Created a new layout for the site. Unfortunately, all past comments were deleted. If anyone would like to comment on a comment made yesterday, I'd be appreciative. Oh, the mystery!

Let me know what you think of the new layout. I know it's nothing spectacular, but I think it's slightly easier on the eyes.

FAITH

Lately I've been questioning the motivation behind my beliefs. I know for certain this questioning will not lead to a complete overhaul of what I know and understand to be true but, God willing, it will lead to a deeper knowledge and understanding of who I am, and what my motivations are- particularly in the "religious" sense.
The other night trying to fall asleep I found myself restless....kept awake by the idea that I'm a cheater, that I'm insincere, that my attempt at a spiritual life is being kept alive by nothing more than self-motivation and ego.
I began to ask myself - "Why do I make attempts to worship God in the Orthodox Church?"
Is it the need to feel superior to the "other half" who live without the Church. Is it a feeling of belonging which drives me? Is it a psychological need, possibly stemming from my personal experiences, which has led me to attempt feebly to approach God?Is it a desire for some kind of mystical experience which will deliver me from the monotony of day to day life? Is it the fear of death and final judgement? Do I only call on God in times of need- reducing God to a wish-giver of sorts? Is my religion a crutch?
If these things are true... then my Christianity is fake- it is a thin and cheap facade only existing to satisfy myself, not God. If this is true, then perhaps the critics of "organized religion" are correct, at least about me and my ego driven self-satisfying motivations.
My former priest used to say frequently: "We must become less, so that He may become more." Is my Christianity an emptying of the self, or is it pleasing to the self in its comforting concepts, its ritual, its talk of Church life which foster feelings of self-importance.

God preserve me from the superficial, so that I may worship in Truth and in self emptying Love.

Ah, and now something for April. A bit of T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade
10 And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in winter.

The new Bonnie Prince Billy album is out. It's not really new, as it's re-recorded and spruced up versions of some of Will Oldham's songs from his early days...back when he had a bit more indie rock and a little less country in his style. Will Oldham has been called by some the best American songwriter of the past 10 years... I say they're right. I've been listening to his music for the past 7 years and still it hasn't gotten old for me.
Anyway, I recommend this interview for those interested in finding out something more about him. Also, check out my Will Oldham link to the right.

Tomorrow is Lazarus Saturday. Here is Sonia in Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment
reading The Raising of Lazarus to Raskolnikov- one of my favorite selections from all of Dostoevsky's writings.

Sonia still hesitated. Her heart was throbbing. She hardly dared to read to him. He looked almost with exasperation at the "unhappy lunatic."

"What for? You don't believe? . . ." she whispered softly and as it were breathlessly.

"Read! I want you to," he persisted. "You used to read to Lizaveta."

Sonia opened the book and found the place. Her hands were shaking, her voice failed her. Twice she tried to begin and could not bring out the first syllable.

"Now a certain man was sick named Lazarus of Bethany . . ." she forced herself at last to read, but at the third word her voice broke like an overstrained string. There was a catch in her breath.

Raskolnikov saw in part why Sonia could not bring herself to read to him and the more he saw this, the more roughly and irritably he insisted on her doing so. He understood only too well how painful it was for her to betray and unveil all that was her /own/. He understood that these feelings really were her /secret treasure/, which she had kept perhaps for years, perhaps from childhood, while she lived with an unhappy father and a distracted stepmother crazed by grief, in the midst of starving children and unseemly abuse and reproaches. But at the same time he knew now and knew for certain that, although it filled her with dread and suffering, yet she had a tormenting desire to read and to read to /him/ that he might hear it, and to read /now/ whatever might come of it! . . . He read this in her eyes, he could see it in her intense emotion. She mastered herself, controlled the spasm in her throat and went on reading the eleventh chapter of St. John. She went on to the nineteenth verse:

"And many of the Jews came to Martha and Mary to comfort them concerning their brother.

"Then Martha as soon as she heard that Jesus was coming went and met Him: but Mary sat still in the house.

"Then said Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.

"But I know that even now whatsoever Thou wilt ask of God, God will give it Thee. . . ."

Then she stopped again with a shamefaced feeling that her voice would quiver and break again.

"Jesus said unto her, thy brother shall rise again.

"Martha saith unto Him, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection, at the last day.

"Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in Me though he were dead, yet shall he live.

"And whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die. Believest thou this?

"She saith unto Him,"

(And drawing a painful breath, Sonia read distinctly and forcibly as though she were making a public confession of faith.)

"Yea, Lord: I believe that Thou art the Christ, the Son of God Which should come into the world."

She stopped and looked up quickly at him, but controlling herself went on reading. Raskolnikov sat without moving, his elbows on the table and his eyes turned away. She read to the thirty-second verse.

"Then when Mary was come where Jesus was and saw Him, she fell down at His feet, saying unto Him, Lord if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.

"When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, He groaned in the spirit and was troubled,

"And said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto Him, Lord, come and see.

"Jesus wept.

"Then said the Jews, behold how He loved him!

"And some of them said, could not this Man which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died?"

Raskolnikov turned and looked at her with emotion. Yes, he had known it! She was trembling in a real physical fever. He had expected it. She was getting near the story of the greatest miracle and a feeling of immense triumph came over her. Her voice rang out like a bell; triumph and joy gave it power. The lines danced before her eyes, but she knew what she was reading by heart. At the last verse "Could not this Man which opened the eyes of the blind . . ." dropping her voice she passionately reproduced the doubt, the reproach and censure of the blind disbelieving Jews, who in another moment would fall at His feet as though struck by thunder, sobbing and believing. . . . "And /he, he/--too, is blinded and unbelieving, he, too, will hear, he, too, will believe, yes, yes! At once, now," was what she was dreaming, and she was quivering with happy anticipation.

"Jesus therefore again groaning in Himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it.

"Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto Him, Lord by this time he stinketh: for he hath been dead four days."

She laid emphasis on the word /four/.

"Jesus saith unto her, Said I not unto thee that if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?

"Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard Me.

"And I knew that Thou hearest Me always; but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that Thou hast sent Me.

"And when He thus had spoken, He cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth.

"And he that was dead came forth."

(She read loudly, cold and trembling with ecstasy, as though she were seeing it before her eyes.)

"Bound hand and foot with graveclothes; and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him and let him go.

"Then many of the Jews which came to Mary and had seen the things which Jesus did believed on Him."

She could read no more, closed the book and got up from her chair quickly.