodox believe the Spirit proceeds from the Father, not from the Father and the Son, as most Western Christians do; but see the Traditional Orthodox Theology on this point, not me]; His continued Love for us and Mercy in everything and at all times--this continuing, uninterrupted flow of His Very Self unto us is the focus, not merely the text of His historical time on Earth. If viewed as a "story," something separate from life now and something concluded, then we misunderstand Jesus' power and the very "story" we praise. We must be careful to worship the Word Incarnate, not the written Word, important as it is as Divine Scripture.

Now, about these questions, which do indeed matter immensely, and which many share unanswered--about judgement, heaven and hell, a Loving God yet hatred existing on Earth, and all the rest--why do you think you can give any different answer than the thousands who came before you, coming from the same source of reasoning--fallen human logic and reasoning? With this, none can come to a real answer, and as such, each protestant sect has its own versions of "obvious" truths and interpretations, somehow in hubris ignoring the fact that the mere existence of so many different denominations, all using essentially the same tools of discernment--that is, primarily fallen human emotion and/or fallen human reasoning--proves that it is an invalid, fickle tool for discerning the One Absolute Truth of God which transcends all human understanding and can only be understood by revealed grace. What's the answer, then? Well, the only Church that hasn't given into a scholastic method of discerning theology--which happens to be the same Church which has been handed down without theological change or alteration, based on the work of the Holy Spirit through the saints, the Tradition of the Church founded by Christ and the giving of this Spirit upon His Apostles and their successors, in continuous theological agreement through the power of this Spirit--the only Church which has existed since the time of Christ which neither gave in to Papal infallibility, scholasticism and legalism, and even torture and murders as methods of "evangelism" (i.e., Roman Catholicism), nor to warped views of God or worship never taught by the Apostles and rejected quickly by the Church, which has held this fast confession throughout the ages even until now (e.g., Oriental Orthodoxy, though there are stranger ones, too, like the Gregorians of Armenia). This is the very Church which gives us the Bible which protestants value to the exclusion of the Church from which it proceeds in a complete reversal of logic. [Though I should note that it's not the same Bible as Luther held, who, rejecting much of the tradition of the Church (and his later followers moreso) changed the books he considered acceptable (aren't we supposed to change our conform our minds to Scripture, not the other way around?--this is scholasticism at one of its worst points); some of these changes stuck and some didn't--for example, he hated the book of James and said he would rather have not had it in the Bible. Yet even Lutherans still have it in their Bible, and somehow still think that Luther is the one whose interpretation we should follow (which again contradicts itself, as he preached Sola Scripture, not "Sola Scrpiture plus my own opinions and exegesis"--note the impossibility of true Sola Scriptura (for one thing, as the Bible affirms keeping written and oral tradition and exegesis, and also because it's impossible not to interpret it, if nothing else, from our own biases, experiences, and thoughts). And I say this knowing what I'm talking about, as a former Lutheran, and one who was studying for the Lutheran ministry before having my eyes opened to the humbling truth of the Holy Spirit revealed through the Church to which we should, rather than following our own thoughts and wills, submit ourselves. And now, after this aside, back to what I was originally talking about:] This Bride of Christ of which I speak is the Eastern Orthodox Orthodox Church, Chalcedonian, Apostolic, and Catholic (not Roman Catholic, but in the actual definition and meaning of the word itself) [all the Churches that belong to this Church (I note this as there are a few so-called "Orthodox" churches that are impostors) are in communion with the Patriarchate of Constantinople]. Without one's will in complete submission to its teachings, being led astray by not cutting off our wills for God's (revealed through the Church), it is impossible not to fall into at least some error--and any error in theology can be mortal. And personally, I must note that your saying that God's response to our questioning and thirsting for Truth is to ask for our own opinion is just stupid. An Omniscient God and Father sees His children stumbling along the edge of a precipice toward the light, blinded by their fallenness, and asks them, "What do you think you see?" What kind of monster-god would leave us to our own fallen devices, incapable as we are of seeing beyond the material (or even that, I should add) without His aid? No, He reveals Truth to those willing to listen, cut off their wills, and suffer for Him--for without temptations and sufferings no one can be saved (cf. St. Anthony the Great, amongst others), loving Himself more than God His Creator, in his fallen blindness. Why does He not reveal it all at once? If our own eyes on Earth need time to adjust from pitch-blackness to the brightness of a fallen sun, how much more do we need to be led gradually as babies toward adulthood spiritually; to have our spiritual eyes thus opened? To reveal Himself all at once to those not really willing to love Him more than themselves or still unsure, such a revelation would force worship--but only as a façade; for respecting the very good free will He created in us, He knows that a love forced is not a love at all, and a knee bowed not out of love and faith, but out of knowledge of power alone, is a knee bowed in seeming, but with a heart turned away in loathing (cf. Rom 14:11, Php 2:10, Is 45:23). As such, God our Father neither silently leaves us, asking for answers, to our own devices, nor as Pure Light, reveals Himself all at once to the pain of our eyes, yet still in great darkness.

Saying there are any issues in how we live toward God and understand Who He really is are "in the end, not that essential" is scary for so many reasons that I'm not even going to try to go into each of them one by one. Obviously spilling blood over such a thing (or in general forfeiting love over it) is to miss the point completely, but that is the only point in this argument I can agree with you on.

The "historic, orthodox faith" is "deep, wide," and "nothing[...that] hasn't been taught, suggested, or celebrated by many before"--but that is the Orthodox Church's theology, which is not something which can be discovered with fallen resources alone (though those, by God's direction, can lead us to the Church which He uses as His vessel, and which, by submitting to it in exclusion of our own wants and wills and thoughts, can grant us this theology). This true Theology, I can sadly note from this preface, is not likely to be much akin to what you are about to teach.


And that's my response to the 5-page preface. Getting through the 198 pages of the book itself could take a while. But until next time...

In Christ,
Teopile/Theophilos Porter

Snow, Snow, Snow, Snow, Snow...

It seems from the news that this has been an unusually cold and snowy year for all of Europe--we’ve been seeing snow all around the Mediterranean, in Italy and France, and parts of the Black Sea itself have frozen over. It’s been no different here. I haven’t seen a day without snow on the ground since before the snowy pictures in my last picture blog (January 19). Generally, it will go a day or two without snow and start to melt, then the next day or night it’ll dust the ground with a few inches—which means a lot of slush and mud, unfortunately. A few times, however, it will snow pretty heavily and/or continuously all night and day and give us a good five inches or so in a night. The last two days have been this latter case, and right now the snow’s up to my calves at least. It actually just stopped snowing for a bit (it hadn’t stopped from about 11:00 last night to maybe a half-hour ago, 11:30 this morning--and quite heavily snowing at that), but I’m sure it’ll start up in an hour or so again. There are icecycles longer than my arms in certain places [I later saw a few that were perhaps longer than my entire body], and I just got interrupted by the family all going outside to look at something; it turns out one of our water pipes has a sizeable leak now [it has since been fixed], having been rent under pressure from freezing. Luckily, most other things are simply inconveniences--there’s less travel, of course, and people drive slower, but they all know how to drive in this (unlike most drivers in western Washington), and I haven’t heard of any accidents. Sometimes you’re just stuck wherever you parked your car for a while, though. In western Georgia, it’s not quite as bad, but of course the passes are horrible, and every day the news shows all the cars slowly following the snow plows over them.  There are also some populated mountainous regions (e.g., Svaneti) that have it pretty bad.  You know it's cold when the Minister of Education of the whole country gives a couple days' snow break (that' why I'm not at school right now).  Indeed, my host parents said they haven't seen snow like this in 20 years.  Like I said, it's mostly inconveniences only, but it also means farmers can't do anything all day--our cow and chickens certainly aren't fond of the snow, and working in the fields definitely isn't going to happen.  But the question remains, when will it end?  There's a short poem about February my host father jokingly said at the table last night--"February is the last month of summer, and the cold is going away.  Probably the warmth of spring is coming, and you can see its first flowers."  That's far from a good translation; it's what I remember of what my host sister said was the gist of it.  Right now we're thinking it might be applicable by June or August.  But until then, we're gathering by the fire a lot, and enjoying as much as we can this winter wonderland of snow.

In Christ,

Teopile/Theophilos Porter

Winter's Back

For a while there, I thought we were at the beginning of an early start to spring--it was sunny all the time, and was much warmer than it had been for quite a long time.  But, back came winter all of the sudden with a couple days' snow--and though I can't say I'm glad to be cold again, I am certainly glad to have all the beautiful snow to look at, and hear it crunching underfoot when I walk.  The last few days before school started back up again were wonderful--they were quiet days at home, there was snow outside (and on the second day of snow, my host siblings and I made a snowman and had a snowball fight (prompted by my host sister), before going inside to have the traditional cup of cocoa to warm you up...or, that is, coffee, since they were out of cacao--but it worked just fine), and the power even went out for a little over a day, which I personally quite like in many regards--the snow gave beautiful natural light by day, and there was the ambiance of candlelight in the evening; the TV was off, giving a chance to have some really good and important conversations, instead of having continual distractions; there was quiet (this in itself is worth it to me)--and overall, it was just a simple couple days, giving ample chance to read and enjoy each other's company.  As I took some pictures of the snow, I thought I'd share them with you:

January 19:

Our garden and vineyard, with houses beyond, in the early evening on the first day it was snowing.

 

January 20:



Late the next morning (and it was still snowing, as you can see).

 

Our oh-so-beautiful snowman (real carrot and coals--I was surprised we had carrots in winter, and they were perfect for this, as you wouldn't have wanted to eat them (they'd been outside all winter)).

And some pictures of him with the makers thereof (Lasha didn't really play much of a part in it, and regardless wasn't around when we took the pictures, so it's just Salome and me).

January 22:

The sun came out, and it was really beautiful on the snow.  Thought I'd share it.

In Christ,

Teopile/Theophilos Porter

New Pictures! [And a Short Blurb on Mortality, Oddly Enough]

December 27 (2011):

(The first day of my travels.)

This and the next two pictures are of a church in the middle of Tbilisi.  If I was judging correctly, by the map I had, this church is also a convent.  The structure is very Georgian on the outside, but when I walked in, I truly thought it was a Catholic church.  I've never been in an Orthodox church that Western--there was a choir rehearsing in very Western style with an organ, no iconostasis, very Western iconography (what little there was), et cetera.  If it is Othodox (it's possible that it's a Catholic church, and they just adopted Georgian building structure, etc., to be more inviting to the local population), then luckily it's the only one even remotely like this I've seen in Georgia.  [I now know that it's a Gregorian (i.e., Armenian Christian) Church; that's why I couldn't classify it--I'd never seen one before!]

This is an overlooking view of the little park by the glass bridge (this is on the West bank of the river).

And from the same location, Sioni Cathedral (and another church almost directly behind it, as you can see).

From the park viewed above, of St. King Vakhtang's Church and another on a hill (I believe the latter is the monastery I stayed at this night, but I'm not sure.  Assuming it is, as you can see, it looks quite close to Tbilisi proper, but it's actually a fair walk away in reality.).

On the left, a fortress with a still-functioning church.  On the right, the statue of "Mother Georgia."

This was as I was going up toward the monastery where I would end up spending this night.  That church is the one in the fortress pictured in the previous picture.

Tbilisi proper, from the same spot.

Zooming in on Sameba, which so prominently sticks out.

December 29:

This is at the second monastery I stayed at; the superior, with the kitten (they had a lot of cats), and some postulates and guests (and me).

A slightly different arrangement of people.  Unfortunately, neither of these pictures captured all the people at the monastery, as they were taken in the night, before I was going to leave for Tbilisi, and the next morning (theoretically) go to Betania (I say theoretically because it ended up taking a few more days, which I spent in Tbilisi, before things worked out for me to head off to Betania).

December 30:

A close-up picture of Sameba by night.  It's left open (not the church itself, but the grounds) for people to walk through by night, though guards patrol to make sure nobody is trying to do anything untowards.

Freedom Square as decked out for the upcoming festal season.

January 2 (2012):

The church at Betania.

Showing the grounds to the side of the main church a little.

Before showing the next few pictures, I need to explain a little, I think, namely for the non-Orthodox.  Probably to the uninitiated, they woill look very morbid, if not almost occultish.  Thus, I will briefly explain the purpose behind these images.

First of all, death in Orthodoxy is not something to be feared--indeed, we have already died, with Christ, through our baptism into His death.  Rather, we fear, rightly, only the judgement which comes after our deaths--not because God is a condemning God, looking to throw us into the fires of hell, but because then our own consciences will be revealed unto us, and show whether in our hearts we truly loved God or not.  For our judgement is not like His judgement, and we can deceive ourselves all our lives, while He reveals all things.  And if it be shown that, even with our many sins, we have truly tried to love Him as we ought, we will receive our desire of abiding in Him; but if it be shown that, regardless of outer appearances or inward self-deceptions, we have not truly loved Him or wanted to abide with Him, He will not disregard or disrespect our free will, but will give us that which we were striving toward--fuller separation from Him, and thus true death for the soul.  It's up to us.

As such, it's beneficial for us to remember the short and fleeting nature of this life and find no way to deceive ourselves, but constantly remind ourselves of our own mortality, that we not be too taken to the comforts of this life and fearful of its chastisements, thus becoming wholly selfish and God-hating.  Furthermore, as the saints are truly alive in Christ, we, the Church militant (still in the struggles against evil, in this life on earth), and they, the Church triumphant (who have ended their lives in faith, love, and hope, and are given rest from the temptations of the evil one) are one.  This is why we surround ourselves with icons of the latter in our Churches as we gather together as the former, and this is why we keep their relics (i.e., their bodies) in our Churches as holy things.  For those of whom it is not known if they are saints or not, it still behooves us to see their graves around us, as a reminder to us of our mortality, that they are still present and we can see them again in the general resurrectiorection (if both they and us be counted among the saved), and also that we should pray that they be so counted (for our fate, we believe, is not fully sealed until the Second Coming of Christ, in Glory, and we taste only yet at death a foretaste of what is to come for us; and thus those in the foretaste of torments still have some time for repentance, and can benefit and be given respite by our prayers, just as those still on this earth can benefit from our prayers and be given greater opportunity for repentance).

So we bury our dead in graves (cremation, for the Orthodox, is forbidden as the pagan custom it is (it's only in very modern times that any religions purporting to be Christian have allowed cremation)--not because God can't raise up from ashes in His second coming, but because it is a symbolic denial of our bodily resurrection).  Furthermore, in monasteries, there is the custom of exhuming the bodies of the monks after some time, and (assuming they are not shown to be incorrupt, a sign God grants to us confirming the holiness of a great many of His saints) placing the bones of them all together as a testament to the holy history of the place, showing the great number of people who sacrificed their lives in the slow martyrdom of monasticism.  And this also gives us a chance to venerate their bones and ask for their prayers and intercessions before God by those among them with boldness in his sight (though we cannot assume simply from their monastic life that they are all saints, by any means).

I would here like to quote a little from the daily blog of Abbot Tryphon of All-Merciful Saviour Monastery (Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia; located on Vashon Island, WA, USA--you can read more of his blog at http://morningoffering.blogspot.com/) about the role of cemetaries for us:

     One of my earliest memories was going to a family plot in Spokane, WA with my maternal
     grandmother.  She would lay flowers on the graves of her loved ones, family members who
     were long dead before I was even born. Even though many had been gone from this life for a
     few generations, to my grandmother they were still alive. She would sit on a tombstone,
     flowers in hand, and tell me about her sisters, her parents, and other family members. Her
     shared memories were made all the more real seeing the names of these loved ones
     chiseled in stone. The ritual of visiting graves was common back in those days, with
     families keeping alive the memories, while showing their love and respect for their dead
     relatives by tending to the graves, and leaving flowers. It was even quite common, especially
     in Western Europe, for friends and families to take picnics to graveyards.


     There is also the role cemeteries can play in our own spiritual lives, for they are clear
     reminders of our own mortality. I have already picked the plot where my own remains will be
     placed on the grounds of our monastery. Seeing where one will eventually be laid to rest is a
     good way to remember one's own eventual death, reminding ourselves of our own mortality,
     and to use our remaining days wisely.


     [...]  Having a plot to visit continues that connection and allows me a chance to show my love
     for [my reposed loved ones] by placing flowers on their graves as I [am] offering prayers for
     their souls. It saddens me that so many people have deprived themselves of such moments
     [For the full text of this blog entry, see the Friday, December 23, 2011 entry of the afore-
     linked-to blog, which is entitled "Cremation."]


And when I originally read this blog entry of his, I thought to myself "I would love to take picnics to cemetaries"--as odd as that may sound to the modern stigma around them.  At graves, things are always a bit clearer and a bit more real, and whenever I find myself at a cemetary, I can say personally that I feel a great peace at this, in knowing these people have finished the fight, and praying that God grant them rest and peace.  It reminds me of my coming mortality, recalling to mind the words of the apostle that the sufferings of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory of the time to come; both in terms of the greatness of that glory and in terms of its infinteness as compared with the short-lived nature of our lives here.  And thus it spurs me on to endure whatever hardships may come, passing as they are by nature of being in this life, and to prepare myself better for the judgement seat to come, whether at my death, or at the words "Behold, the Bridegroom cometh" at the Great Second Coming.  If I find myself within a monastery, looking on the bones of reposed monks (as was the case when I took the next five pictures), and especially if I can venerate these same bones (unfortunately not the case here), all the much more is this true.  If these bones or any graveyard I'm in is in an Orthodox church or monastery's grounds, I all the more am comforted by the holiness of the place in which they rest, and by the knowledge that, should they have come short, they have almost certainly been commemorated in this church's commemorations at the Liturgy--and truly this commemoration, we see in the lives of the saints, has more power even than their intercessions for us, even with their boldness before Christ.


And so, all that being said, the following five pictures were taken underneath the church at Betania, and are of the bones of their monks:

With flash, that you may better see.

The gate protecting this holy and peaceful place in the monastery.

These are the graves of two saints (who passed away not more than a couple generations ago) who were monks at the monastery and who helped to greatly renew the spiritual life here.

In old Georgian letters, on the closest tomb it says "Christ is Risen;" on the latter, "Indeed He is Risen."

Saint George (Giorgi)

Saint John (Ioane)

There was a postulate with me as I was taking some of these pictures, and he offered to take some pictuers of me; here they are.

January 7:

This is Ch'ik'aani's church, St. Thomas Church (ts'minda toma ek'lesia), and its grounds (cemetary).  While we were waiting for a minute in front of Mama Davit's house for him to finish getting ready to start our "Alilo," I realized that I hadn't ever taken a picture of the church yet.

January 10:

A random picture of Ch'ik'aani.  Doesn't look much like winter, does it?

January 11:

I walked out of the house this morning to find my mother making bread.  Here's batch one of two for the day (of this type of bread; we made a lot of bread this day).

The giant whachamacallit is the oven for cooking the bread; the thing leaning on it is for holding and forming the dough before putting it in (right now there's a cloth over some dough to help it rise a little as we get the oven hot for another round of bread).  Also, my host mother (not a great picture of her, though).

Looking into the oven-thingie (I forget the name in Georgian).  The flash is on, so you can't see the glowing coals.  It's quite warm.

Some branches, again to get it hot for the second batch of bread.

It doesn't take long to do so.

And once it's down to embers, we roll the dough (see the back of the metal thingie) into a longer form and flatten the ends to make it easier to stick it to the oven's inside (see the top inside of the oven, where she just put one).  To help them stick, salt water is splached on the hot inside of the oven thing and on the dough about to be put in.

Putting another one in.

The metal on the embers is to help keep ash from rising up and to beter distribute the heat (I assume).

And I tried on one of them.

A small batch of bread.

From another side.  I bet you can tell which one I did.

Not exactly what you'd call beautiful, mine.

Scraping them off the walls and taking them out.

A comparison:  normal Georgian bread (and this is the most common variety, though there are many) on the right, my misshapen mess on the left (still tasted good though).

Again, bet you can guess which one's mine.

And a couple better pictures of my elusive host mother (and me).

And my host sister and me.

January 12:

Updated pictures of my room, after new additions.  This is my cabinet.

The bottles on the right (champagne in front-right, and black (in Western terminology, red) wine in back-right) and the box of chocolates on the left were a gift from the president (i.e., to all the volunteers in Georgia) in this festive season (Though I really wish the card they came with had said "Christ is Born" or "Merry Christmas" instead of "Season's Greetings," what can one expect nowadays?  Of course, I wasn't expecting any gifts whatsoever, so I can certainly be grateful at that.).

My prayer corner.

I put up the few paper icons I have here.  From left to right, bottom row:  the Theotokos "Iberia" or "Iveron," which I got at the corresponding monastery near Tbilisi (the second one I went to on my travels); St. Ioanne/John Tornik'e, which I got from the heiromonk in whose cell I spent a few hours my first night on my travels, before the midnight liturgy; the Holy Apostle Andrew, which I got from Fr. Andrew, a monk at St. Michael's Monastery in NM, Canones, and which ended up coming with me here; and Great-Martyr Giorgi/George, given to me by my host sister.  (Since the taking of this picture it's been updated with a Georgian-style icon of Archangel Michael I got at Church.)

January 13:

I was doing some work at school today, and thought you might be interested to see what one of my classrooms looks like (they're pretty much all the same in the school).

January 14:

Making khin'ali.  Yum!

(It's spiced ground pork placed raw into dough and then boiled, for those who may not know what khink'ali is.)

A khink'ali my host mother made, ready to be boiled.

My host sister, folding a khink'ali.

And me giving it a go.

And the completed khink'ali (they're not cooked in this pan, but boiled; this was just a convenient container).  Usually you sprinkle some black pepper, or possibly some of the other spices used in the meat on the inside, on the outside as well, before eating them.  Then you just pick them up with your hands, bite in, and suck while you do so, so as not to waste the juices (which are really good), as it's bad form if you spill.  I should note that (if there are any left) on the second day, you fry them to eat them.  They're really, really good both ways.

So anyway, that's all the pictures I've taken since my last photoentry.  I hope you enjoyed them!

In Christ,

Teopile/Theophilos Porter