This city, O Lord, will not do
“My soul yearns after God and I seek him in tears.
O Merciful Lord, thou seest my fall and my distress.
Humbly I entreat thy mercy. Pour upon my sinful
self the grace of thy Holy Spirit. Recollection of
thy grace draws my spirit to seek out thy compassion anew.
O Lord, grant me thy spirit of humility
that I lose not thy grace again, and weep for it
as Adam wept for paradise and for God.”
Today my heart is missing something since leaving St. Anthony’s monastery in Arizona. I have made it a habit of mine to take a trip to the desert around my birthday since 2019, excluding the year following, that has become a mini-tradition.
That first year I had to go. I hated New York and couldn’t admit it and had to see the sprawling sand dunes and cacti. Flights to Reno were too expensive, Vegas, too, but Phoenix… No one wants to go to Phoenix.
Perfect.
I got loaded on the plane and stumbled to the nearest Avis, drinking and doing shows—or at least pretending to do shows so I could drink. Truthfully, I had already lost my taste for stand-up. I just wanted to be out West.
The details of this trip are unimportant. I saw the Grand Canyon and stumbled back to my terminal home, hungover.
Two years later, all sobered up and homeless, I had a life-changing experience in the Ruby mountains near the border of Utah in Nevada. It is why I am on my path right now, and like any good life-changing experience the profundity was lost in the moment.
There are still no words.
This year I turned twenty-eight attending orthros and liturgy at one in the morning. It was a Sunday service, so it felt like the entire town of Florence was in attendance. All united to celebrate His resurrection.
The profundity was the moment.
My heart is strained waking up in my apartment, it feels like the third day of a break-up where it finally sets in that there is no going back. I am not sure what this trip is stirring, but I left so I could go back.
What I can say matter of fact is that, at the very least, I am meant to be Orthodox. My first night I could not find my sleep and wrote what follows:
It is impossible not to struggle and be a Christian. It is inevitable to the Christian life. The Christian struggle is a feature, not a bug.
In a previous post we were talking about Peter walking on water to which we must take another look at it, because for a week now I have been thinking about the miracle of Christ walking on water and then Peter, as well, so often overlooked where we examine his lack of faith rather than his walking on water.
But there is yet another miracle.
“And Peter answered and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.”
We are, in our fallen state, weak and sinking is a part of how we trust in Christ. We will sink. It’s a feature. As much faith and courage that we would like to have amongst our brethren during the storm we have a solid foundation in Christ if only we believed as much as we yearned to believe.
Jesus bids Peter saying, “Come.”
Lord, if it be Thy Will, be me to follow You. Bid me to come to You.
Peter walks on water through Christ.
Peter’s sinking may demonstrate a lack of faith, while also exemplifying our will. This individual will manifest itself as fear and distrust in God, regardless of our claim to be followers of His way, we will sink into the ensnaring nature of the world, as well as our passions, giving up trust for fear.
Fear is the opposite of faith. Fear is easier to cling to, because faith takes work–faith is itself a miraculous work. But fear is turning inward; it is relying on the self which is death, “and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.”
“Lord, save me.”
Peter repents and let’s go of his will. Peter shows us the Way by a miracle, nothing short of a miracle where he does not resign himself to death, even in his fear he calls on God, which is Christ Jesus, rather than backsliding into the stormy seas.
Repentance is a miracle, and it is rewarded: “immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him.”
These miracles performed by Peter through Christ and of our Lord are extensions of the fifth chapter in the Gospel According to Saint Luke where Christ calls the fishermen.
“‘Launch out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.’
But Simon answered and said to Him, ‘Master, we have toiled all night and caught nothing; nevertheless at Your word I will let down the net.’ And when they had done this, they caught a great number of fish, and their net was breaking. […] When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees saying, ‘Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.’”
“And Jesus said to Simon, ‘Do not be afraid. From now on you will catch men.’ So when they had brought their boats to land, they forsook all and followed Him.”
Christ meets us where we are to invite us deeper into His mystery.
The disciples forsake meaninglessness and transitory riches and follow Him. The disciples are called—as the rest of us are called—to lie down our lives of meaninglessness and useless wandering to catch men, which is to hoist men from the depths of the stormy seas through Him.
This is the Way.
Now, when we compare this to the story of the rich, young man who comes to Christ asking about eternal life:
“And when he was gone forth into the way, there came one running, and kneeled to him, and asked him, Good Master, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?
And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God.
Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honour thy father and mother.
And he answered and said unto him, Master, all these have I observed from my youth.
Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up the cross, and follow me.
And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions.”
Who among us could even stand on two feet and approach our Lord asking what else we need to do to enter eternal life? This young man, rich that he is, follows the commandments of God, but something is still missing. Who among us would cast down our nets and forsake everything to follow Him?
Right now.
I assume, like me, we’d produce excuses and go away grieving, unable to follow. Maybe what we have is in the way.
What is that we have that is most precious to us? What is it that we are unwilling to sacrifice?
We are all slaves to our possessions, or passions, and wide is the gate to perdition. It might be better for the rich man not to have asked at all, “Therefore, leaving the discussion of the elementary principles of Christ, let us go on to perfect, not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God.”
It’s a lot like waking up, sober, after seven years of hangovers. Not only do you recognize there is something more to life, but you also have to acknowledge this is only the first step in a difficult journey lest our path leads back to neon signs, “For Satan himself transforms himself into an angel of light.”
The young, rich man is far greater than me in that he follows the commandments of God, but even he could not let go of what chained him to the world. “No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”
“Most assuredly whoever commits sin is a slave of sin.”
As for me, I am a slave to God. I want to follow; I yearn to follow; it’s like that need to be out West. I need to be following Him, which is why I must struggle because otherwise I am a slave to the world. If we are not willing to give up everything to enter into His mysteries then what Christianity becomes is a doctrine of feelings: what feels good; it becomes something that makes us happy, self-righteous, or self-satisfied.
This is not the Way.
And by claiming Christianity while being of the world ensures the individual will never fully experience either.
Christ meets us where we are to transform us—showing us how to be united with God.
We need to be struggling. If we aren’t struggling then we’re not seeking Him, and certainly not sacrificing everything to do so. If we aren’t struggling to follow Him then we are dead, even when we have faith, “For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.”
There is solid foundation missing from the Christian life without sacrifice, service, and struggle. And so, too, does it feel that cornerstone is missing from my heart today, in mourning, and yearning for paradise just seventy miles outside Phoenix. Selah.
Si comprehendis, non est Deus
Witness, NM 