Orthodixie

That’s what I should have done for Bright Week on the May church calendar — substituted the words “peanut butter” for “fasting” as in “is forbidden”. Peanuts may be safe, but pigs don’t stand a chance in these parts during Pascha.

Anyway, here’s the news …

The Antiochian Archdiocesan Website has changed. Check it out.

Terry Mattingly’s bang-up piece on the legacy of Archbishop Iakovos:

Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew was furious, seeing this as an effort to weaken ecclesiastical and financial ties with Istanbul. Then Iakovos retired, stunning Orthodox leaders in America. His exit was an earthquake and the aftershocks have not stopped. READ IT!

Oh, and … What Would Jesus Eat?
It was here that I discovered Faith Chick Books.

God help me: Either I gotta get out more or they do.

A while back I posted on Joel Osteen. Here’s a whole file!
Thanks to Mere Comments.

Here’s a promising new Website designed to highlight Orthodoxy in America.

Remember the Stations of the Cross? One PECUSA parish has given them an update — which includes references to the abuses at Abu Ghraib!

St Paul’s Episcopal Church on the Green in East Norwalk, Connecticut wanted a new series of paintings depicting the stations of the cross. The press release announcing the dedication of the paintings is headlined: “Art, Religion and Abu Ghraib – A Connecticut Church Installs Stations of the Cross Referencing the Iraq War and the Prison Abuses at Abu Ghraib.” The release goes on to say, “The resulting paintings combine traditional Christian imagery with references to a year of turmoil in the Middle East, including the war in Iraq and the abuse of prisoners at Abu Ghraib prison.”

The picture above, correct me if I’m wrong, seems to portray a Muslim Simon of Cyrene helping out. GHM.
THX: World.

With Holy Week and all it’s been a little while since I mentioned the Left Reverend Boy Gene … But, a group at the University of the South, Sewanee, wants to give him an honorary degree.

Lord. Have. Mercy.

THX: Classical Anglican.

I hope this finds you, yours, and all manner of things well. Christ is Risen!
The local newspaper reporter did indeed visit this Blog and use quotes from last week’s “interview” for a local story on Orthodox Easter (Pascha).

Fr John Whiteford offers a report on the miracle of the Holy Fire in Jerusalem (among other things). Huw Raphael comments on the same.

Douglas I mean, the Newly Illumined Ian, at Xanthikos, is closing up shop. Many years to him & his family!

More H E R E … H E R E … H E R E … and H E R E.

To all, a blessed Bright Week of the Lord’s Pascha! Indeed, He is Risen!

Through the prayers of our holy fathers, O Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us. Amen.

Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and on those in the tombs bestowing life. (Thrice.)

Having beheld the resurrection of Christ, let us worship the holy Lord Jesus, the only Sinless One. We worship Thy cross, O Christ, and Thy holy Resurrection we hymn and glorify; for Thou art our God, and we know none other beside Thee, and we call upon Thy name. O come, all ye faithful, let us worship Christ’s holy Resurrection, for behold, through the Cross joy hath come to all the world. Ever blessing the Lord, we hymn His Resurrection; for, having endured crucifixion, He hath destroyed death by death. (Thrice.)

The Hypakoe:
Forestalling the dawn, the women came with Mary, and found the stone rolled away from the sepulchre, and heard from the angel: why seek ye among the dead, as though He were a mortal, Him Who liveth in everlasting light? Behold the grave-clothes. Go quickly and proclaim to the world that the Lord is risen and hath slain death. For He is the Son of God Who saveth mankind.

The Kontakion:
Though Thou didst descend into the grave, O Immortal One, yet didst Thou destroy the power of hades. And didst arise as victor, O Christ God, calling to the myrrh-bearing women: Rejoice! And giving peace unto Thine apostles: Thou Who dost grant resurrection to the fallen.

Troparia:
In the grave bodily, but in hades with Thy soul as God: in Paradise with the thief, and on the throne with the Father and the Spirit wast Thou Who fillest all things, O Christ the Inexpressible.

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit.

How life-giving, how much more beautiful than Paradise, and truly more resplendent than any royal palace was Thy tomb shown to be, O Christ, the source of our resurrection.

Both now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

O sanctified and divine tabernacle of the Most High, rejoice! For through thee, O Theotokos, joy is given to them that cry: Blessed art thou among women, O all-spotless Lady.

Lord, have mercy. Forty times.

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, both now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

More honourable than the Cherubim, and beyond compare more glorious than the seraphim, who without corruption gavest birth to God the Word, the very Theotokos, thee do we magnify.

Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and on those in the tombs bestowing life. (thrice)

Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, both now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

O Lord bless!

Through the prayers of our holy fathers, O Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us. Amen.

Thanks to Raphael.

I realize that today through Sunday are slim to none on Orthodox blogging & surfing thanks to the holy services. [Today is “Good Friday” for Orthodox Christians.] But I have to explain the title of this one.

This morning, arriving at church — knowing it was going to be a busy day and hoping not to miss anything — I left my cell phone on.

Before service, I took it out of my pocket and laid it on a shelf in the altar.

My wife, long ago, as a gift to her husband, had set the ring tone on my phone. I don’t think much of it these days.

But I was quickly reminded of its oddity during the great censing at the beginning of the Royal Hours of Great & Holy Friday. Dimly lit church; candles burning in front of the icons; a large Cross with an image of our Lord on it in the middle of the nave; the sweet smell of incense, acapella chanting …

That’s when my phone “rang” …

to the tune of …

“Play That Funky Music White Boy” by Wild Cherry.

(Luckily there were no first time visitors present.)

Which begs two questions.

1) Did anyone else’s Great & Holy Friday service begin this way?

2) Must we now repeat this every year?

As I walked in to the elementary school, I noticed a man up ahead of me wearing a hat similar to one I own. He was tall, lanky, seemed to know the teachers. He was black. I figured him to be the janitor.

I had to stop and ask directions to the library, where my son and others would be reading some of their award winning writings. I’d thought of asking the janitor, but he was too far ahead of me. Was I ever surprised to see the “janitor” sitting in the section reserved for the parents and grandparents. He seemed a nice chap. But as the room filled up with young authors’ kin, all white, I wondered how he felt amid a sea of Caucasians.

Eventually a white woman — really white, red hair, flushed cheeks — arrived and sat beside him. Very close beside him, with other chairs vacant. Ahhh, I get it. At least I did when their blended-race daughter arrived.

My gaze shifted back toward the students. I spotted a young Hispanic gal staring at the mixed-race family. I wondered what she thought. That sort of thing’s no big deal these days, I guess, especially among Hispanics. Right?

I remembered back when I was in middle school one of the white teachers started dating a black man. This would have been around 1973. That gossip grew long legs and provided fodder for kids, parents, staff, church, etc, for quite a while. But the teacher was a class act and she took it all in stride. Last I heard, they were still married.

One of my first weddings as an officiating priest was between a white woman and a black man. I didn’t try to talk them out of it. But I did encourage them toward the reality of such an arrangement in the South. I felt it might be rough for the children. They were determined; I said “I do” and they did.

The students’ talks were now under way. By the way, my son was chosen from among all of his classmates to present his writing, “My Construction Set”. Each classroom of each grade (he’s in the first) was represented.

It came time for the pretty Mexican gal’s reading. Our area being known for apples, where many legal and illegal aliens from south of the border find employment, I quickly wondered about her home life. She opened her mouth and I was stunned. She was articulate.

I thought how silly — Of course she’s articulate! That’s what this is all about, no? What, did you think maybe she was chosen as the token Hispanic?

Her subject? Martin Luther King, Jr. Here was a girl, perhaps in the 2nd grade, speaking about the 60’s and how blacks and whites weren’t allowed to be together back in those days. As she talked of 1968 and the slain civil rights leader, I cut my eyes over to the “mixed couple” and they were staring and beaming. As she finished, I felt foolish. What a jerk.

First of all, the sole black man in the room was not the janitor. The white woman with the red hair was his wife. And the Mexican gal could write and speak clearly. Well, duh.

Which brings me to my son. He did great! I mean really great! His reading had never been clearer; diction near perfect, volume optimal. I was so proud. As his certificate was presented to him, the lady said, “Maybe someday when you grow up, Basil, you can be an engineer and build houses right here in Henderson County.”

Growing up. Now that’s hard to imagine. But I thought about it, mine that is, sitting in that elementary school library, dressed like a priest. And how I have a long, long way to go …