Для тебя, Ирена.

 

Psalm 103:1-5

Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits— who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

Cathedral

 

Hard to believe this was built by human hands.

But

an even more magnificent cathedral is the human heart.

Yom Kippur

 

Forgive 

and be forgiven.

Today is Yom Kippur.

If you observe it, may it be meaningful.

If you do not, may it be meaningful.

Creation

 

For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. 

Who hopes for what they already have? 

But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. 

Romans 8:20-25

Just Like You

 

The grand museum was eight days across from end to end. It went on forever and climbed into the future. Where had it all come from? With great pride honorable old women swept and dusted and watched for error. "Don't touch that," they would say to the overzealous, and, "Look," to the complacent.

She and Basil rested at the bluest painting. He, a man from 500 years in the past, a barefoot religious fool in chains. She, modern and over-uneducated, taking in the simplicity and none of the detail. He laughed. He missed some of the details himself. The world had changed so much.

He spoke in the ancient tongue. She listened in her own language, 

but understood him plainly.

The painting was a perfect square, blue within blue. Dark, deep, with hardly any deviation. It seemed to be a block of blue, save a shade here or there of something close to black but not quite. Inside it shone a mysterious light. 

Where had it come from?

"It's like you," Basil said to the modern woman.

She saw herself in unkind ways. Imperfect, damaged, lacking, a step behind. That's not how Basil saw her. Reaching to God, that is what his heart told him. 

He wanted to say, "Look," but waited for the right time.

The museum was filled with artifacts, statues and carriages and gold things. So much gold. The walls glistened. The floor glistened. The people, not so much. Basil laughed. This world was full of people who could not see themselves as they really were. They looked at art but did not see it. They rushed to and fro, but went nowhere. They had breath for many more years than most of his generation, but whittled away their time on inconsequence and complained that they were too busy to spend eight days wandering through a museum of beautiful things. Eight days of beautiful things, anyone? He cherished each moment. Basil praised God, the Creator of all things. They praised nothing. "Look," he wanted to say, but waited for the right time.

No Other Words to Say

 

 

Maybe something wonderful is about to happen.

Up

They sat in the restaurant counting little cakes and watching themselves in the reflection of the spoons. 

"This is oppulent," gushed Basil. 

"Do you mean opulent?" She asked.

"YES," came his enthusiastic reply.

It was too much. The delicacies, the clanging dishes of the servers, the gold ceiling, chandeliers, people.

"Are these people gold?" She asked, aghast.

"They only look that way because we are dreaming," Basil explained.

She was certain they weren't dreaming. In fact, she was writing this down, word by word and bird by bird.

"Birds?" He exclaimed.

She tried to distract him. 

"A lot has changed since you were here before," she said. "There is freedom now."

He looked around at the pale, round people hunched over their food and strange rectangles, staring into nothing, eating with great noise but otherwise silent. He glanced out the window for a long moment at their modes of transportation, giant squares and strange shapes rushing in all directions, their bleak, by his standards, buildings, and counted the number of them alone on their journey. 

He replied with a sigh, "They are not free. The whole world is chained to itself and nothing else."

They sat in the restaurant counting cakes. Basil also counted the people. 

"What are we doing here?" He finally asked. "We should be outside speaking the simple words to everyone we meet."

"The simple words?" She wondered aloud.

"Look up," he responded, incredulous that she didn't know.

"Can we just tell the people in here to look up?"

"No," he leaned in, "They will look up and see a gold ceiling and think all is well. They will be distracted by what holds them in. It is very deceptive."

"How do you know this?" She asked him.

"I am a fool," he explained.

Basil, Fool for Christ: 

https://storiesofsimcha.blogspot.com/2018/12/st-basils-cathedral.html

Can You Hear?

 

The cobblestones were cold beneath her bare feet.

"Why did we have to take our shoes off?" She asked her faithful friend.

He looked her square in the eye and blabbered, "We are fools, remember!"

Not a question, a command to remember.

"Ok, we are fools," she shrugged.

"This way," he motioned excitedly, dragging his chains with vigor and delight. 

She rolled her eyes in the most American way and off they went into Red Square.

He stopped at a group of aghast pedestrians and shouted a prayer in their general direction. 

"Repent," he bellowed, then whispered the warning, "It is almost time!"

Again, with the eye roll. She was called to pray quietly, though she was barefoot. That was something.

The startled crowd did not repent, not openly, though she noticed one bow his head and say something quietly, like her. That was something.

Off they went, Basil screaming at the top of his lungs that Jesus was coming, and her silently think-screaming, "The Lord bless you and keep you."

The Holy Fools ran through all the world calling the sane and sensible to lay down their arms and look up. Rejoicing, crying, screaming like wildmen-- that was Basil, and whispering, in hushed tones, "The Lord bless you. The Lord keep you," that was her.

In all the world the masses heard him.

And the Lord heard her. He blessed them and kept them.

Even to the Gentiles?

Acts 11:18-26

When they heard this, they had no further objections and praised God, saying, 

“So then, even to Gentiles 

God has granted 

repentance that leads to life.”

Now those who had been scattered by the persecution that broke out when Stephen was killed traveled as far as Phoenicia, Cyprus and Antioch, 

spreading the word only among Jews. 

Some of them, however, men from Cyprus and Cyrene, went to Antioch and began to speak to Greeks also, telling them the good news about the Lord Jesus. The Lord’s hand was with them, and a great number of people believed and turned to the Lord.

News of this reached the church in Jerusalem, and they sent Barnabas to Antioch. When he arrived and saw what the grace of God had done, he was glad and encouraged them all to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts. He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and faith, and a great number of people were brought to the Lord.

Then Barnabas went to Tarsus to look for Saul, and when he found him, he brought him to Antioch. So for a whole year Barnabas and Saul met with the church and taught great numbers of people. The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch.

John 3:8

The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. John 3:8