Sunday, April 19, 2009

cleanness of teeth

I'm guessing that somewhere someone is using Amos 4:6a as a life-verse for dentists:
And I also have given you cleanness of teeth in all your cities . . .
much like the exegetically suspect line reportedly seen in a Christmas card:
And they that dwell upon the earth shall rejoice . . . and shall make merry, and shall send gifts one to another . . . (Rev 11:10)
But Amos's point is not primarily about oral hygiene. The next line adds:
. . . and want of bread in all your places . . .
suggesting that this cleanness of teeth comes from not eating.

I was reminded of this Hebrew phrase (in the Greek translation it becomes "gnashing of teeth") in the context of fasting for Lent. When you give up meat, flossing loses much of its apparent usefulness. The main purpose, as far as I'm concerned, is to maintain the habit until the fast is over. But actually getting anything stuck in one's teeth becomes a rare occurrence. When you give up all food, as on Holy Friday, even brushing seems reduced to the purpose of covering up (however feebly) the stink of an empty digestive system.

Perhaps now brushing my teeth can become a reminder, however small, of God's blessing--that the food particles I must scrub away every morning and evening are a gift many would feel fortunate to have.

"persecuting giant" in the Holy Saturday canon?

The irmos of the first ode in the canon that was read for both Holy Saturday matins and the midnight office before Paschal matins:
The One, who of old hid the pursuing tyrant in the waves of the sea, the children of those he saved have hidden beneath the earth; but let us, like the young maidens, sing to the Lord; for he has been greatly glorified.
At least, that seems to be the kind of translation I've seen in print and online. But as we sang it in church, I believe "pursuing tyrant" was replaced with "persecuting giant." Now, "pursuing tyrant" makes me think of Pharaoh at the Red Sea crossing. But when I heard it in church, I couldn't begin to think who this "persecuting giant" was. The usual translation looks more faithful to the Greek edition that I found online, but I don't read Slavonic. Anyone know where the "persecuting giant" comes from?

Monday, April 13, 2009

spa review

Um . . . yeah. That's me--your neighborhood spa reviewer. This probably isn't going to be of much use to anyone who's actually looking for a spa in the area. Well, maybe some use. See for yourself.

So, last Friday was Julie's birthday. Every year, the balancing act is to find something that will surprise her, but that she'll also like. I'm not very good at figuring out what she'll like, and as a general rule I don't shop, so my opportunities to happen across something and think, "Hey, Julie would love this!" are limited. I usually have to resort to asking her for suggestions, which seriously diminishes the surprise factor.

Well, this year I wasn't moving very quickly (probably nothing new there), so before I got a chance to get out and look for anything I heard her say something to Ian about wanting "a day at the spa." I'm not made of money (as I like to remind my kids), so an actual day at the spa was out of the question. But I figured I could probably at least get her some kind of decent gift certificate. The only question was, where? Because I know spas. I'm in them all the time, so I know the best, and I know how to pick a good one. Right.

But I do like to shop local. So, I googled something like "Elkridge MD spa" and got a list of results arranged by proximity. I wasn't actually expecting to find anything all that close by, but to my surprise, one of the top hits was something called Oriental Spa, just down the road in a little strip mall on Rt. 1. Their Web site looked OK, and they do massages, which was the kind of thing that I figured would interest her. Worth a shot, right? The first opportunity I had, I went over to ask about a gift certificate. It happened to be an occasion when Ian was looking for somewhere to go, and my answers usually involve walking somewhere or going to church. Even better, Julie was on the tail end of a nap, so we might get there and back without any incriminating questions.

I realized when we got there why I couldn't remember much about it, even though I knew I'd walked through that strip mall a few times before, checking what businesses it contained. Aside from the fact that I normally wouldn't be the least bit interested in a spa, there's not much to say about the outside. The windows are opaque and the glass door covered with blinds. When we walked in, we were faced with another door--solid, with a button to ring a bell. The only other features in the small entryway were a mirror with some kind of picture on it (I wasn't paying much attention) and a sign proclaiming that the establishment was subject to random police inspection. Before I had time to think, "That doesn't sound promising," a female Asian voice yelled through the wall, "No babies!" (I assume she meant my almost six-year-old son) and asked what I wanted. I explained that I wanted to ask about gift certificates, and she said they don't do that. There didn't seem to be much left to do, so we walked back home.

It occurred to me as we were leaving that there are spas, and there are spas. Sometimes a massage is just a massage, and sometimes it's whatever $70 gets you in Elkridge. I settled on a day spa in Columbia. They seem to have a wider range of advertised services, they sell gift certificates, and you can see through their front windows--probably all good signs.

Julie was surprised (she probably would have been either way), and likes what she got, though she hasn't yet redeemed the certificate. If anyone knows of a good spa in Elkridge, I'd appreciate recommendations--never know when I might need to buy another gift. As for the Oriental Spa on Rt. 1, about all I can say is, bring cash, leave the kids at home, and don't expect very good customer service. Maybe it gets better once you're through that second door, but I don't expect I'll ever know.

Monday, March 23, 2009

does a song scream when you emasculate its lyrics?

Over a year ago, I blogged about coming to terms with my continuing life as a Marylander. At that point, things were starting to look like we'd be staying put for the foreseeable future, and I was looking for anything I could grab onto and identify with my place. Most notably, I came across the Maryland state song, "Maryland, My Maryland!" which seemed to me a surprising breath of fresh air in this state that (around here anyway) often forgets that it is more than a suburb of Washington, DC. How it got there I do not know, but clearly it needs to be preserved and sung, loudly and often.

Sadly, not everyone thinks so. Apparently, instead of teaching our fourth-graders about the complexities of life, history, and politics--and perhaps at the same time reminding them that they live in a (supposedly) sovereign state with its own trajectory, not just some ill-defined tract of a continent-wide empire--we seek to protect their tender ears by abandoning history and place. (Check their iPods to see what fourth-graders don't find offensive.) After four years of indoctrination in political correctness and the sainthood of Lincoln, what an interesting project, to let them read or hear the song and then go react to it by taking political action! Is there really any question how they will perceive it, without some kind of instruction on the context and issues involved?

I'm all for political involvement, and it's not a bad thing to teach kids about it. I would hope that at some point we move beyond teaching them the mechanics of how to make their opinions heard, to instilling in them the kind of critical thinking and values orientation that makes those opinions worth hearing. I'm sure none of this had anything to do with the opinions of the library media specialist who instigated the project, or those of the intern who salvaged the letters, or the sponsoring delegate herself. I'm guessing it had nothing to do either with the political attraction of a cause championed by kids. Perhaps all these well-meaning adults simply agreed with the compelling logic that the song "has too many old fashioned words."

But seriously, can anyone really love the proposed alternative? It has all the appearance of a downloaded state-song template, which probably contained a blank where they inserted the reference to the Chesapeake. Take that out, and it could apply (vaguely) in any patriot's heart just about anywhere. Gone are "the streets of Baltimore," "Carroll's sacred trust," "Howard's warlike thrust," and the other now-virtually-unknown state heroes. Gone are the Old Line, the neigbor-in-need Virginia, and the very historical context and conflict that runs throughout. If everything I need to know I learned in fourth grade, apparently the highlights are that poetry should be easy to read, bland, and unemotive. But don't take my word for it--read the awful specimen for yourself:
WE DEDICATE OUR SONG TO THEE,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND,
THE HOME OF LIGHT AND LIBERTY,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND,
WE LOVE THY STREAMS AND WOODED HILLS,
THY MOUNTAINS WITH THEIR GUSHING RILLS,
THY SCENES––OUR HEART WITH RAPTURE FILLS––
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.

IN TWAIN THE CHESAPEAKE DIVIDES
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND,
WHILE OCEANWARD ITS WATER GLIDES,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.
YET WE IN THOUGHT AND PURPOSE ONE,
PURSUE THE WORK SO WELL BEGUN,
AND MAY OUR STATE BE NE’ER OUTDONE,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.

PROUD SONS AND DAUGHTERS BOAST OF THEE,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.
THINE IS A PRECIOUS HISTORY,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.
BRAVE HEARTS HAVE HELD THY HONOR DEAR,
HAVE MET THE FOEMAN FAR AND NEAR,
BUT VICTORY HAS FURNISHED CHEER,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.

“SAIL ON, SAIL ON, O SHIP OF STATE!”
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.
MAY WE, THY CHILDREN, MAKE THEE GREAT,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.
MAY GRATITUDE OUR HEARTS POSSESS,
AND BOLDLY WE THY CLAIMS EXPRESS,
AND BOW IN LOVING THANKFULNESS,
MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND.
And if you're still awake, compare it with the power it seeks to supplant. Then write your state senators and assemblymen and tell them what I want you to think.

Friday, March 13, 2009

does God read labels?

Don't get me wrong--I think it's a worthy point that reading labels shouldn't be part of Orthodox fasting. Fr. Pat is technically correct when he says that the Ninevites and Jesus didn't read labels. I'm just not sure things are ever quite so simple.

For starters, these are great examples of fasting, and if we were to follow them literally, our fasting would look quite different. We probably wouldn't eat anything, which does take away a lot of the guesswork. On the other hand, we might struggle a bit with how to align the Ninevites' very public fast with Jesus's instructions to make sure that our fasting isn't obvious. Perhaps the different contexts help--the Ninevites were fasting as a community, so there was no point hiding it. When fasting as a matter of individual ascetic practice, it's better to keep it a secret. But that gets us to what I think is the real issue here--how do we fast in the here and now?

Orthodox may all fast as a community (that puts us somewhat more on the side of the Ninevites), but particularly here in the West we do so as a minority community. Our friends and neighbors often aren't fasting with us. In some cases, even family members aren't fasting together. Indeed, within a given parish, some may fast very strictly, while some do not fast at all. So the individual dimension is pretty hard to get around.

Now, for the specific issue of reading labels. If we start from the high standard of Jesus and the Ninevites, it's very easy--just don't eat anything, and everything's safe (or nothing is, but the outcome is the same). But generally speaking this kind of observance of Lent is discouraged as too extreme. And arguably, even if one is capable of fasting so strictly, one shouldn't. It seems to me that it would be very difficult to do so and avoid the sin of vainglory.

There are only a few days during Lent in which it is even considered that one should fast with this degree of strictness (Holy Friday and Clean Monday, for instance). The next step down is bread and water, which could also be done in a pretty straightforward manner, without reading labels. That is, it could be done if one first knew to stick to basic yeast breads, where dairy products are less likely. Of course, making the bread yourself is always a good way to know for sure.

Beyond that, we get into things like soups and salads and various other concoctions of vegetables and legumes. Again, if you prepare them yourself, it's generally quite simple to avoid meat and dairy. If you buy them pre-mixed in the store (to say nothing of prepared foods in restaurants, etc.), it can be surprising what's in there. And this is precisely the point. If you go back just a couple of generations, you get beyond our current obsession with pre-processed foods. Whatever minimal processing was done was typically done in the home. Things didn't come already mixed together. You might buy a chicken from the butcher already killed, plucked, and ready to cook--but it was just a chicken. Anything else that went in the pot was your business. These days, it seems the exception rather than the rule for people to prepare their own food truly from scratch. It's because we buy things that come with labels that we have to read labels.

Another issue here is the learning curve that converts face. Presumably generation upon generation of Orthodox housewives learned from their mothers and grandmothers what recipes to prepare during Lent. You didn't have to think about it--you just knew the right dishes. Not to mention, much of this tradition had a chance to develop where meat was truly a luxury. Cooking vegetarian was a way of life and an economic necessity, even aside from fasting. These days, many American converts have for the first time even to think about cooking and eating without meat or dairy. Eventually you do figure out what's safe and what's not. But getting to that point takes some study, at least part of which normally involves reading labels.

Of course, we could avoid a lot of this hassle if we just stuck with the basics--homemade breads, soups, and plain veggies. For many people, it would mean spending more time on food preparation during Lent than otherwise, which may be counterproductive; but if you do it with the right attitude, I suppose it could be a spiritual exercise to make things from scratch. If you have little kids, you might need to be a bit more creative. Given a choice between soup and starvation, I suppose at some point they'd pick the soup, but few parents have enough patience for that kind of stand-off. So, you start looking at more prepared foods, snack foods, desserts, etc. Would it be better just to say that they must be too young to fast? Or do they learn at least something about fasting by restricting themselves to Oreos for two months?

And then there's the complication of social interaction with non-Orthodox adults (some of whom may live in the same house with Orthodox). Do you refuse all invitations because it's Lent, or do you insist on picking a vegan restaurant, or do you call love an excuse for breaking the fast every time? I don't think there's a one-size-fits-all solution here, but at least some of the time you can just quietly pick things that don't break the letter of the fast (and if you're genuinely participating to avoid offense or out of love, you're probably not breaking the spirit either). If you've spent enough time reading labels, it actually cuts both ways. Sometimes it's easier not knowing what's in everything so you can plead ignorance, but sometimes you find pleasant surprises, where something you wouldn't have thought is OK really is. NOTE: I am not advocating reading labels while you're at a party or someone's house. My point is that it helps in such cases to have done some homework on the most common packaged foods.

I'm not saying that reading labels has to be for everyone. Personally, I'd rather not do it, because I know I can get too legalistic about such things. If you can get by with homemade bread and soup the whole time, God bless you! You're better for it. But in some situations, I think there's good cause. The trick is moving beyond label-reading. At some point you hopefully settle down into enough of a routine that you don't have to think about it anymore. You figure out what works for you, you know how to adjust when interacting with others, and you keep your mouth shut when someone does something differently. Reminders from the pulpit about not reading labels are good for pushing us in the right direction and instilling the right attitude; I just hope they understand the practical challenges involved.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

St. John Cassian on vainglory

St. John Cassian's seventh principal fault is one of the most frustrating, in that almost everything we might do to avoid it is equally susceptible to the same temptation:
For where the devil cannot create vainglory in a man by means of his well-fitting and neat dress, he tries to introduce it by means of a dirty, cheap, and uncared-for style. If he cannot drag a man down by honour, he overthrows him by humility. If he cannot make him puffed up by the grace of knowledge and eloquence, he pulls him down by the weight of silence. If a man fasts openly, he is attacked by the pride of vanity. If he conceals it for the sake of despising the glory of it, he is assailed by the same sin of pride. In order that he may not be defiled by the stains of vainglory he avoids making long prayers in the sight of the brethren; and yet because he offers them secretly and has no one who is conscious of it, he does not escape the pride of vanity.

What, then, is to be done? St. Cassian advises the following steps:
  1. Think "on that saying of David: 'The Lord hath scattered the bones of those who please men.' . . . consider that we shall not merely lose the fruits of those labours of ours which we have performed at the suggestion of vainglory, but that we shall also be guilty of a great sin, and as impious persons undergo eternal punishments, inasmuch as we have wronged God by doing for the favour of men what we ought to have done for His sake, and are convicted by Him who knows all secrets of having preferred men to God, and the praise of the world to the praise of the Lord."
  2. Do not allow yourself "to do anything at the suggestion of vanity, and for the sake of obtaining vainglory." Often this is easier said than done, and it requires that we constantly examine our motives. If we see that we are doing something for the wrong reason, this is probably a good occasion to cut off our own desires.
  3. When you have begun a thing well, "endeavour to maintain it with just the same care, for fear lest afterwards the malady of vainglory should creep in and make void all the fruits of our labours." Here's the real trick. Once you've started something, even if it was for the right motive to begin with, it's so easy to drift into doing it for the wrong reasons, or to welcome the praise that comes from others. It seems to take even more vigilance here than in starting something new, and I'm really not sure what the best strategy is to apply when we realize we've slipped. Stop doing whatever it is? Or is it enough to acknowledge and repent of the vainglory that has crept in?
  4. Avoid as leading to boasting "anything which is of very little use or value in the common life of the brethren." Again, the particular context of his remarks is a monastery, but the principle applies in other walks of life. If we're doing something that is of little use to anyone else, we're probably doing it just for the sense of accomplishment. This is a hard thing. We're used to climbing the mountain because it's there, or studying humanities for the pure intellectual challenge, or striving in athletics just to beat our own personal best. I think it is possible and appropriate to do things for sheer joy, but if that joy is not centered on God, we too easily drift into pride.
  5. Shun "whatever would render us remarkable amongst the others, and for which credit would be gained among men, as if we were the only people who could do it." This is another thing that's difficult even to pursue. If I can sing well, shouldn't I sing out? If I can fix things, shouldn't I look for ways to serve others with my ability? What about all the parables that teach us to make the best use of what we're given? Isn't it squandering God's gifts if we don't use our unique abilities? But the danger is very real, because if we're not truly using them for Christ, it's worthless--even worse than worthless.
It still leaves a lot of questions unanswered. But it's a start. Somehow, I think a major part of the battle (not necessarily half) is learning to examine even the most basic things that we do and the motives for which we do them. If we get no further than weeping over our sinful addiction to vainglory, we're still better off than before. And the silver lining (if there is one) is that this all-pervasive temptation can yield an element of humility that permeates everything we do. However much I may think I have my act together, I am never more than a blink away from sin. What cause does that leave me for pride?

The Elkridge Blessing (Part 2)


The pics are finally available from the Theophany service at Ss. Peter and Paul chapel and the blessing of Rockburn Branch. Dcn. Michael has been having issues with his site, but it's nice that at least they're up before the end of winter. I'm easier to spot in the outdoor shots with my bright green coat than the indoor.