You Have Something to Share

I've been feeling really inspired lately.  I've been seeing a lot of beautiful things- I've been witnessing a lot of beautiful people- I've been hearing a lot of beautiful ideas and stories. Sometimes, after becoming so inspired, I want to share.  But I hold back because of fear- what if no one cares about what I have to say?  What if I sound stupid?  What if the ideas I think are so great are really meaningless and worthless?

"A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father." -Matthew 5:14-16

But this is the call, right?  What good is it if I spend all this time collecting inspiration and wisdom if I don't share it with those around me? I want to be a source of inspiration to others. I want to encourage and build up the people in my life; even those who may not be so close to me. I want people to know and experience God in a way they may not have before. 

What holds me back, always, is this feeling that unless I am perfect, I am not equipped to share. Unless I have perfectly understood a lesson, I should not try to teach others.  Unless I wholly possess all the good traits I long for, I should not encourage others to possess them either. 

These are lies of the darkness. Human beings will always be flawed. We will never reach a state of perfection in this life. All we can do is strive, and what's even better is to strive together. Sharing what you have is perhaps one of the most beautiful acts of humility. Jesus delights in our communion with each other- in sharing ALL we have with one another.

"A poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents. Calling his disciples to himself, he said to them, "Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood." -Mark 12:42-44

We don't have to wait until our cup is full.  We take whatever we have, whatever light shines within us, whatever good lessons and compassion we possess, and we give freely and openly. Don't be afraid. Don't worry about what other people will say. You have unique, individual, unrepeatable gifts that the world needs to receive. 

So share a smile, share a story, share a kind word or lesson with someone else. Share with one person or share with many, many people, but don't be afraid to go out boldly and share what you have- even if you don't feel like it's perfect.

Why I Love Lent

This evening, Great Lent will begin in the Melkite church.  I'm so excited; Lent has always been one of my favorite times of the year.  I love the focus, the determination, the deprivation- does that sound weird?  I do- I particularly love being a Catholic at this time of year because I love the unity of our people coming together to challenge ourselves- to redirect our attention, and to enter into suffering as one.

Before I met Cyril, I thought there was only one way to "do Lent."  I would think about what I would give up, and as many people, the things I chose to give up were always sweets, social media, TV, etc.  Fridays were the only day I wouldn't eat meat, and I would put forth my best effort to devote more time to prayer and getting closer to God.

Year after year I did this, and every Easter rolled around and it would be very nice.  And I hadn't changed at all.  And I was only able to think about the ways I had failed, and Easter was only different in that I sang "Jesus Christ is Risen Today" and went home and ate a basket of candy- which wasn't all that great because being honest, I had eaten chocolate the week before anyway.

The first time I encountered the Eastern Church was during Holy Week.  Cyril and I were still just dating and I had never even heard of a "Melkite." Were Melkites even Catholic?  Weren't they part of the Orthodox who hate the Pope?  I didn't know anything.  All I knew was the Church was unlike anything I had ever seen.  No kneelers, no pews, there were icons everywhere, even on the ceiling.  No statues, no visible tabernacle, the altar hidden behind a wall of brightly painted doors and hanging lamps dipped in gold.  It was a beautiful church to be sure, but I had no idea what I was walking into.

I'll be honest and say I didn't really get it, or even like it at first.  The music was strange, there were no instruments, the service was extraordinarily long, clocking in at around 2 hours.  We never knelt, and only sat down for the reading and the homily.  During the Gospel, everyone walked straight up to the front of the church and stood right before the priest who was chanting, not saying, the Gospel.  When I received communion, I was shocked to find it was thick like an actual piece of bread and not a thin wafer.  All of these things were so perplexing to me.

But night after night, we went back- Holy Wednesday, Holy Thursday, bringing us to Good Friday.  That's when I was really struck.  The entire church was pitch black- it felt just like a tomb.  The entire service was solemn, like the grandest funeral you could ever have attended.  We sang verse after verse together the most hauntingly beautiful tones.  This music was full of mourning, full of pain, but also full of intense beauty and truth.  After the service ended, my whole body hurt.  It was physically taxing to stand for so long- but at the same time, I felt so satisfied.  For the first time, I felt as if I had given my entire being to worship.  I was exhausted, and had just been immersed in such sadness.  I felt, for the first time, what it must have felt like for the Apostles and the Virgin Mary on that Good Friday evening.

I had no idea what was to come on Holy Saturday evening.  Cyril and I went to get coffees around 8:30pm because the service didn't start until 10:30pm and he said we would be at the church until around 1am.  Say what now?  These Melkites were getting crazier and crazier.  When we entered the church, I started to get kind of excited.  There was, for lack of a better term, an energy emanating as soon as you opened the front door.  I felt like a little kid who was awaiting some big surprise- even though I didn't know what was about to happen.  The women were all in the kitchen preparing what I was told would be a tremendous feast, the kids were playing tag in the church hall, the men and clergy were in the dark church flipping through pages and quietly humming the songs that were to come.

Alright.  10:00pm rolls around.  The entire church is lights out- we've all got unlit candles in our hands.  All of a sudden, the priest comes out of the doors wearing the most fabulously ornate and colorful robes, carrying a large fiery candle, singing in a booming, haunting voice: "Come O Faithful, and take light, from the Light that never fades, and glorify Christ, who has arisen from the dead."  Over and over he sings this, the entire congregation joins in with their voices, and everyone goes up and lights their candles from the fire he holds.  Gorgeous.  We all process out the church, and we're standing in the freezing cold, because it's D.C., and you're never totally out of the cold woods even in April.  Anyway, entire congregation is outside, and the doors are locked behind us.  There's one guy inside, and the priest, signifying Christ, bangs on the door 3 times.  The doors swing open and we all walk in- the church that was surrounded in darkness before is now radiating in light- the golden lamps are swinging, laurel leaves cover the ground, and we sing in loudest voices: "Christ is Risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and on those in the tombs, bestowing life."  I was instantly filled with this joy, this overwhelming joy that flowed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.  Every fibre of my being was aware of the Presence of Christ- so close I could touch Him, feel Him in every bone of my body, every beat of my heart.  I had never experienced an Easter, or as the Melkites say, a Pascha like this.  It was life changing.  The Paschal Sermon of St. John Chrysostom is read, and what a sermon it is:

"If any man be devout and love God, let him enjoy this fair and radiant triumphal feast. If any man be a wise servant, let him rejoicing enter into the joy of his Lord. If any have labored long in fasting, let him now receive his recompense. If any have wrought from the first hour, let him today receive his just reward. If any have come at the third hour, let him with thankfulness keep the feast. If any have arrived at the sixth hour, let him have no misgivings; because he shall in nowise be deprived thereof. If any have delayed until the ninth hour, let him draw near, fearing nothing. If any have tarried even until the eleventh hour, let him, also, be not alarmed at his tardiness; for the Lord, who is jealous of his honor, will accept the last even as the first; he gives rest unto him who comes at the eleventh hour, even as unto him who has wrought from the first hour.

Tears streamed down my face.  It was all so beautiful- so true.  This feast, this day, was for everyone who was there, whether they had been preparing since day 1 or as late as the hour before the service started.  I was struck with the overwhelming goodness and love and light of our Lord- I was victorious with Him, I was alive again, I was filled with the joy and the transformation and the miracle of the Resurrection as if I was standing there with Mary Magdalene 2000 years before.

And afterwards- the feast. Oh what a feast. Tables and tables of meat, cheese, desserts, wine, beer, bread.  It was like I had actually entered into the heavenly banquet.

8 years later, I'm still as excited for that night as I was the first time I experienced it.  And it changes the entire way I enter into and journey through Lent.  In the Melkite rite, the recommended fast is: no meat, no eggs, no dairy, no olive oil, no alcohol, and no fish (except for shellfish) for the entirety of Great Lent (yes, that includes Sundays as well).  I love it.  I love the strictness, I love the challenge, I love the total depravation, because it's so tangible, it's so bodily and fleshy, it's experiencing the darkness so you can take in total light on that night of Pascha.  It's like the P90X of spiritual training. I need this fast.  I need this period of time to focus on regaining control of myself.

So this Lent, I rejoice.  I rejoice because Lent and Pascha were the time when I fell in love with the Melkite Church.  All its treasures, all its wisdom, all its mystery and beauty.  It transformed the way I thought about my faith, and it opened up a wealth of beauty I hadn't experienced before.  I wish you all the very greatest and most fruitful Lent +.

"O Death, where is your sting? O Hell, where is your victory? Christ is risen, and you are overthrown. Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen. Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen, and life reigns. Christ is risen, and not one dead remains in the grave. For Christ, being risen from the dead, is become the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. To Him be glory and dominion unto ages of ages. Amen."