Why are Christians so Judgmental?!

Judgment + a good dose of hypocrisy = one of the top reasons folks are turned off from Christianity. “I love God; it’s those christians I can’t stomach!”

You don't have to go far in the search engines to hear the cries of atheists and other non-believers. I hear this type of criticism on a regular basis - in fact left the church for a time because of those same hypocrites. After all, the non-believer or disgruntled christian will tell you, didn’t Jesus say:

“Do not judge so that you will not be judged. "For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you. "Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?” (St. Matthew 7)

And, while I might digress about the irony of using God’s Word to support the argument of one who denies Him, it’s a claim worth looking into - obviously- because it never seems to go away.

How is it that we become labeled as “judgmental” when all we’re doing is speaking the Truth, .... right? Didn’t Jesus also give us the Great Commission, telling us to spread the Gospel to all nations? Teaching others to obey and follow Jesus’ commandments? (St. Matthew 28) Didn’t Jesus say, “Go and sin no more...” was this casting judgment? Aren’t we to tell others the same?

How are the words of Christ reconciled to us? Where is the balance? As one who is innately opinionated, seeing things mostly in black & white, it’s no stretch to say that I’ve struggled with this dilemma my whole life. When someone I care about makes a poor decision, I have responded with indignation and judment, labeling it “righteous anger” ...just like Jesus casting out the money-changers from the Temple. Meanwhile neglecting to pluck the log from my own eye. It’s painful to admit my internal ugliness here, but who knows... maybe others struggle with the same thing.

At this season in my life, I’ve learned a few things: one, there is a difference between casting judgment and speaking truth and two, that difference involves love and humility. We can speak the Truth about the Holy Trinity, Jesus Christ and Him crucified, without pointing a finger and damning others with vicious words and actions. In this way, I have sympathy for my fellow christians who cling to Jesus as fire insurance, rather than a blessed Redeemer and Father.

St. Paul states it so well in his epistle to the Church at Corinth (1 Corinthians 13) that we may have gifts of men and angels... we may have knowledge and understanding of deep mysteries ... we may give all we have to the poor and yet, without LOVE, we have absolutely nothing. If I give Truth to someone, without love, it is worth nothing. And so, what does it mean to love someone in this way?

Our Lady of Extreme Humility *

It means to speak with humility

to speak, understanding the commandments of God

to speak, acknowledging my sins

to speak because I have a desire for that person to know God

and finally, for me personally, it means to speak and then let it go with prayer...

I had only been attending our Orthodox church for a few months when, as I walked into worship late one Sunday, I realized immediately that we- the congregants- were being chastised by our priest. As I stood quietly in the narthex near the burning candles, you could hear a pin drop between father’s words. He was reprimanded us for immodest dress, bringing cell phones -and not turning them off- into worship, of walking down the aisles at times we should be still, among other things. I could feel my cheeks flush and my spirit subdued , something akin to that emotion of a child, being corrected by a loving parent.

Driving home that Sunday, I had time to think more on Fr. Scott’s words. This sort of thing never happened in my former Protestant church. I can only guess that some folks may have been appalled at such an instance... calling to mind an unrelated comment from an acquaintance, “well, if God can’t love me in my jeans and tank top in church, then He isn’t a God I want to worship anyway...” God looks at the heart, right?

God does look at our heart - yes. And our outward appearance and words testify to the state of our heart. The problem with my acquaintance’s comment is that she disregarded what God says about dressing modestly and appropriate for worship and took on the attitude of:

I am not budging; God can meet me right where I am.

If we were to meet the President of the United States, most of us would not show up in a bathing suit. It’s the same reason I don’t show up to photograph a wedding in a tube top and cut-off shorts. For some reason, though, the worship of our Lord has become, in some places, casual...relaxed... ho hum, irreverent and far from sacred. We are to give God our best, whatever that best may be.

Father’s admonishment was justified. He spoke the Truth to his flock with the love of God. We needed to hear his words; women needed to hear that low-cut dresses and mini-skirts were distracting (for do they understand the struggles of men?) and not appropriate for worship. I was stunned that day, but since then have come to regard this action as one of the greatest things about Orthodoxy. It had the same effect as my Trig teacher making me go to the board to work a problem in class. I learned it internally, not just superficially. The sacred worship of God was upheld here and that felt so liberating!

Love is key. Our life is a shining example to others, as St. John Chrysostom reminds us,

“There woud be no need for sermons, if our lives were shining; there would be no need for words, of we bore witness with our deeds. There would be no pagans, if we were true Christians.”

* This Russian icon of the Virgin Mary (the Theotokos) is very personal to me. It reminds me to seek the foot of the cross rather than a soapbox.

CoExisT

a.k.a. Just Shut Up!

At least, this is what I consider the genuine message to be in this popular bumper sticker. You believe what you want to believe and I’ll believe what I want to believe and everybody’s Truth is subjective. Right? Just leave me alone. Live and Let Live. I won’t tell you to stop working magic and you won’t tell me to stop burning incense before my icons. And in this way, all shall be well.

Only it isn’t.

In this shallow manufactured Utopia, there is an inherent intellectual laziness; one sees borders on the surface, but the labyrinth of decrepit structures supporting this philosophy frequently washes away with the tides -- for if honesty prevails, one must acknowledge the collision between their Truth and their neighbor’s Truth. ie, I don’t mind that my neighbors are cannibals, after all, they live at the other end of the village.

With this article half-written in mind, how timely, I thought, as I stood in worship on Sunday. Bishop THOMAS was with us this day and I am thankful for it. He has a manner of speaking that really drives a point home; no fluff, no pretensions, just Truth -- succinctly. This past Sunday we remembered John the Baptist and the words of our Lord regarding this holy man: “Assuredly, I say to you, among those born of women there has not risen one greater than John the Baptist...” (St. Matthew 11:11) John was afraid of none, save God.

As Bishop THOMAS spoke, John the Baptist’s life came clearly to mind. I could envision what this rugged man might have looked like, living as an ascetic in the wilds of the Judean forest, wearing camel’s hair garments and eating locusts and wild honey. (St. Matthew 3) John was the greatest prophet and fearless in proclaiming Truth, as evidenced by his bold language, calling the Pharisees and Sadducees a “brood of vipers” and pressing them toward repentance for their sins.

Icon of John the Baptist

What a stark contrast John the Baptist presents to the notion of “coexist”, as our culture defines it. The voice of one crying in the wilderness, John was also known as the “forerunner” as he was born to pave the way for Christ, declaring Him worthy of our worship and identifying Christ as the true Lamb of God. I admire John’s fearlessness in the face of persecution. When he could have done the politically correct thing and stayed silent when the King entered into an adulterous relationship with his brother’s wife, Herodias, John the Baptist called it WRONG. He openly criticized what the King was doing and found himself in prison because of it.

Truth abrades those who love sin and Herodias was no exception. She hated John the Baptist for speaking this Truth, hated him so much that when the opportunity arose, she arranged for his beheading, thus marking John as a martyr for his faith. He lived rather to please God than men. God bless John the Baptist.

Fast forward two-thousand years. Our culture is shouting, Coexist!, Live and Let Live! while crossing fingers behind backs that our neighbor’s Truth will not mean our death. Subjective truth collides head-on against God’s prophet, John the Baptist who said, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”

Painting of John the Baptist living in the wilderness by Geertgen Tot Sint Jans (15th century)

If we care anything at all about our neighbor, we will continue to proclaim - with great love - that there is only one God and it is His Truth that defines everything. Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” (St. John 14:6)

--an exclusive statement made for the benefit of all.

St. Aidan; Remembering a Celtic Saint

St. Aidan of Lindisfarne

In just a few days, on August 31st, we’ll be celebrating St. Aidan’s day. He is a Celtic saint of particular interest to me, as his actions remind me of my patron, St. Brigid. Aidan was known for his generosity and the gentle way in which he shared Christ with the inhabitants at Lindisfarne during the 7th century. St. Aidan, by his example, makes me aware of and ashamed of my own faults, such as a short temper and harsh words. I look to St. Aidan as one who truly loved people and the wildness of his surroundings, as his time spent in solitude by the seashore indicates.

Lindisfarne Castle

Lindisfarne, aka, Holy Island, is a tidal island off the north-east coast of England and a sacred place to celtic saints. It was the Irish monk, Aidan who built the first monastery there which later produced the stunning illuminated Lindisfarne Gospels. A much more accomplished task however, was the way in which Aidan shared Christ with the pagan people who were harshly described as stubborn and unreachable by his predecessor, Corman. Aidan's way was gentle, as nourishing babes with spiritual milk to introduce them to the glory of Jesus Christ.

Folio from the Lindisfarne Gospels

Aidan had been invited to Lindisfarne by King Oswald, a christian convert, who sought to bring the true Light to a darkened land. The relationship shared between the two men is one worthy of our attention, as they worked hand in hand, earnestly serving the people they ruled. The King frequently served as an interpreter on their christian missions and it was Aidan’s generosity that inspired the King to do likewise.

In one famous tale, during the Feast at Easter, there was a large crowd of beggars gathered outside the King’s quarters at Bamburgh. Before the King and Bishop Aidan even began to feast, news of the crowd reached their ears. Without hesitating, the King gave to the beggars not only the food from his table, but the silver dishes as well. Bishop Aidan was so touched by this unselfish act, that he prayed the King’s arm, which had distributed such gifts, would never decay. This proved true. Although King Oswald was killed on the battlefield, his arm was saved and remained incorrupt for 9 centuries.

The Venerable Bede, who did not always agree with Aidan, nevertheless, had this to say of his character:

“He neither sought nor loved anything of this world, but delighted in distributing immediately to the poor whatever was given him by kings or rich men. He traversed both town and country on foot, never on horseback, unless compelled by some urgent necessity. Wherever on his way he saw any, either rich or poor, he invited them, if pagans, to embrace the mystery of the faith; or if they were believers, he sought to strengthen them in their faith and stir them up by words and actions to alms and good works."

Bishop Aidan remained on the Holy Island for 16 years and in the Year of our Lord 651, took ill in Bamburgh and died on the last day of August. At the moment of his death, it is said that Cuthbert, who was later to become another saint of the church, was tending his flock of sheep on the Lammermuir Hills. Cuthbert claims he saw a vision of angels escorting Aidan's soul heavenward.

Holy St. Aidan, intercede to Christ our God, that I may emulate your gentleness and care for others!

Lily of the Mohawks

Upon her death, on April 17, 1680 (Holy Wednesday), Fr. Pierre Cholenec states in his journal:

“Then, her face had suddenly changed, which appeared so smiling and devout that everyone was extremely astonished – her face that had transfigured gradually in less than a quarter of an hour, because of smallpox that it left her face scarred from the age of four, which her infirmities and mortification had contributed to ruin her even more. Catherine’s face was so scarred from smallpox and before her death that she took a darken complexion. Then, her face had suddenly transfigured about a quarter of an hour after her death and became in a moment so beautiful, smiling and white. Her face assumed an appearance of a rosy colour that she never had and her features were not the same. Her face appeared more beautiful than when she had been living. I will admit openly of the first thought that came to me that Catherine might have entered into Heaven at that moment.”

*emphasis mine

Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha (1656-1680), also known as Lily of the Mohawks, was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1980. I discovered her story last summer through unrelated reading about Native American spirituality and find that she comes to mind frequently when I contemplate the nature of love and sacrifice. She was the daughter of a captive Algonquin Christian and a non-Christian Mohawk father. The young Native American came to know Christ through her mother and Jesuit missionaries; her life testifies an enduring devotion to Christ.

Kateri suffered much persecution from her people upon her conversion and baptism, but even so, she said she often meditated upon the “dignity of baptism” -- such a beautiful thought.

Her feast day is celebrated in America on July 14th, in Canada on April 17th.

Incidentally, it was in 2008 that I made another related connection: Frederica Mathewes-Green’s podcast, interviewing an Orthodox convert sharing insight on how closely Native American spirituality is with Orthodoxy:

Listen to the Podcast

Common Made Holy: thoughts on Zechariah 14

I'm going green today.... recycling a past post, that is.

Reading Fr. Andrew's sermon, prompted this, as it reminds me of an awakening I first experienced through the celtic saints: that the handprint of God is to be found in all things. The ancient celtic women said prayers as they lit fires, milked the cows and weaved the cloth. It is this awareness of God with us, before us, behind us, above us, encompassing us -that is another treasure of the ancient faith.

I published the following entry in 2005 on a christian message forum, with regard to the common made holy. This was written prior to my coming home to Orthodoxy. Thank you, Fr. Andrew, for your excellent words and reminding me of how intimate our relationship with God truly is.

****************************************************************************

Zechariah 14:20,21 “In that day there will be inscribed on the bells of the horses, “HOLY TO THE LORD.” And the cooking pots in the Lord’s house will be like the bowls before the altar. Every cooking pot in Jerusalem and in Judah will be holy to the Lord of hosts; and all who sacrifice will come and take of them and boil in them. And there will no longer be a Canaanite in the house of the Lord of hosts in that day.” The common made holy. Matthew Henry has this to say about these verses from Zechariah:

Quote:

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The name and character of holiness shall not be so confined as formerly. Holiness to the Lord had been written only upon the high priest’s forehead, but now it shall not be so appropriated. All Christians shall be living temples, and spiritual priests, dedicated to the honor of God and employed in his service.

There shall be a more plentiful effusion of the Spirit of holiness and sanctification after Christ’s ascension than ever before. There shall be holiness introduced into common things. The furniture of their horses shall be consecrated to God. …Travelers shall have it upon their bridles, with which they guide their horses, to guide themselves by this rule. …the common drinking cups they used shall be like the bowls before the altar, that were used either to receive the blood of the sacrifices or to present the wine and oil for the drink-offerings. The vessels which they used for their own tables shall be used to the glory of God…

---

The common made holy… The root of the words translated “holy” and “holiness” is qadas. The verb means “to be consecrated”, “to be dedicated”. Anything that is “holy” is set apart. It is removed from the realm of the common and moved to the sphere of the sacred.

It is important to note that in the Old Testament, holiness is expressed in strict separation, —the clean was to be separated from what was unclean. The New Testament however, the coming of our Saviour Jesus Christ brought a new emphasis and understanding to what is holy. Did Jesus call us to live in strict separation from the sinful world? “I have written you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people— not at all meaning the people of this world who are immoral, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters. In that case you would have to leave this world” St. Paul (1 Corinthians 5:9-10)

Holiness now is not to be rigorously distinct from common life, but woven throughout our lives in every aspect.

but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; because it is written, “YOU SHALL BE HOLY, FOR I AM HOLY.” St. Peter (1 Peter 1:15, 16) Moral purity is NOT separate, NOT distinct from what is “common” or “secular” we are called to live HOLY lives within the world in every regard.

For St. Peter goes on to say: “But you are a CHOSEN RACE, a royal PRIESTHOOD, a HOLY NATION, a PEOPLE FOR GOD’S OWN POSSESION, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; for you once were NOT A PEOPLE, but now you are THE PEOPLE OF GOD; you had NOT RECEIVED MERCY, but now you have RECEIVED MERCY.

Beloved, I urge you as aliens and strangers to abstain from fleshly lusts which wage war against the soul. Keep your behaviour excellent among the Gentiles, so that in the thing in which they slander you as evildoers, they may because of your good deeds, as they observe them, glorify God in the day of visitation.”

The separation is in our moral purity —abstain from fleshy lusts which wage war against the soul…., NOT in what we commonly refer to as ‘secular society’. For wherever the Christian IS, that is where his holiness should be evident. Secular society is a myth, a whispering falsehood of Satan at worst.

©2005 ALT

And the winner is....

Congratulations, Arsenios!

You'll be receiving the beautiful production, from the Little Mountain, by the monks at

Holy Cross Monastery.

Thanks to all of you who entered!

Invictus

William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903)

This Victorian poem, by English poet, William Ernest Henley, has remained on my mind today after watching the film, “Invictus” with Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon last night.

It’s one I’ve not heard until yesterday and find it hauntingly beautiful:

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Invictus, means “unconquered” in Latin. These evocative words found their way into the heart and mind of Nelson Mandela during his many years in prison and provided a much needed sense of inspiration and hope.

I find it encouraging to a weary soul, yet the lines, “Beyond this place of wrath and tears / Looms but the Horror of the shade” revealing of a tarnished hope. Still, it's that mark of the Divine in the human spirit -that unfathomable resilience- that intrigues me so!

DVD Giveaway!

This week, I’ll be giving away a DVD, from the Little Mountain: Reflections on Orthodox Christian Monasticism, (English version) a documentary produced by the monks at Holy Cross Monastery. The short, 32 minute work takes you through a year at the monastery, giving you a glimpse into monastic life -- not to mention the gorgeous changing seasons in West Virginia.

I’ve written about the documentary previously, as I was gifted a copy soon after it was produced in 2008. It’s with great pleasure that I can share this with you. I’ve watched it many times in the last few years and always find it refreshing for the soul.

You can read more about it, as well as other reviews at the Holy Cross website:

Hermitage of the Holy Cross

Watch the trailor here:

Just leave a comment or email me at heartjoys2002(at)yahoo(dot)com to enter your name in the drawing, to be held on Monday, August 9, 2010. Contest limited to residents of USA.

Random Acts of Flowers

I have my friend and mentor, Clayton Spangler, to thank for this wonderful story about artist, Andrea LaHue, and her "random acts of flowers project" in leaving a mark of loveliness upon our Capital City, Charleston, WV. I could use a dose of this type of news everyday.

Look for beauty, find beauty.

Please check out his blogpost to read the full story and see his colorful photographs.

A Friendly Mountain

At the beginning of July, my daughter & I made a trek to western NC to attend the annual gathering of Scottish Clans at the Grandfather Mtn. Highland Games, held at McRae Meadows at the foot of the mountain. We had a wonderful time, although it was way too short. We only had a few hours to catch the music, dancing competitions and vendor tents. Next year we’ll plan to spend an extra night.

Wee one with her new "pet" ...a stuffed Yorkie that looked so real, passerbys kept adoring it

Chance led us to arrive at the festival just in time to hear my favorite Scottish band, Albannach, perform! Their raw, almost tribal sound of drums and pipe are worth the 500 mile trek alone.

Jacquie, of Albannach, below

Aya, to the right

Aya, Colin and Jamesie, of Albannach

The following day we traveled to the top of Grandfather Mountain, well...at least, as far as the road will take you to the Visitor’s Center on top. The mountain is 5,956 feet above sea level with an absolutely breath-taking view of the surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains. If you look to the south, toward Tablerock Mtn., you’ll note the area where the closing scene in the “Last of the Mohicans” was shot.

Cougar and River Otter @ the wildlife habitat

The River Otter was playing with a chunk of ice, probably containing bits of fish

Grandfather Mountain has been named one of the world’s Biosphere Reserves by the United Nations. This exclusive international family includes only 553 reserves around the globe. This diverse region, surprisingly, supports 73 rare and endangered species and at least 200 species of birds have been found to make their home here. A birder’s paradise! (Black Bear @ the wildlife habitat below)

Ah, this place inspired me and my photos hardly do it justice as I didn’t take the time to set up and create any landscape images; there was just too much to do and see and we wanted to experience it all. It is the place that John Muir once wrote about ...after ascending the summit of Grandfather Mountain, “I couldn’t hold in, and began to jump about and sing and glory in it all”

Glory in it all, indeed! We like to visit the eastern shore, too. But while the sand and surf lends itself to feelings of peace and serenity, mountains seem to have the opposite effect; making my adrenaline surge and creative juices flow... breathtaking, exhilarating and a bit nerve-tingling, as we drove back down the mountain. These feelings are the hallmark of my visit to western North Carolina.

The only “bump-in-the-road” , as my friend, Liz would say, occurred while we were at the restaurant and nature museum atop Grandfather Mtn. I noticed my driver’s side rear tire was going flat. Ugh. Since it was just the two of us traveling, and because I don’t have much confidence in changing a flat (just WHERE is my spare located, again?) I did the next best thing I could. I sought out a friendly face of one of North Carolina’s finest.

The lady State Trooper followed me out to my van, followed by a member of the mountain’s maintenance crew (unfortunately I didn’t learn their names) and together, they spent about 25 minutes with me, asking how our vacation was going, if we enjoyed the Highland Games, if I knew the number to call Highway Patrol while on the road...along with various other road-care tips and the locations of service centers on the route home in case I needed to buy a new tire.

They were most generous and friendly; I felt fortunate for the opportunity to meet them. Next, they filled my tire with air and told me the location of their maintenance garage. The good-natured crew said if I would stop by on our way out, they would gladly check my tire again and add more air if needed.

I’m happy to report that we made it home without further trouble and I soon had the tire repaired; we’re ready for our next road trip!

Praise God for creation that sings of His glory; Praise Him for helping hands!

Christ is in our midst, wherever we shall go...

View from Long Point, in the New River Gorge

I should seriously consider renaming this blog, since “Daily” hardly describes my time here. Sigh. Thanks for checking in, anyway. It does my heart good to know this blog is still finding its way in the search engines and can offer some words to people looking for prayers, scripture, or something about the lives of a saint. That is an answered prayer.

This blog is never far from mind though, even in my busiest times I am weaving words together in my mind to share here at a later date. One such occasion was a few months ago, during May as I was on location photographing members from a blue-grass band. The photo shoot - gleefully - took me out to one of my favorite spots in West Virginia: Long Point.

Long Point is accessed by a 40 min. hike into the New River Gorge, eventually arriving at an awesome outcropping of rock and wind-swept tenacious shrubs and evergreens. The view from Long Point is spectacular, with a full-length, unimpeded view of the New River Gorge Bridge in the distance and the New River winding its way through the narrow gorge over 800 feet below. It's a place of inspiration and natural beauty - and, to be able to go to this place and work, well... I feel blessed indeed!

We arrived at Long Point just as the sun rose over the Appalachian Mountains... a glorious morning, with a gentle fog lifting slowly out of the gorge like soothing wafts of incense stretching upward to heaven. It was sheer bliss and I relished the idea of coming back again and again just to sit and watch the dawning of day. How can anyone witness such a singular moment and not see the Creator’s Hand?!

Rhododendron, West Virginia's State Flower

Add to this euphoria my love of photography and the excellent people I was working with and you have a morning that went way too fast. Upon our hike to and from Long Point, I enjoyed the conversation of my companions and realized I was in the company of those who love and serve God. It dawned on me, not for the first time, that where I go, Christ goes... there is no secular society where believers are.

Christ is in our midst; He is and ever shall be!