On Being Human

Christ in Gethsemane, Vasily Perov

It is difficult to know how to write about what is happening in Ukraine. I've heard many people who would struggle find Ukraine on a map suddenly have a hard and fast opinion about what is happening there and what it is about. I don't intend to add my voice to the fray, and am praying that cooler heads prevail in Washington and that the war ends soon.

That said, I can choose to create a spirit of peace within myself.  St. Seraphim of Sarov famously said: "Acquire a spirit of peace and thousands around you will be saved."  

It is fitting, perhaps, that all this narrative dissonance comes as Lent begins for the Western Church on Wednesday. (We Orthodox still have a week of Cheesefare, but there is still the strong feeling that Lent is upon us).  The temptation toward evil is always present, but the pressure always increases during these times that are set aside to focus especially hard on our spiritual path.

What I want to say is let's all be human.  Remember that there are real people, living real lives who are affected by it all, no matter which side of the border they are on.  That words have power to tear down and build up.  That hatred does no good in the world.  That the world is not black and white.  That lots of people are scared about the future, and that fear comes out in strange ways sometimes.  Kindness is free, and can be given at any time, in any situation.  People are usually fighting tremendous battles that they do not show to the world.  

I think the best thing I can say about it is to repost Metropolitan Hilarion's letter to the diocese from this past weekend: 

Dear in the Lord Brothers & Sisters!

On the threshold of Great Lent, this salvific time of augmented prayer and self-correction, and in connection with events unfolding in the Ukrainian land, I turn to all with a heartfelt plea: refraining from excesses in watching television, following newspapers and the internet, and closing the doors of our hearts to the passions ignited by mass media, to augment our fervent prayers for peace throughout the world, for overcoming enmity and discord, for help for the suffering, for the repose of those who have departed into life eternal and the consolation of their friends and relatives, so that we all first and foremost remain humane and Orthodox Christians in these difficult times.

The approaching Great Lent is the journey to Christ’s Pascha. This path leads us from a state of idleness, impatience, vanity, and constant anxiety to spiritual peace, integrity, humility, and love. These holy traits do not arise within us without effort, but through adhering to the other world in our churches – the world of light, joy, hope, and kindness. Without participating in the divine services of Great Lent, which create a special atmosphere in our homes and in our lives, attaining such a spiritual state is very difficult, it may even be impossible. Striving toward God, establishing peace within our hearts and participating in the sacramental life of the Church of Christ, wherein lies our personal relationship with God, we reduce the level of evil in this world, we inspire others toward labors and spiritual feats of the Gospel, we enhance peace and brotherly relationships, and do not succumb to the temptations of various discords and divisions.

Therefore, I urge everyone to take advantage of every opportunity offered by the Church to preserve peace and goodness in our hearts, to spend this grace-filled time unto our salvation, so that we can all together meet and spend the radiant Paschal night in unity of spirit and brotherly love, in the renewal of all of our strengths and the spiritual joy in the Resurrected Christ and the victory of good over evil! Amen.

+HILARION
Metropolitan of Eastern America & New York
First Hierarch of the Russian Church Abroad

The Fabric of Reality

Yesterday, I mentioned Jonathan Pageau's work in examining symbols and patterns in creation, and seeking to understand the mystic in the fabric of reality.  (If that sounds a little "woo-ey" hold on to your hats).  I've listened to a bunch of his talks this Lent, and have had much to ponder, but yesterday, I listened to a conversation with Glen Scrivener and Pageau that just about blew my mind.  

It was paradigm-shifting. Imagine for a moment that the fabric of the world--of reality--really is enchanted.  That pattern and referential symbol are part of this fabric of reality and that inhabited behaviors are part of affirming and living out that reality.  I'm explaining it poorly, but I highly recommend listening to the talk--it is an hour, but well worth the time.  I took copious notes while listening, and had to stop the video several times to write down and keep up with what he was saying.  

Today is Holy Friday, and I'm meditating on the Cross, and the fractals that Pageau draws from the particular details about Jesus' death on the cross are really important things to meditate on.  How the Place of the Skull (Golgotha) is the place of Adam's skull, and that Christ's blood flows down into the skull to fill it up with resurrection.  That paradise is a mountain upon which the Tree of Life stood, and that when the curtain of the Temple was torn in two at the moment of Christ's death, it was because He had ascended into the High Place.  By His death, Christ revealed to us the purpose of death: transform that death back into the glory that was in the Garden.  So die on purpose in the sense of self-sacrifice.

Cosmos by Jonathan Pageau; there is a lot to unpack in this image

Self-sacrifice is hard work.  It means setting aside resentment and pride and need for the good of others, both as an action and an attitude.  I find I can set aside myself as an action, but often lack a humble or cheerful attitude about it.  More weeds to dig out of my garden.  It strikes me that this is what Kingsnorth was getting at in the bit I excerpted yesterday.  It isn't fun or exciting to put yourself aside or to consistently practice the embodied habits that enforce our belief.  It goes against our instinct of self-preservation.  But it is the radical task before us, and we are given rituals and sacraments to help us on our way back to God and the garden.

On Birth, Death, & Resurrection

I've been reading Paul Kingsnorth for a while, and appreciate his unique voice.  His substack is well worth the subscription.  He is a recent convert to Orthodox Christianity, from a place of atheism; I find the ways that he writes about our humanity very insightful.  Last week, Kingsnorth was interviewed by Jonathan Pageau, another very interesting Orthodox thinker and artist.  One of Pageau's preoccupations is in reading the symbols and rituals in our culture in the context of re-enchantment, which dovetails nicely with my own interest in the subject. 

Image via Uncut Mountain Supply

What I like about Pageau and Kingsnorth is that while they are clear-eyed about the changes in our world, they do so with a hopeful eye to the future, thinking of the birth of something new to come.  They bear in mind the basic human frailty and weakness in the face of passions.

Kingsnorth writes:

"...the useful work now seems to me to be that outlined by [Joseph] Campbell: to conquer death by birth. ...[T]he correct response to a rootless, lost or broken society is ‘the growing of roots’... Pull up the exhausted old plants if you need to - carefully, now - but if you don’t have some new seed to grow in the bare soil, if you don’t tend it and weed it with love, if you don’t fertilise it and water it and help it grow: well, then your ground will not produce anything good for you. It will choke up with a chaos of thistles and weeds. 

This, in practical terms is, the slow, necessary, sometimes boring work to which I suspect people in our place and time are being called: to build new things, out on the margins. Not to exhaust our souls engaging in a daily war for or against a civilisation that is already gone... To go looking for truth. To light particular little fires - fires fuelled by the eternal things, the great and unchanging truths - and tend their sparks as best we can. To prepare the ground with love for a resurrection of the small, the real and the true.

But first, we are going to have to be crucified." 

~The Faustian Fire, Abbey of Misrule Substack, Paul Kingsnorth, April 28, 2021

Image via Uncut Mountain Supply

It seemed a fitting thing on this day of Mystery: Holy Thursday.  A reminder to set our eyes on the road before us.  This morning we relive the establishment of the Mystical Supper in the Eucharist, and tonight we will go through the Passion with Christ in the Twelve Gospel readings.  Tomorrow, we sit at the foot of the cross and lament while we await the third day resurrection.    

"Today, He who hung the earth upon the waters is suspended upon the tree."~Matins of Holy Thursday

The thing I come to at the end of this Великий пост is that the road is long and I am weak and careworn. 

I am counted amongst the foolish women, forgetting to fill my lamp and missing the feast of the Bridegroom.  I am Simon Peter, declaring my love and then betraying it before the cock crows. I am Gestas, the thief who mocked Christ even as he hung from his own cross.  I am ever Thomas, fighting with my doubts in the face of the Risen Lord.  

Dismas and Gestas, 16th century Kievan icon

But I am also the publican who beat his breast in the corner of the temple, asking God's mercy for his sins.  I am Dismas, the thief on the cross who begged mercy in his final hour.  

I am a lumpen stone on the Sculptor's anvil, and the blows of His hammer can shape me into something better.

Behold, I show you a mystery: We shall not all sleep; but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.

For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.

(1 Corinthians 15:51-53)

Talking Tuesday: Kristin Lavransdatter

 

As a kind of Lenten penance project,  I decided I was going to make my way through Kristin Lavransdatter.  There are many of my acquaintance who love this triology for its spiritual depth and beauty; I thought surely I would love it too.  I tried reading it several years ago, but gave up in the first chapter.  It was so slow, so overfull of description of 14th century Norway.  

This Lent, after reading another glowing recommendation in a Substack newsletter, I thought, I must read this book, even if it is a slog.  The first couple of chapters were again exceedingly slow.  Kristin is a seven-year-old child at the beginning, and it was difficult to get into her as a character.  But Sigrid Undset didn't win the Nobel Prize for Literature for nothing.  She carefully weaves in the story of Kristin's parents, Lavrans and Ragnfrid, while we wait for Kristin to mature.  I admit, I was more captivated by their story (and continue to be, if I'm honest).

I'm nearly to the end of Book 2: The Wife, and after 650 densely packed pages, we hit gold.  There are some glimmers at the end of Book 1: The Wreath, as well as threaded through The Wife, mostly from the story of Lavrans and his wife.  Lavrans is an extremely pious and ascetic man, a good man, who provides well for his family and household, is an upstanding member of the community.  He keeps all the fasts of the church year (both in food and marital relations) and drinks only with joy, never sorrow.  Lavrans is oblivious to to his wife's emotional and sensual needs until they have been married 20 years and he learns more about her.  

Lavrans pulls his wife aside at the end of Book 1 to talk to her during the celebration of Kristin's wedding.  Things Are Revealed that shake Lavrans to his core, although he does not show this to his wife, who thinks her revelations mean nothing to him, that she is nothing to him.  She continues to shrivel inside, although she does not show this to anyone.  It is only when Lavrans is an old man, approaching the end, that he and Ragnfrid reach real understanding, emotional connection, and rapprochement.  It is a beautiful thing to read, but also bittersweet, since it came so late in their lives together.  

Kristin, on the other hand, is a train wreck of epic proportions.  It is hard to read all the poor decisions she makes in her life that put her where she is by the end of Book 2, but at the same time, the spiritual revelation she has then is a glorious and beautiful thing.  But again, it comes so late.  

The recurring theme (to my mind at least) is how much we can hurt those closest to us by being willfully blind to our own faults and failings.  It is entirely possible to erect a Potemkin village of a life that shatters in the least wind.  We have a responsibility to the world more generally, but close to home more specifically, to soften our hearts and see our own faults and work to overcome them (and in a Christian context, we do this with God's help and the sacraments He gave us, including confession and repentance).  

O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, despondency, lust for power and idle talk.

But grant unto me, Thy servant, a spirit of purity, humility, patience and love.

Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own faults and not to condemn my brother. 

For blessed art Thou unto the ages of ages. Amen.

~The Prayer of St. Ephrem the Syrian, prayed daily during Orthodox Lent.

I suppose another theme is that it is never too late to try to put things right and start again.  Lavrans goes to his grave having made peace with the world and his wife.  Kristin has seven sons and is married a long time before she really understands how she has wronged her husband, but her revelation brings her to her knees.  I'm curious to see where this new understanding will take her in Book 3: The Cross, as she becomes an old woman.

Watchful Waiting: Holy Saturday

From Holy Week and Pascha published by Holy Transfiguration Monastery

Hindsight is easy.  It is easy to look back on events and say, "Oh, of course," or to have a better understanding of the whole course of things than when you are in the midst of them.  I keep thinking about how Saturday is a day of waiting, that day between death and resurrection. 

On the day of crucifixion, all those years ago, the disciples and women with them retired to an upper room to wait out the Sabbath and remainder of the Passover holiday, unable to even properly bury the man they called Messiah.  Their grief must have been intense, for they did not know what waited them the following day. 

All they knew was the fathomless grief of the loss of the man they had loved, and who had loved them like no other. And there was nothing to do but wait.  The Jewish laws regarding the Sabbath must be observed on pain of stoning, and they would have to wait to anoint the body on Sunday.

Little did they know that an empty tomb would await them on Sunday morning.

This morning, I remembered Lents past which were agonies of waiting, of seemingly endless Saturdays.  The year that Philip died, I was churched on Clean Monday (the first day of Lent).  I was still in the depths of my grief, and wondered whether we would ever have children, as my underlying fertility problems had made Philip's conception difficult.  I spent the Fast in a daze, and sleepwalked through that Holy Week. 

The Pascha service was chaotic at the monastery where my husband was attending seminary, with dozens of tired children and their exhausted parents. I spent most of the service joggling the restive youngest child of a friend with three children under four.  My husband and I took the Paschal flame to Philip's grave in the dark of the night, sheltering the flame from the wind.  There was still snow on the ground. 

Little did we know that we would welcome Piglet about nine months later. 

The year Birdie was a baby, she spent Lent in and out of the hospital with respiratory crisis after crisis, as we struggled to get to the bottom of what was ailing her.  I watched her fall further and further behind, my heart in my throat, wondering if she would ever walk or run or play like other kids.  I wasn't even sure it was a good idea to take her to any of the Holy Week or Pascha services, she was so fragile.  On Holy Saturday, for the first time, she was able to hold her head up by herself for a few minutes while propped in a Bumbo.  She was 8 months old at the time.  Bright Week landed her inpatient for a week in the hospital again, tubes and wires everywhere. 

Little did we know that she would not only walk and jump and run, but would be one of our most recklessly physical kids. 

This Lent has been marked by lockdowns and quarantine, virtual church and school, heroic health care and essential workers, economic uncertainty, and fear of a stealthy virus that snakes its way through our world, leaving death and destruction in its wake.  We don't yet know what comes next, as we wait on this long, seemingly endless Saturday.

But we do know what the disciples and Mary and the women did not know on that Sabbath long ago:

Sunday is coming. 

But today, we wait.

It's Friday...But Sunday's Comin'

There are many things I've missed in the past five weeks, and I have some sadness about that.  One of them is our school's reading fundraiser, which was held remotely during the second week and a half of lockdown.  Under normal circumstances, the 12 days of competitive reading in the grammar school would have kicked off with a story night, and the school days punctuated by fun book drawings, reading-related games, and culminate in the exuberant costumed Literature Day celebration.  Younger kids especially tend to make huge leaps in reading ability during this time, so it is exciting to see that fruit.

Each grade has varying levels of internal competitiveness, but Piglet's grade has always been insane, and Piglet's minute totals are always astonishing.  He looks forward to it all year, and starts plotting his strategy early.

This was his last year to participate competitively, and one thing I've enjoyed during this time in previous years was volunteering to be a mystery reader in his class.  I had picked out my book and story months ago, in anticipation: Tony Campolo's Tell Me a Story; I planned to read "It's Friday, but Sunday's Comin'.  It seemed the perfect thing to read in late March in the middle of Lent.

A little background as to why I like that story.  A couple of years ago, we spent a long October weekend in Minnesota for a family wedding on my Dutch side.  On the Sunday after the wedding, we all gathered in the back yard at my aunt and uncle's house and had a time of sharing and singing because that is what we do when we get together.  My uncle loves Campolo's book and read a couple of stories from it, including that one.  I wish I had an audio recording to share, because it was unforgettable: my taciturn Dutch uncle reading that story with such enthusiasm and emotion.  I still hear his voice in my head when I think of the title.

I wanted to share that story with Piglet's class, this is last year that I could do so as they will move into the upper school next year.  And perhaps there will be a way to catch all those things up in the fall, but somehow I doubt there will be the time. 

And so on this strangest of Holy Fridays, during these times of death and destruction, uncertainty and anxiety, as everything we knew before has washed away in the floods of the pandemic, I will say this:

It's Friday! 


But Sunday is coming.

Gastronomy of Lent

I know it is a little strange to be posting about Lenten recipes during Holy Week, but food has occupied an inordinate amount of my week for quite a while now--meal planning, grocery buying, cooking, and washing dishes for four growing children and two adults take up a fair bit of time.  

*This post is a bit long, but the photos and recipes are about half way down*

 

I had grown weary of the grind of it, as my kids all had an insane growth spurt in the past year, and I just could not keep up with the food.  Pounds and pounds and pounds of produce and all the other things that make up home cooking and eating.  Imagine making the equivalent of Thanksgiving dinner night after night after night for months.

I'm not an elaborate or fussy cook.  I don't care about a pretty plate, or nice dishes, or whatever.  I only recently started serving food on the table instead of from the stove because the children were finally old enough to handle it.  (The stove is less than four feet from said table, but still).  Most of the time I serve the food in whatever it was cooked in.  

Because I'm classy like that.  

(Real reason: no dishwasher, so I'm washing everything by hand, day in and day out; I cannot see the point of creating extra washing for myself except on special occasions).

I'm a plain decent cook with a Midwestern food background and a family that doesn't particularly go in for casseroles, which are calorie dense, crowd and budget friendly, and kitchen efficient.  Combined with the rhythm of the Orthodox fasting discipline, which entails a vegan menu for about 2/3 of the year.  It is enough to make a body crazy.

Did I mention that half my family will not or cannot eat beans?  And one of my children refuses to eat potatoes in any form whatsoever?  And two of them will only eat sweet potatoes with ketchup under some duress?  (I shouldn't complain--my kids really do eat a lot of fruit and vegetables without complaint, and are big fans of lentil soup, but their palette is narrow).  One logistical challenge of my house is that root vegetables barely keep a week in a cool dark place because it is so damp here, and I don't have fridge space to keep them cold for weeks. 

Sometime in February, desperation set in, as I contemplated the coming Lent with the weeks and weeks of vegan food that at least half the family refused to eat on a regular basis.  My own food limitations mean that almost all vegan protein is right out.  Too much grain or fiber makes me really sick, so I'm not able to keep the discipline with the others, and often not able to eat what I make for everyone else.  So there's that.  

A dear friend mentioned a cookbook that she has used with her family for some time, with some modifications.  I bought a used copy and had a flip through it and despaired for all the fiber and beans and other things I was certain my children would eschew immediately.  But I was determined to get away from processed vegan protein products, which are largely soy-based (and thus intolerable for me) and also very expensive for the size of our family.  My fasting repertoire had grown overly reliant on them.

Nevertheless, when I started stocking my Lenten pantry (with a little extra here and there for the coming lockdown), I decided I was going to make things with cabbage and beets and legumes and the kids were going to try them.  For some bizarre reason, I tolerate both vegetables reasonably well if cooked to a fairly soft state, and I have a weakness for Slavic soups and pirogs (similar to hand pies and sold as street food in Russia). 
 

To my utter surprise, almost everything new that I made this Lent went over reasonably well with the kids.   

Now it may be a quirk of the circumstances: the kids were aware of everything going on in the world, of my efforts to ration/inability to restock, and therefore not be wasteful about food, but I'm hoping this is a new chapter for us.  I still can't keep a full discipline, and not everything new I made is something I can have myself, but there are enough things I can eat to remove some of the burden of having to prepare a second thing for myself most of the time (or to over rely on toast and cereal, which can be problematic). 

I take no credit for any of these recipes except the Taco Pasta, but just note my modifications either to make them vegan or to suit preferences.  Most of these things I made several times.

She ain't pretty, but the tikka malasa was a big hit, and, even better, didn't make my house stink of curry (bleck).

The non-Slavic thing I made was chickpea tikka masala--almost everyone liked that.  I made it twice (and plan to make it tonight) and my modifications were to use dried ginger instead of fresh, tomato sauce instead of diced tomatoes since my kids didn't love the chunkiness of the first iteration, and to use just a dash or two of cayenne pepper to hold down the heat level.  (I find three flicks of the wrist are about enough for most dishes with my family).  I also used an immersion blender to make it smooth and three cans of chickpeas instead of two.

First iteration of shchi

This shchi recipe was a big hit with all my kids, and they specifically requested I make it because they remembered having it at a Russian friend's house once.  I made it twice; the first time I made it exactly like the recipe notes, but we discovered it is not fun to bite into whole peppercorns and the kids don't like diced tomatoes.  So the next time I just sprinkled some ground pepper and added a couple squeezes of ketchup to get the flavor without the chunks.  An 8 oz can of crushed tomatoes or tomato sauce would probably have the same effect.  Or even a good dollop of tomato paste.  

Second iteration of shchi.  Funny story.  My husband asked me before bedtime one night if I could eat shchi (щи), but the first letter is difficult for him to pronounce and I heard "sheep".  It was so out of context that I stared at him for a moment and said, "Do I eat sheep?  Not if I can help it." He laughed and tried again to say the word which then just sounded like "she".  I laughed and said the word for him to hear, and he tried again, but without success. We ended laughing.

I also used a cole slaw mix (just shredded cabbage and carrots) to save time plus no-chicken stock, but the second time I had a whole cabbage head courtesy of a friend, and just cut it as finely as possible.  The kids said they liked the second version better.  I highly recommend serving with fresh or dried dill as garnish.  If you aren't fasting from dairy, it is very good with a dollop of sour cream.

This borscht recipe had slightly mixed reception both times I made it, but everyone ate it without complaint (having a good bread option on the side was helpful).  I used 2 cans of drained beets to save on mess and work, and just kind of chunked them up in the pan with a knife.  No-chicken stock.  I also combined steps and did the mirapoix in the pot first, adding the beets second because they were already cooked, and the first time I made this, it was so much work to clean up the extra pots and pans.  I used a prechopped mirapoix and added the bell pepper.  I also recommend serving with fresh or dried dill as garnish, and a dollop of sour cream if not fasting from dairy.  

This can also be made non-fasting by using beef or chicken stock and using cooked shredded or diced beef or cooked shredded or diced chicken.

My pirog method is pretty lazy, and I adapted to make it vegan, so I've detailed it below, but look at the link to see how to wrap the dough. 

(Lazy) Savory Cabbage-Apple Pirog (adapted from Natasha's Kitchen)

2 cans pizza dough

1 package cole slaw mix (shredded cabbage and carrot)--about 3-4 cups total

1 large onion sliced finely (diced is okay too)

1-2 large apples, cored, diced small, skin on

1/2 tsp minced garlic (or to taste)

salt/pepper to taste

oil for sauteeing

Preheat oven to 425 or whatever pizza dough recommends.  Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a large skillet, add 2 or so tablespoons of a neutral oil (or olive if you like) and add onion, cabbage and carrot, keeping onion to one side of the pan.  Allow to brown on medium heat, stirring every so often to keep from burning.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Combine cabbage and onion in pan and move to one side and add apples (my kids preferred two).  Saute until softened and then mix thoroughly in the pan.  

The filling makes an excellent side dish as well.

Take parchment liners from baking sheets and place on counter, and open first tube of dough.  Spread out evenly with your fingers, and then use a smooth glass or rolling pin to stretch dough further, to get to a 1/4" or less thickness.  Divide the cabbage mixture in half, and place half in the center of the dough, spreading it evenly and leaving a 2" edge all the way around the dough (see recipe in link for visual).  Pull the edges toward the center starting at the corners and make an oblong pocket with a star shape in the center.  Pinch seams to seal, and press dough lightly to distribute filling evenly.  Carefully transfer filled dough on the parchment to the baking sheet.  Repeat for the other dough and rest of cabbage mixture, and bake about 15 minutes or until golden brown.  Remove from parchment and cut into rough wedges and serve.  Can be reheated in a toaster oven later.

You can change the filling to whatever you like: potatoes or mushrooms, straight apples, ground meat or chicken or make a variety. 

Taco Pasta

1 box whole wheat rotini

1-2 cans black beans, drained and rinsed

1 package meatless crumbles (optional; if using, reduce black beans to one can) 

oil for fry pan

1 bell pepper, diced

1 onion (red is nice if you have it, but white is fine too), diced
10 oz. baby spinach (fresh)

1/4 cup frozen white corn (this is approximate)

1/3 cup sliced black olives (a 2 oz. can is fine)

1 packet taco seasoning

approx. 1/4 cup mild salsa (I like Tostitos)

Cook pasta according to directions.  While that is going, saute pepper and onion in a fry pan with some oil until nicely browned.  Push to the side and saute the spinach until wilted. When the pasta is drained, return to pot, and add corn, olives, taco seasoning, meatless crumbles if using, and salsa.  Mix thoroughly and add sauteed vegetables.  Serve with salsa and/or guac.  Makes a fairly robust recipe; our family can easily eat it twice.

This wasn't a new recipe, but I haven't made Grechka with Mushroom Gravy and Roasted Vegetables for a few years, and this time, everyone liked it!  Mods to make it vegan are to use margarine in place of butter and oatmilk in place of dairy milk.  I also used a food chopper to pulverize the cooked mushrooms so the kids wouldn't recognize them (worked a treat!)

There were a couple of old stew recipes using black beans pureed to hide them that sort of worked, and I'll probably add those into the larger rotation again as well.  

Image via

 Whew!  I've been meaning to type this up for a while, but...things.  And perhaps today is a good day to post it, as it is the day we mark the establishment of the Mystical Supper and the Eucharist, God's food for body and soul.

Talking Tuesday: Ontology and Telos

I've been pondering how to write this all day, and not really knowing how to start, so perhaps best to start in the middle and work outward.  I should also say that this is very short and preliminary, and probably is going to be something I'm noodling through for a long time, so don't take any of this as definitive, but rather the start of a long conversation.

On a recent phone call with a dear friend, I said, "If my 30s were all about ontology, I think my 40s are going to be about telos."  She laughed, but understood what I meant.  Long-time readers will know that I've written a fair bit about the ongoing existential crisis of motherhood, and I think I spent a lot of the past decade trying to parse that.  Who am I?  What am I made for? What am I doing?  These are the basic questions of ontology.  Becoming a mother brought a lot of those questions to the forefront for me, and I thought a lot about them (mostly through the Twilight series, but a number of more serious books as well). 

While I'm not sure any of us can ever definitely state that we know the full depths of our selves, or that we've completely sorted the basic ontological questions, at a certain point, I think you can start to say to yourself, This is Who I Am.  Maybe it isn't a particularly articulate ontology, but you begin to have light on the darker corners of yourself, and can sketch more of a whole picture in your mind.

Lately, however, I find myself occupied with questions of telos.  Telos, in some ways, is a far bigger question, but it naturally follows the ontological ones.  Ontology asks "what," but telos asks "why."  Why am I here?  Why am I?  Where is the meaning of everything located?  I sense in the larger culture a nihilistic impulse that is hard to resist.  It is hard not to feel despair, easy to find no meaning in the day-to-day grind of life. 

I could write fancy pat theological answers to those large questions, and the theological answers are good and right: we are here to pursue God, to find our life with Him, to seek the beauty in creation, to find salvation.  But those are amorphous, and difficult to get a handle on somehow. 

Seek peace and pursue good.  That is something repeated a lot in the services of the Church, and while maybe still not concrete, a good thing to hold on to.  But then the next question is: What is good?  How do I find peace?

I used to be able to answer these questions without hesitation, without question, with theological certainty.  But I find as I've experienced hard things, and then even harder things, that I have less certitude than I did previously.  Perhaps that is normal and part of the course of things. 

I do know that the answer to those questions is located outside myself, and within the Church, and in seeking I will find, but man, the road is long and winding.  I suppose the way to find them is to excavate the truth in the Liturgy (I've had a post brewing about this for some time), to stay present with the texts, the rhythms and musical phrases, and let them sink down deep into me.

The past few years I've sung the Hymn of Kassiani during the Holy Tuesday Bridegroom Matins at a local parish.  (It is the only time during the liturgical year that this hymn is sung).  The parish is Slavic-oriented, but the priest broad-minded, so he has graciously allowed me to sing it Byzantine-style.  Sung in Byzantine chant, it is probably one of the harder pieces of vocal music for a singer to master.  The piece slides between two tones, one minor, one major, with lots of "in between" notes; staying within the musical phrasing and not losing the meaning of the textual phrasing is a feat.  I always go into it with fear and trembling.  But the text always haunts me, the great lament of it that seems to rise up from my bones, particularly toward the end.  There is a great stillness that seems to accompany it, as the sound rises to the top of the nave.

Perhaps the way toward telos is to be mindful and remember those moments when something buries itself into your soul, and gives you a hook to hold on to. 

7 Quick Takes: All the Random Things

I haven't done these for a while, but I have some odds and ends to blog about, so here goes!

~1~

Valentine's Day always coincides with the eve of one of our Twelve Great Feasts: the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple (also called Candlemas in the Western church).  So it has always been a rub.  

My husband isn't really one for romantic gestures or gifts in general, so the whole breakfast in bed thing didn't happen, but we did have a nice dinner as a family on the 13th.  He made risotto (an old favorite of ours) and it was delicious.  The kids didn't really like it (more for us!) but it was fine.  I'm not much of a one for alcohol, but we had a bottle of Prosecco, and that was nice.  I got some mini chocolate cheesecakes for dessert from Whole Foods and they were wonderful.

~2~

The best part of having risotto is making al-salto afterward with the leftovers.  It is basically a big buttery cheesy rice pancake.  (My apologies to my Catholic readers who started Lent on Wednesday; we're still in Cheesefare week, so bring on the dairy until Monday!)

~3~

I finished another cowl:

I didn't have quite two full skeins, so it is a little skimpy on the circumference, but it gets the job done.  Black Swish, size 9 needles, 45 stitches wide, gartered until I ran out of yarn and then seamed up the middle.  Easy-peasy.  I wet-blocked it in the washer and stretched it out on my drying rack to make it slightly bigger.  I made a red one just like it to go with my Christmas flannel dress.  (For the record, I didn't make it for Christmas, just for the winter, but ended up wearing it on the day).

~4~

Orthodox Lent starts on Monday.  'Nuff said.

~5~

I'm revisiting the mid-to-late 1990s with my movie watching lately.  I couldn't say why I suddenly went back to a bunch of films that were important to me at that time, but there it is.  (For anyone interested in titles, they are, in no particular order: Firelight, Dangerous Beauty, City of Angels, Dejavu, Passion of Mind).  I just found out that City of Angels is based on a German art house film, and I'd like to see it to compare.  (And yes, I know the theology in that movie is seriously messed up, but I still like the story).  I also have in mind to rewatch Message in a Bottle and Moulin Rouge at some point as well.

~6~

I picked up The Shires' album Brave after seeing them perform on an old episode of Graham Norton.  I think it will be a good album.  I've been listening to Home Free on amazon music (I have all their albums).  They are just.so.good.

~7~

My kids are off school from today through Tuesday for President's Day week (what the freaking what??) so I don't think I'll be getting much done in the next five days.  I have to say, after almost six solid weeks of illness, plus the 2 week winter break that proceeded it, I'm having a hard time getting back into the swing of things.  

And just for the record, between January 1-February 15, our family has three major Church feasts, one birthday, three namesdays, one baby memorial day, one secular holiday, and, this year, the Lenten Triodion.  It has kind of felt like a feasting free-for-all, and I'm having a hard time staying track with my diet.

Scratch that.  I was actually doing just fine until last week. That was when Ponchik had her adenoids out, and I was still pretty sick, Birdie got a secondary ear infection and both girls were up all night the night before the surgery.  I've kind of been off the rails since then (I gained almost five pounds in the past week--argh!)

I realized (again!) how much sleep affects my ability to make good decisions in the kitchen.  I'm still getting over the illness, and have to pace myself so I don't get too tired, so that is a factor as well.  (Hence all the movie watching in the past few weeks--I am not writing very much, but I am getting a lot of knitting done!)  I suppose it is good that Lent starts on Monday; I'm hoping it will help me find my discipline again.

That's all for me!  Go see Kelly for more Takers of Quick.

Thus Do You Fare, Lord Jesus?

I wrote the following poem my senior year in college to introduce an orchestral setting of J.S. Bach's "Thus Do You Fare Lord Jesus?" which is the musical theme of the St. Matthew Passion.  I had just started attending an Orthodox church (my first since returning from Russia in 1998) and was a serious inquirer, but not yet a catechumen.  I was received into the Church the following year.  The italicized portions are from the hymn O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High, attributed to Thomas A'Kempis.

It seems fitting to share it today.

Thus Do You Fare

We are the ones for whom Jesus died.

We are the thief at His side.

O Love, how deep, how broad, how high...

We are Simon, carrying the cross,

We are Peter, weeping with his loss.

Shun not suffering, shame or loss--

help us Lord, to bear our cross.

We are the disciples who ran away,

We are the soldiers who pierced His side,

We are the darkening of the day,

We are the ones for whom Jesus died.

Ah, Holy Jesus, how you have offended...

We are the crowd who mocked and jeered.

"Crucify Him!" We rudely sneered.

We are Judas, betraying with a kiss,

30 pieces of silver our only list.

For us, to evil power betrayed, scourged

mocked in purple robe arrayed, 

He bore the shameful cross and death...

We are the the nails in His hands and feet,

We watched the soldiers as they beat,

We wept at the foot of the cross,

For ours was the infinite loss.

For us gave up His dying breath...

"It is Finished!" Hear Him cry.

"IT IS FINISHED!"

Jesus died for you and I.

~2 March 2000

Italics from the hymn, O Love How Deep, How Broad, How High, by Thomas A'Kempis

Foxglove and Holy Week plans

My sewing goal in March was to get through most of the stack of fabric I had set aside for the girls.  Most of it was for Birdie's summer wardrobe, but I had a few things that I was going to make for Ponchik as well.  I'm nearly through the stack (I have two more matching dresses to make for them for Ascension/Transfiguration and a surprise birthday dress for Ponchik, but otherwise, I'm done).

Yesterday was Palm Sunday, and the girls wore the matching dresses I made for the day.  (I will try to write a bit about the pattern soon because I like it)  They will work nicely for Pentecost as well, sans the black undershirts.  They ended up taking them off in the afternoon because it was so warm.  We went to Bridegroom Matins at one of the cathedrals in town and they had a nice Lenten meal afterward.  I'm pleased to report that I successfully ate Russian-style pierogi last night!!  I haven't had bread in more than two years because of all my swallowing woes, so this was a major treat for me.  I don't think I'll be eating sandwiches any time soon, but it was so nice to eat something I love so much (and makes me miss Russia!) and not have too much trouble with getting it down.  (I did make sure to have plenty to drink with it, and ate carefully with tiny bites).

And finally: the Foxglove Dress.  I nearly took this one out of my rotation (in fact, it was sitting in a pile until last night, when I decided to give it a shot and got out the steamer).  It was one of those "what was I thinking?" dresses.  I bought the fabric in February when I was wishing for something bright and cheerful.  I liked it when it arrived, but it washed up oddly--instead of softening nicely, it stayed kind of papery and stiff.  And oh, the static!!   

Every time I tried it on, it made me crazy.  I was disappointed a) because I was looking forward to having an orange dress in my spring rotation and b) because I've bought from Cloud 9 before and had a great experience.  My First Light dress remains a well-worn favorite of spring.  Cloud 9 fabric isn't exactly cheap either, so I was sorry to potentially lose the investment as well.  I washed it a second time and hung it to dry and hoped that would help some.  It did soften slightly, and most of the static has gone out of it, so I think it is okay.  I think the factory used a bit too much sizing on this particular bolt, so it will just take some more washing to get it nice and soft.

I also think I needed warmer weather to want to wear it.  I just couldn't get excited about a thinnish orange dress when I was shivering in my Uggs in early March.  But the next two days are supposed to hit 80, and it is quite pleasant this morning, so I think I'm going to say this one can stay in my closet. 

The fit is good, I think the color is decent on me (sunburned cheeks and lips from standing outside after church yesterday notwithstanding!) and I feel comfortable in it.  I even have on stockings today instead of full tights!  I can't believe the crazy weather we are having.  But that is spring around here, I've found--it is cold, it is warm, it is cold, it is cold some more, then it is warm, then cool, then it gets super hot and stays hot for the rest of the summer.

I like the print--it is interesting.  I think a taupe cardigan would look nice with this dress too.  I did have to pay attention when I was cutting to make sure the flowers were heading in the right direction.  I realized as I was laying out the pattern that it was a directional print!  Thank goodness for small mercies.

I'm leaving my sewing machine in the cabinet this week.  It is Holy Week, and we are in the middle of 12 days of morning-and-night services.  Since Old Calendar Annunciation fell on Friday (4/7), it added a few more days of services to the intensity that is Holy Week.  I'm also pretty tired right now and my last couple of makes have had some mishaps.  I was able to rescue them, but I think I need a break now.  I still have a few things to make for my summer, plus the girls' dresses, and I think it will be good for me to have those to look forward to after Bright Week.  I sometimes get a bit of letdown after big feasts, and I find it is helpful to have a project at the ready.

Image via

I plan to make Pashka on Saturday sometime (my recipe is very quick and doesn't require cooking or draining) and I'm considering making kulich for the first time this year.  I have two small soup-size cans saved and I want to make a half-recipe.  Kulich kind of scares me (even though I've made plenty of yeasted breads before), but I think I just need to do it.  A good friend gave me her tried and true recipe, so hopefully it will all turn out okay.

Just the facts:

Foxglove dress: Simplicity 1080 (redrafted), Cloud 9 foxglove fabric, tango vintage bias tape, elastic

Stockings: o-socks in navy from sock dreams

boots: KadiMaya from amazon

Cardigan: H&M

Earrings: etsy