When it comes to Orthodox evangelism, I wonder if we’re missing the point.
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My Chicago god-daughter Carrie sent me ‘Wounded by Love’ by Elder Porphyrios, and it’s been an incredible journey. He’s a fairly recent luminary in the Church — he joined a Mt. Athos monastery in 1918 at the age of 12 and passed away in 1991. I have enjoyed his particular voice, coming through autobiographical details and collected essays, and perhaps never as much as in one essay that carries the heading “In the spiritual life, engage in your daily contest simply, easily and without force.”

Elder Porphyrios gives advice that is different than any I’ve heard, and I imagine that it’s not for everyone. But it has been very helpful for me to reflect on. … simply, easily and without force …  Here’s what he says:

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Just finished reading The Art of Racing in the Rain yesterday morning, just in time for Clementine to disprove the author’s contention that dogs are clear-thinking, non-judgmental and sympathetic.

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Walking Clementine in the June heat is a bit of a chore, so I waited until she was really fussing at me before I put on my shoes and we headed out. I’m on the last chapters of Mimi’s newest summer read, “Great Expectations,” and was really much more interested in what would happen to Pip and Mr. Provis and Miss Havisham than I was in snapping a leash on a hounddog so we could both step into 90-degree weather that has magically managed to go to 115% humidity and feels like a sauna with the lights left on. But Clementine has to get busy sniffing all the same places she sniffed yesterday, so there’s no point in trying to stall.

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Apologies for non-activity. As sometimes happens, life has been throwing us some curve balls these days. And they’d be darned interesting to blog about, but ironically, they don’t leave me enough time and energy left over to do so.

But here’s something brief that’s probably better than whatever I would drone on about anyway. This week I sat in with a catechism class and the subject of confession came up. (Hm. Now that I think about it, that subject often comes up when I appear unexpectedly. I wonder why that is.) (adjusting ‘Chief of Sinners’ neon sign as I speak)

It was a good discussion, and I was still thinking about the humility we’re called to when I read this in “Daily Lives” the next day:

Place your sins before you and look through them to God.
– St. Anthony the Great

There is so much there to contemplate. In those eleven words, St. Anthony encapsulates both the harrowing aspect of the sacrament of confession and the indescribable hope that gives it all meaning. If you don’t get the first part right, you’re just wimping out. But if you don’t realize what we’re hoping for, then you’ll only grow colder and colder — more self-righteous, more juridical. Without love, you’ll never be able to approach God. I’ve made both mistakes, and still do. By the grace of God, I aspire to live in both those realities, because that friction kindles a flame in a person that never goes out.

Well, I’m waxing eloquent and I said I wouldn’t. More to say after I’ve batted a few curve balls.

A friend sent me one of those serial emails that get bounced around, and though the story intrigued me, I dismissed it as being an urban legend. But a quick trip to Snopes confirmed that it really happened: Yep, on July 20, 1969, Buzz Aldrin took a moment before setting foot on the moon to take communion.

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I didn’t know that romantic comedies were abbreviated RomComs until a recent trip to the Netflix comment area. And given that both of these — “Date Night” and “Letters to Juliet” — have been playing for weeks now, you might have to wait until Netflix stocks them if you want a look. Both are worth the wait, and that seemed worth talking about when I consider myself such a tough audience.
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It says a lot about a TV series that I would celebrate Greg’s birthday by taking us to a nearby hotel and staging an island party just so we could watch the series finale of ‘Lost’ in a suitably festive atmosphere. And Greg was completely okay with sharing natal-day-honors with a TV show, as I knew he would be.

It also says a lot about a show that its particular lexicon and paradigm enter your own vocabulary somewhat effortlessly. So when we were packing up to go, Greg gave me the last sip of his Diet 7-Up when I had my hands full of suitcases and then said solemnly, “Now you’re like me.” And we both cracked up.

Now, if you didn’t get that reference and haven’t been watching the show, you’re probably thinking everyone should shut up already and get a life. Which is always a suitable response from a non-fan to a fan, because fans always sound a little whacked. But as a Lost fan, can I make a pitch? If you’ve been in the habit of eschewing all things shown on big screens and little screens because they’re such utter dreck, I totally agree and could cite the long list of blog posts on the subject to back me up.

But I would also say that you might want to make an exception in this case, because I think this is some of the most inventive and creative storytelling I’ve ever seen. And although the meta-messages and The Point of the show (which is what everyone is still filling screens and screens parsing out) was not overtly religious, as most people understand it, I thought it was actually on its way to being downright Orthodox.

So if you’re at ALL inclined to take a peek and see for yourself, I’d say rent the first DVD of the first season and just watch the first show, and if at all possible, do it without thinking of all the over-the-top hype that it has gotten. Just watch for yourself and see what you think. I did that in ‘07 and Greg and I were hooked. (If you’re the type that cannot function without spoilers, you should read the first link I’ve got below, but I think it may actually make things more difficult, rather than easier.)

So that’s my pitch to the non-fans. Now, if you are a fan … how ABOUT that finale?

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“It was 20 years ago today, Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play …”

Or something like that.

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Do you ever rerun conversations over and over and come up with much better things you wish you had said? Or, worse, rerun conversations that never happened — setting up imaginary confrontations with troubling people you know or people you know are out there somewhere? I do, and I’d hate to have to admit to myself how many hours I’ve lost to this weird game.When I’m tired or when I’m over-excited for some reason, I just can’t seem to make myself stop going over and over things that never happened.

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