 |
| Image via |
Rod Dreher has been burning up his little corner of the interwebs lately--so many good posts this past week or so, as he thinks through various aspects of the Benedict Option (for those who aren't familiar with the concept, I refer you to his FAQ on the topic). Last week, he posted a little reflection that included an excerpt of an interview with an Orthodox bishop in Tajikistan. Bishop Pitirim reflected that our modern times have made us Christians soft, that we no longer know what it is to thirst for Christ, to know our own brokenness and need for salvation.
He says:
"Many today want the Church to be a “Church of good people.” But the Church is a hospital. Here all the masks, all the curtains fall away, and a person is seen for what he is. And of course what he is rather unsightly.
People who don’t come to Church for Christ are looking for some kind of comfort, a peaceful state of being. There will be a peaceful state, and comfort—but a different kind. However, we have to grow into that state."
~Bishop Pitirim, The Folly of Comfortable Christianity, (article by Anastasia Rakhlina), pravoslavie.ru, 2/10/15, excerpted by Rod Dreher on The American Conservative blog, October 7, 2015.
 |
| Image via |
I admit, I've struggled a lot with the whys of the more difficult aspects of my life these past years. Why three of my children have to bear such a heavy health burden, why several of them have special needs beyond the health issues, why I have to feel the weight of caring for them so heavily upon my back. Why my own health problems seem so chronic and intractable as I'm trying to be the primary health care giver and just all around caregiver for my kids.
I'm not saying that I've suddenly gotten over that struggle, but the weight feels less burdensome lately. I suppose I realized that everyone (even those who appear to coast through life) has a cross to bear, some podvig that follows them around for the entirety of their lives, a weight on their back, a thorn in the flesh, so to speak.
Without that weight on my shoulders, without that thorn poking me in the side, perhaps I would be too comfortable, too self-satisfied, not aware enough of my need for Christ. My fists would remain closed tightly around the things of this world, instead of being loosed for the peace and grace that is not of this world.
Life isn't necessarily meant to be some comfortable chair that I climb into and then coast through my days. Don't get me wrong: I'm not saying we should actively seek to make our lives more difficult than they need to be, but rather, when faced with the hills and valleys that make up our lives, accept them as part of the larger journey, and look for the blessings and grace in the quiet moments that come along the way.
The spiritual life in particular is meant to be one of struggle, of learning the depths of my brokenness, my continual failures on so many different levels, and seeking healing from the Comforter, the living water from the Savior.
Lord, I thirst. Give me water to drink.
yes, that seems to be exactly how it is. The book of letters "Lord Give Me Wisdom" speaks a lot about this also - including how one of the Crosses is being a Mother and raising children.
ReplyDeleteYou know, one thing that has struck me, listening to the Gospels in the Word of Promise, is that Jesus tells his disciples to take up their crosses and follow Him, even before his Passion--I wonder how that would have sounded to them, in that context?
DeleteI've followed your blog (for the sewing, though I, too, am Orthodox) for some time, but always lurked. This post hit me exactly where I needed it to, today. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for taking the time to comment! I really appreciate it--I don't always know how this stuff hits people; it is nice to know that it is helpful to someone (besides me!)
Delete