Ministry of Alienation

 

Photo by Phil Hearing on Unsplash

I think we use the word "practicality" as a disguised synonym for "in control." When I think of something that seems worthwhile, often I deny it to myself because of the "practical" aspect of my work. Practicality often seems to be associated with predictability, familiarity, a sense of stability that has the illusion of being in your hands.

A few waves of life crashing upon the sand castle of practicality reveals how fragile that idol is. To teeter within that sand castle is a life of anxiety, of having to make sure that everything fits within a set limit of boundaries. It means that there is no room for diversion. And greater the diversion from that tightly clung-to practicality, the greater the fear when diversion occurs.

A common retort for the lives of saints is that not everyone can live that way. In reality, it's that not everyone will live that way. I can think of two sayings from the saints, "there is no such thing as a Christian who does not fast" and "No Christian can be filled with food and also with the grace of the Holy Spirit." What they are trying to say (at least what they say to me) is that there is no true Christian who clings to practicality.

Perhaps fasting for certain periods of time can have health benefits. But the Orthodox Church would have her members fast for almost half the year. The "practical" excuses for why this isn't a good idea for health reasons is in opposition to the history of the Church. I remember a story from the childhood of Elder Cleopa. Not only did his family make it a daily rule to only eat two meals a day, he and his brothers - as children - would regularly keep vigil (that is, stay up past midnight to pray, typically until 3am). His family didn't do modern office work. They were farmers and manual laborers.

Reading stories of such great love toward the Lord leave me with questions of credibility. To my shame, children fast and pray through the night after a full day of farm work while I think of excuses as to why I can't pray "too long" at the end of a "long" day of working from home.

I think we have to start unbelievably small. Most Christians have never fasted, let alone prayed through the night, even when tragedy strikes. We're still clinging to practicality. Like David, do we seek Him in the night watches? Do we rise at dawn to search for Him?

Kids bring questions to their parents that may initially seem insignificant, but their parents answering these smaller questions builds trust to approach the parents for help with larger questions and life problems when they get older. I feel like it makes it more real when something more “serious” occurs and I pray because I’m so used to that established trust in God for smaller things.

Fasting is just one example I thought of. It is a relatively small thing. What happens if you feel led to go in a different direction for your life? The establishment of those smaller things are the foundation for faithfulness. In the first episode of "The Lord of Spirits" podcast, Fr. Andrew Damick says this:

"You get middle-aged, you eat hot wings and pizza and stuff, and your innards are going to let you know later in the day—maybe immediately—that that was not the best thing to do. So what do we do when we have acid and indigestion? You take antacids, chew up those little pills—I like the mint-flavored ones—and you feel better, and that’s all there is to it. You had a problem, so you took a medicine, and, boom, you’re better, right? There’s nothing wrong with that, but what point along that continuum of experience and response did I include anything having to do with God or the saints?"
 

If the idea of having acid indigestion sounds like it’s too trivial to involve God in, then that means that you are a materialist by habit. And I am. I think everybody listening to this probably is. Now, it’s possible that there’s some very spiritual people who are listening to this who aren’t, and if you are, please pray for us! But I think most of us are materialists by habit.

The other example I give is if someone—I’ve experienced this many times as a pastor—someone gets sick, they go to the hospital. After they’re at the hospital, they call the priest. It’s interesting the order, right? First, let’s go get the medicine, and then after that we’ll add some prayer. There’s nothing wrong with the medicine, there’s nothing wrong with going to the hospital, there’s nothing wrong with the doctor. Those are all things God provides. But we tend to think of prayer as kind of a frosting on the cake, or 'Make sure you pray.' That’s the way that we function: we’re sort of materialists by habit."

Materialist. Something else synonymous with us "practical" people. Oh God, may we learn to be faithful towards You with little as the foundation for trusting You with much.