Dear Lutheran,
I had plans for much more scholarly letters this week, but given the events of this past weekend, I would be remiss if I didn't address them.
Alright, so maybe I wouldn't be remiss. But I would somehow disappoint myself, and given that I'm a self-important millennial, I don't do well with disappointing myself. You understand, I'm sure. #millennials #amiright?
I don't feel good about that joke. Not really. And we're back in.
This past weekend was Pascha, or Orthodox Easter. And while it was a time for joy, celebration, and the yearly circulation of this meme in all nerdy Orthodox circles, something very disturbing happened. Within an approximate 24-hour span four Orthodox churches caught fire. Now because of the aforementioned meme and our tendency to enjoy all things old and pyrotechnic like candles and incense, most of the world wasn't terribly surprised. But they should be. You see, given our predisposition towards fire in our services, we're pretty good at it. And sure, there are small fires now and then. Every year I worry about one of the younger parishioners catching my hair on fire. Everyone has a story about an altar boy fainting into his candle due to exhaustion or locked knees, or being hypnotized by the flame (it happens people). Last year on Good Friday I watched Metropolitan Joseph catch a rug on fire when the coals from the incense didn't transfer properly. It's a story for the ages. But all of these incidents end the very same way. People notice and spring into action before the flames get too large. Burning hair is quickly beat out. The flames extinguish before the child who fainted burns his face or anyone else. The fire on the rug was stomped out by a subdeacon and the only casualty was a slightly melted shoe. We're good at this. Since our traditions have stayed roughly the same since the beginning, I can say that we've been doing this for literally thousands of years and not sound like an obnoxious millennial who is literally dying over the news. #icant.
I don't feel good about that joke either. But it was a logical tie-in, so it must stay.
The problem here is that we should be concerned. These churches didn't just catch fire. They went up in flames. The Serbian church in New York was fully gutted by the time the fire was extinguished. The Greek church in Melbourne suffered huge damages and lost many priceless icons. The Macedonian church in Sydney is now rubble. And let's not forget the 19th century Russian monastery in Valaam. And while nobody knows if it was purposeful or coincidental, the situation is still quite serious. Which is why I'm asking for your prayers.
On Pascha, we celebrate Agape Vespers, where the resurrection gospel is read in as many different languages as possible so that the story can be heard by as many people as possible. It's a beautiful service. Because of all of the culture attached to the Orthodox church, we often pray in many different languages. This week in particular I've called that to mind as I say over and over:
Lord have mercy, Kyrie Eleison, Господи Помилуй (Gospodi pomilui), Señor ten piedad, Bwana utuhurumie, Doamne miluieşte, يا ربّ ارحم (Yā Rabbu rḥam), Lord have mercy.
I had plans for much more scholarly letters this week, but given the events of this past weekend, I would be remiss if I didn't address them.
Alright, so maybe I wouldn't be remiss. But I would somehow disappoint myself, and given that I'm a self-important millennial, I don't do well with disappointing myself. You understand, I'm sure. #millennials #amiright?
I don't feel good about that joke. Not really. And we're back in.
This past weekend was Pascha, or Orthodox Easter. And while it was a time for joy, celebration, and the yearly circulation of this meme in all nerdy Orthodox circles, something very disturbing happened. Within an approximate 24-hour span four Orthodox churches caught fire. Now because of the aforementioned meme and our tendency to enjoy all things old and pyrotechnic like candles and incense, most of the world wasn't terribly surprised. But they should be. You see, given our predisposition towards fire in our services, we're pretty good at it. And sure, there are small fires now and then. Every year I worry about one of the younger parishioners catching my hair on fire. Everyone has a story about an altar boy fainting into his candle due to exhaustion or locked knees, or being hypnotized by the flame (it happens people). Last year on Good Friday I watched Metropolitan Joseph catch a rug on fire when the coals from the incense didn't transfer properly. It's a story for the ages. But all of these incidents end the very same way. People notice and spring into action before the flames get too large. Burning hair is quickly beat out. The flames extinguish before the child who fainted burns his face or anyone else. The fire on the rug was stomped out by a subdeacon and the only casualty was a slightly melted shoe. We're good at this. Since our traditions have stayed roughly the same since the beginning, I can say that we've been doing this for literally thousands of years and not sound like an obnoxious millennial who is literally dying over the news. #icant.
I don't feel good about that joke either. But it was a logical tie-in, so it must stay.
The problem here is that we should be concerned. These churches didn't just catch fire. They went up in flames. The Serbian church in New York was fully gutted by the time the fire was extinguished. The Greek church in Melbourne suffered huge damages and lost many priceless icons. The Macedonian church in Sydney is now rubble. And let's not forget the 19th century Russian monastery in Valaam. And while nobody knows if it was purposeful or coincidental, the situation is still quite serious. Which is why I'm asking for your prayers.
On Pascha, we celebrate Agape Vespers, where the resurrection gospel is read in as many different languages as possible so that the story can be heard by as many people as possible. It's a beautiful service. Because of all of the culture attached to the Orthodox church, we often pray in many different languages. This week in particular I've called that to mind as I say over and over:
Lord have mercy, Kyrie Eleison, Господи Помилуй (Gospodi pomilui), Señor ten piedad, Bwana utuhurumie, Doamne miluieşte, يا ربّ ارحم (Yā Rabbu rḥam), Lord have mercy.
And while we do not agree on everything, I ask for your prayers, because I am not enough. Pray for peace in the church. Pray for a resolution to the problem, pray for all of the faithful who lost a place of worship. For while the Church is not just a building, this is a devastating loss nonetheless. Pray that we continue to have faith.
To bring this #fullcircle--oh come on, I had to--I ask for your prayers and the prayers of the Saints during this time. As St. Paul says, "We should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead, who delivered us from so great a death, and who does deliver us; in whom we trust that He will still deliver us, you also helping together in prayer for us, that thanks may be given by many persons on our behalf for the gift granted to us through many" (2 Corinthians 1:9-11). It never hurts to have a few more asking for the Lord's mercy.
With thanks,
Jacque
Let my prayer arise in thy sight as incense, and let the lifting up of my hands be an evening sacrifice.
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