Tuesday, November 19, 2019

Offsite Post: ‘Family Visit’


Into the violent wagon
We all are loaded
And go a-trundling
With radio blaring
At speed immoderate;

Passed the cell phone towers
With their spikes a-bristling,
Torture device
For an age humane;

 . . .


--

Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!

Anathema to the Union!

Friday, November 15, 2019

Offsite Post: ‘Overextending Political Loyalties’


One of the two commandments the Lord Jesus Christ gave to His disciples to follow was to love our neighbor as ourselves.  However, in the modern United States of America, we no longer have neighbors.  We either have ideological allies; or we have ideological opponents, who keep us from enjoying the right to say or do this or the right to be equal to that.  The object of our affection is not men and women made in the image of God but cold, dead, national legalisms, the sharp claws and fangs of the all-devouring god of the Constitution.  It is no wonder that the love of many has waxed cold.

Our loyalties have gone all out of order.  We need to refocus.  We need to contract our sight a bit, from the interstate to the local, from the general to the particular, from the rights of people to people themselves. 

For help in this endeavor, let us turn to colonial Virginia, the cradle of Southern culture, and to her basic social institutions.  Prof David H. Fischer describes them for us.  One was the vestry of the parish church; the other, the county court:

Both were dominated by self-perpetuating oligarchies of country gentlemen—the parish through its vestry, the county through its court.

About the county court in particular, Prof Fischer writes,

Its principal officers were the county justices, the county sheriff and the county surveyor, who were nominally appointed from above rather than elected from below.  In practice they were controlled by the county gentry, who regarded these offices as a species of property which they passed on to one another.  . . .

On court days a large part of the county came together in a great gathering which captured both the spirit and substance of Virginia politics.  Outside the courthouse, the county standard flew proudly from its flagstaff, and the royal arms of England were emblazoned above the door.  The courthouse in Middlesex County actually had two doors which symbolized the structure power in that society—a narrow door at one end of the building for gentry, and a broad double door at the other for ordinary folk.  Inside, on a raised platform at one end of the chamber sat the gentlemen-justices, their hats upon their heads, and booted and spurred . . . .  To one side sat the jury, “grave and substantial freeholders” who were mostly chosen from the yeomanry of the county.  Before them stood a mixed audience who listened raptly to the proceedings.  Outside on the dusty road, and peering in through the windows was a motley crowd of hawkers, horse traders, traveling merchants, servants, slaves, women and children—the teeming political underclass of Virginia.

--Albion’s Seed: Four British Folkways in America, Oxford UP, 1989, pgs. 406-7

Here is a community; here are people with a healthy, normal interest in other people as people, not as political objects to be manipulated, not in the political abracadabra of amendments and clauses.  They experience the wider communities of State and Mother Land precisely through the county courthouse, through the ‘county standard [flying] proudly from its flagstaff’.  Today, we have inverted the order:  We experience local life as a little appendage of the national life emanating from Washington City, groveling our thanks that we can be part of the Great Experiment of deluded Puritan messianism and corrupt corporate cronyism.

But the union is too vast and abstract for us to properly love.  We must know and love the local, what we can see, touch, hear, taste, and smell.  I cannot experience a snowstorm in the Dakotas or the steady rain in the evergreens around Spokane.  But I can touch the snowbells growing in my yard in Louisiana, and watch and listen to the creek flowing behind the house.

The county presents a limit for our affections.  The average size of a county in the 50 States is about 1,200 square miles.  This would make a square of about 35 miles long and wide, with a border length of about 140 miles in all.  If a man walked an average pace (3.5 mi/hr) around the border 8 hours a day with no breaks, it would take him no less than 5 days to complete the circuit.

But within that boundary lies an astounding variety of life.  . . .


--

Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!

Anathema to the Union!

Thursday, November 14, 2019

Renewing the Mind


We have mentioned before how in the West after the Great Schism of 1054 the nous was forgotten and man was reduced to a mind-body duality; and that because of this change in manlore (anthropology) man’s relationship to God became one of external knowledge based on various forms of scholastic study (philosophy with the Roman Catholics, analyzing the Bible alone with the Protestants).  Mr Abraham Hamilton, III, gave a good illustration of this on Wednesday, 13 Nov., with his analysis of Romans 12:1-2 at the start of The Hamilton Corner:


[1] I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.
[2] And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

The ‘mind’ Mr Hamilton spoke of is not the ‘mind’ St Paul is speaking of.  Mr Hamilton is thinking of the rational understanding, the discursive reason.  This ‘mind’ is denoted by the Greek word ‘dianoia’.  But the Greek word for ‘mind’ St Paul is using here in Romans 12:2 is ‘nous’, which is the faculty of the soul that allows us to have a union with God that transcends the logical, reasoning mind (and thus to acquire a higher knowledge of God than that which the dianoia can provide).

With this difference in mind, what, then, does it mean to ‘renew the nous’ rather than to ‘renew the dianoia’?  The priest-monk, and now Abbot of the St Herman Monastery in Platina, Cal., Father Damascene tells us in an address he gave in 2005:

The theme of this Conference—"Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind"—is a rather daunting theme to talk about, because it is so vast and all-encompassing. It touches on the whole purpose of our lives as Orthodox Christians. Our Lord Jesus Christ said: I have chosen you out of the world (John 15:19). We have been called out of this world in order to become citizens of another world: the Kingdom of God. That Kingdom begins now, in this life, continues after we leave this world, and will reach its consummation at the Second Coming of our Savior. In order to dwell in that Kingdom, to be its citizens, we must be transformed.

Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind (Rom. 12:2). These words from the Epistle of the Holy Apostle Paul to the Romans help to introduce a Divinely inspired teaching on spiritual trans­formation. In this talk, I will speak first about the theological meaning of transformation in the Orthodox Church. Then I will provide a commentary from the Holy Fathers concerning St. Paul's teaching on transformation. Next, I will offer some practical suggestions concerning the way to transformation, with an emphasis on watchfulness and prayer. Finally, I will speak of authentic love as the primary mark of genuine spiritual transformation.

As I said, the theme of transformation points to the purpose of our life. That purpose is unending union with God—deification, theosis. But deification is not a static condition: it is a never-ending growth, a process, an ascent toward God. We do not reach the end in this life, nor even in the life to come. St. Symeon the New Theologian, who attained what might be called the highest possible degree of union with God in this life, said: "Over the ages the progress will be endless, for a cessation of this growing toward the end without ending would be nothing but a grasping at the ungraspable." [1]

Our union with God is a continual transformation into the likeness of God, which is the likeness of Christ.

I, like many of you, have come to the Orthodox Church from a Protestant background. Every once in a while, a Protestant will ask me the question: "Are you saved?" It is difficult to answer this question in a way that a Protestant would understand, because the Protestant conception of salvation is so different from our Orthodox understanding. Recently I read Clark Carlton's book The Life. He is a former Protestant himself, and well understands the Protestant mind. He makes the insightful point that, in Protestantism, salvation means simply changing God's attitude toward you, so that you can go to heaven. According to this understanding, it literally only takes a few minutes to be "saved." [2]

In Orthodoxy, on the other hand, salvation is viewed in maximal rather than minimal terms. In his book Orthodox Spiritual Life according to St. Silouan the Athonite, Harry Boosalis of St. Tikhon's Seminary writes: "For the Orthodox Church, salvation is more than the pardon of sins and transgressions. It is more than being justified or acquitted for offenses committed against God. According to Orthodox teaching, salvation certainly includes forgiveness and justification, but is by no means limited to them. For the Fathers of the Church, salvation is the acquisition of the Grace of the Holy Spirit. To be saved is to be sanctified and to participate in the life of God—indeed to become partakers of the Divine Nature (2 Peter 1:4)." [3]

In Orthodoxy, salvation means not simply changing God's attitude, but changing ourselves and being changed by God. Salvation ultimately means deification; and deification, as we have seen, entails transformation. It is being united with God ever more fully through His Grace, His Uncreated Energy, in which He is fully present. As we participate ever more fully in God's life through His Grace, we become ever more deified, ever more in the likeness of Christ. Then, at the time of our departure from this life, we can dwell forever with Christ in His Kingdom because we "look like Him" spiritually, because we are shining with the Grace of God.

Many years ago, in 1982, I took a trip to the Holy Land. I was still a catechumen then, and was planning to be baptized back in California only a month or so after I returned from the trip. I remember one day when I was in Jerusalem, in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, standing on Golgotha, at the place where Christ was crucified. I was crossing myself. An elderly lady who was standing next to me asked me where I was from. I believe she was Greek. When I told her I was from America, she said, "You're from America, and you're Orthodox?" I said I wasn't, but that I was soon to be, God willing. Then she looked at me piercingly, and emphatically said, "When you are Orthodox, you can become holy."

That was an affirmation for me concerning the life's path I was about to embark on. I heard those words right there on Calvary, where Christ died for my salvation so that I could become holy, so that I could have the Grace of God within me at Baptism, so that I could continue to acquire the Grace of the Holy Spirit, so that I could become deified.

With his Incarnation, death and Resurrection, Christ redeemed human nature, opening the path to deification and even to the redemption of the body that will occur at the General Resurrection. That is the objective dimension of our salvation. But while our nature has already been saved, we have to personally appropriate that salvation. That is the subjective dimension of our salvation. Christ has already come to us; it is up to us to come to Him and be united with Him.

When we read Orthodox teachings on transformation, holiness, and deification—and even more when we read of people who have reached a high degree of holiness—all of it can seem far beyond us. In one sense, it should seem beyond us; that is, we should feel we have a long way to go, because we do. However, we should not feel that holiness and deification are ultimately out of our reach. Each one of us is called to it. When I think back on what that lady told me on Golgotha twenty-three years ago, I think about what I have not done to become holy, to be transformed into the likeness of Christ, to be "saved" in the maximal Orthodox sense of the word. I am sure that each one of us here can think of what we have not done, how we could have done more in all the time we have been Orthodox Christians. But that should not lead us to despair. Rather, it should lead us to repentance, to a desire to rededicate our lives to Christ, to the thought of what we can do to be saved, to be deified, from this moment forward.

 . . .

4. The Renewal of the Mind

Be transformed by the renewal of your mind. What does St. Paul mean by renewing the mind? According to St. John Chrysostom, he means repentance. We are told to be transformed, but, as we look at ourselves, we see that we sin every day. This could lead us to despair, to the thought, "I'm not transformed, and I never will be." That is why St. Paul adds the words "by the renewal of your mind": so that we will not despair. St. John Chrysostom writes: "Since it is likely that, being men, they would sin every day, St. Paul consoles his hearers by saying 'renew yourselves' from day to day. This is what we do with houses: we keep constantly repairing them as they wear old. You should do the same thing to yourself. Have you sinned today? Have you made your soul old? Do not despair, do not despond, but renew your soul by repentance, and tears, and Confession, and by doing good things. And never cease doing this." [11]

From the theological point of view, it is important to point out that the "renewal of the mind" that St. Paul speaks about is actually the "renewal of the nous." In the original Greek, the word for mind here is nous. In Orthodox theology, the nous is the highest faculty or power of the human soul. It is the faculty that knows God directly; it is the seat of our personhood, which experiences the Person of God in a communion of love. St. Gregory Palamas and other Holy Fathers say that it most precisely defines what is the "image of God" in us. [12]

At the Fall of man, the nous was darkened and became sick. The Uncreated Energy, Light or Grace of God became foreign to it. As I mentioned earlier, through Christ's work of redemption man receives the Grace of God within him once again in Holy Baptism. But every time a baptized Christian commits sin, he soils his baptismal garment, as it were. He dampens the Light of Grace inside of him; he once again darkens or sickens his nous. Instead of turning to and uniting with God, his nous turns aside to the passions, to self-love and love of sensual pleasure. By turning to the passions, the nous repels the Grace of God; it prevents the Christian from continuing on the path to deification in Christ.

The sickness of the nous leads to spiritual death. The darkness of the nous leads to spiritual darkness, in which we cannot see things clearly and soberly. We cannot see things as God sees them; instead, we see them through the filter of our passions. Thus we grope about blindly in life, hurting ourselves and hurting others, either wittingly or unwittingly. We stray far from our purpose in life, which is union with God. Although we might think we have lots of important things to do, we wander aimlessly through life; and all our busyness only serves to distract us from our diseased spiritual state, from the fact that we are not fulfilling our life's true purpose. Our nous is sick because we have separated ourselves from God, because we have sought after our passions rather than Him.

5. Watchfulness and Prayer

The healing of our sick nous begins with what we have just been discussing: the sacrifice of our "old man," the cutting off of the passions, repentance. In speaking of the healing of the nous, the Holy Fathers place much emphasis on the practice of watchfulness. We must at all times watch over our thoughts so as to reject—to cut off—sinful and impassioned thoughts. When a sinful thought comes to us and we cut if off at once, it is not a sin. But when we entertain a sinful thought, when we cherish it and develop it because we are attracted to it, then it becomes sin, then it separates us from God. When we entertain impassioned thoughts, our nous becomes darkened, deprived of the Light of Divine Grace. These thoughts lead to impassioned feelings, and the feelings fuel more thoughts. Soon we are caught in a passion, and the passion becomes habitual. That is why we must cut off the sickness where it starts, in our thoughts.

To cut off sinful thoughts, we first must recognize such thoughts as our enemy. We must realize that they can separate us from God. For example, when we have a resentful or judgmental thought against our neighbor, we must recognize that entertaining this thought will put us at enmity with God. So we refuse to entertain it. We just let it go. And if it comes back again an hour later, or even (as often happens) a few minutes later, we again cut if off.

In the Orthodox Church, we have a special means of cutting off thoughts: the Jesus Prayer. The effects of this Prayer are twofold. In the first place the Prayer helps us to cut off and turn away from impassioned thoughts. And in the second place the Prayer helps us to turn and keep turning to Christ our Savior at all times.

When we practice watchfulness with the help of the Jesus Prayer, we make our soul open to receive the Grace of the Holy Spirit, which transforms us and deifies us. We are no longer repelling Grace, but attracting it. We are calling upon Christ to have mercy on our darkened souls, to dwell within us more fully, to fill us with His unending Life, with the Light of the Holy Spirit Whom He has sent from the Father (cf. John 15:26). Thus our darkened nous is illumined by the Light of the Uncreated Grace of God. "Only the Holy Spirit can purify the nous," writes St. Diadochos of Photiki in The Philokalia. "In every way, therefore, and especially through peace of soul, we must make ourselves a dwelling-place for the Holy Spirit. Then we shall have the lamp of spiritual knowledge burning always within us." [13]

In addition to saying the Jesus Prayer, we should cultivate the habit of calling out to God in our own words. This should be done throughout the day. The Fathers counsel us against trying to make long, eloquent speeches to God; rather, we should pray simply, from the heart. We can call out to Him either verbally or mentally, depending on the situation. Of course, we should call out to Him when temptations assail us, but we should by no means wait for such moments before we speak to Him. Archimandrite Sophrony, the disciple of St. Silouan of Mount Athos, had the practice of praying to God each time he was about to see and speak to someone. He prayed that God would bless the encounter that was about to take place, so that God's Grace would be upon it. If we were to follow this very simple practice, just think how our daily encounters with people would be transformed, and how our lives would be different.

Also, together with praying throughout the day as we go about our daily tasks, it is important to devote certain times of the day to prayer, that is, to a rule of prayer. The content of this prayer rule varies with each person, and sometimes it changes. It is good to have the blessing of one's priest or spiritual father on one's prayer rule. The rule may consist of prayers from the Orthodox Prayer Book, or the Jesus Prayer, or a combination thereof, together with prayer in one's own words and the reading of the daily Gospel and Epistle verses. St. Theophan the Recluse notes that, while we are reading prayers from a prayer book or saying the Jesus Prayer, there may come times when we are moved to just stand silently before God with heartfelt yearning. He recommends that we stop reading or reciting prayers at such times, and then resume a little later. [14] "It is better to perform a small number of prayers properly than to hurry through a large number of prayers," he writes. "After you have recited each prayer, make prostrations, as many as you like, accompanied by a prayer for any necessity you feel, or by a usual short prayer.' You may limit the entire prayer rule just to prostrations with short prayers and prayer in your own words. Stand and make prostrations, saying, 'Lord have mercy,' or some other prayer, expressing your need or giving praise and thanks to God. You should establish either a number of prayers, or a length of time for prayer, so that you do not become lazy.' You should pray a little longer on your own especially at the end of your prayers, asking forgiveness for unintentional straying of the mind, and placing yourself in God's hands for the entire day." [15]

Setting aside time for daily prayer is an indispensable part of spiritual life. In families there should be daily common prayer before the family icon corner. Even if only a little time is set aside for this, it can make a huge difference in the life of a family. But in order for it to make a difference, it should be regular, not sporadic.

The key to prayer rules is constancy. If we skip our prayer rule, our Scripture readings and our spiritual readings for one day, we will find that already the world will start to invade us: the world of the passions, the world of distractions. If we skip our prayers for two days, we will be invaded even more, and so on. As time goes on, we will have less of the mind of Christ and more of the mind of the world. We will find ourselves more and more "conformed to this world." [16]

In order to grow in the Orthodox spiritual life and bear fruit, we need to put down roots, as in Christ's parable of the sower. And in order to put down roots, we need to have constancy, consistency, in our daily prayer and spiritual reading. In this practice, too, we can "renew ourselves from day to day," as St. John Chrysostom puts it.

The daily, continual practice of watchfulness and prayer, of course, cannot take the place of the Sacraments of the Church. But this practice can prepare us for receiving the Sacraments, and can deepen our experience of them. St. Symeon the New Theologian says that receiving Holy Communion is in itself a kind of deification—because we are receiving the deified Body and Blood of our Savior. Our practice of watchfulness and prayer, together with our repentance, can help us to partake of that deification more fully.

 . . .


--

Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!

Anathema to the Union!

Remembrances for November


Dear friends, if you have time, please pray for these members of the Southern family on the day they reposed.

14th – Booker T. Washington, a prominent leader in the postbellum South

22nd – Mary Boykin Chesnut, a valuable author and historian of the South

23rd – Louisa McCord and Marion Montgomery, a couple of very versatile and talented writers

Many thanks.

--

Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!

Anathema to the Union!

Tuesday, November 12, 2019

‘California 2029’

I.

It was my birthday.  I was 19 years old then.  Many say I am still young, but I feel very old.  My mother died shortly after my birth.  A prenatal exam revealed that I had a gene that would cause high cholesterol.  The doctors recommended a simple gene-editing procedure to remove it.  My mother and father agreed.  But the results were unexpected.  A third arm began to grow, underneath my right one.  It did not form fully, yet there it was.

The doctors who worked at the military base in Los Angeles where my father was stationed and where my mother and father lived were fascinated by this turn of events.  They would not allow an abortion.

Complications during delivery caused by this arm led to my mother’s death.  From then on, any significant illness or injury or growth spurt was another opportunity for the doctors to conduct more tests on me.  My father, as a good soldier, did not resist orders, but I could tell it hurt him when they took me away for them.

II.

Religious freedom is strictly enforced throughout California, for, as the rulers here well know, a multitude of religious opinions is the great enemy of Truth - and that is something they greatly feared the masses getting hold of.  Counterfeits and fakes are everywhere.  By the Grace of God, I had always been drawn to more traditional churches, but it is still a miracle I heard about the hermit Father Ignatius at all.  But his fame was spreading.

One Sunday morning as the robot priest of my Episcopalian parish was preparing for the service, I overheard two members sitting in front of me mention him and the remarkable things about him.  I fixed it in my heart to visit him.  Maybe he could bring healing to my body and save from the medical torturers.  When my father asked what I wanted for my birthday, I had an answer for him:  ‘I want to take a trip to the edge of the city to view the horizon.’

III.

A high-speed rail line runs in a ring around Los Angeles.  At one of the stops is an observation deck for looking out at what is left of the green space around the city.  In order to cut down on carbon emissions, most car use inside or outside the cities here in the new nation of the Democratic People’s Republic of Gaia-California is severely restricted.  However, for the right price, some are still willing to drive people to a destination in vehicles that have had their GPS trackers illegally disabled.  They usually gather at this observation point. I found one, haggled, paid, and off we went.

IV.

In order to save California from ‘climate change’, President Harris implemented a plan to blanket the skies with sulfur dioxide and other metallic crystals to dim the sun and cool the air.  The effects on the creation were catastrophic.  The sky is now a nauseating hue like vomit itself; many of the trees and other plants have withered from metallic poisoning.  The scientific experts assure us that genetically modified plants will make everything okay.  But many are skeptical.

V.

After an hour’s drive or so, we arrived at a former nature reserve that looked to be more filled with death than with life.  I got out and began to follow the path that led up into the foothills of the mountains.  After another hour, I was standing before an extraordinary scene:  A garden of the most brilliant, verdant green I had ever seen met my eyes, and in the midst of it was an old man, whose long grey hair and beard resembled the Spanish moss I had heard about that grew around the bayous and rivers in the recently revived Confederacy to the southeast.  A soft, warm Light radiated from him, and around him were a number of wild beasts and birds resting tamely.  The Light faded as I approached him.

‘God bless you, Andrew.’ 

He knew my name though I had not said a word to him.  As he made the sign of the Cross over me, a current of Grace rushed through me, and I felt more still and content than I could remember.

He invited me into his cave, and I followed him there.  In one corner, a little lamp of almond oil burned before an icon of the Lord Jesus Christ which this monk had brought with him from the St Herman Monastery in Platina.

‘What would you have me do for you, Andrew my son?’

‘I want to be whole, Father.’

‘That is a good goal.  But before we set out to attain it, tell me about your life.’

I confessed to God in his presence my whole life.  I hid nothing, not even the darkest corners of my heart.  He listened to my confession and offered many words of spiritual instruction and healing to me.  At the end, he placed his stole over my head as I knelt before his Gospel book and Cross, and he read the prayers of absolution over me.  A burden fell off my shoulders, and tears of joy streamed down from my eyes as he made the sign of the Holy Cross upon my head.

‘Baptize me into the Orthodox Church, Father.’

‘Not by my hand, dear child.’

Suddenly, a shower of water and oil fell down upon me where I stood, and a Voice said, ‘In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.’  As this happened, I felt a spark where my shriveled arm met my side.  It hardened, and fell to the ground; smooth flesh covered the place where it had been.  We buried it outside the cave.

VI.

Darkness was creeping into the cave as the sun set.  Fr Ignatius placed before me some almonds and figs from his trees. 

‘Eat, Andrew.  You must keep up your strength.  Trials await you still.’

He stood before the icon and prayed quietly while I ate.  As I finished, we found we were no longer alone.  Military police from Los Angeles had come in search of me.  My long absence worried my father, and the surveillance cameras and threats to my driver helped these to find me.

The holy monk turned to me:  ‘Remember me before God, Andrew.’

The Grace that radiated from him pierced the hearts of the policemen like great shafts of arrows.  But they loved the darkness rather than the Light, so these wounds of Love drove them to anger instead of repentance.  And at the urging of the demons they fell upon Fr Ignatius with great savagery, beating him with their weapons and then shooting him.  But as soon as they had done so, they went mad and attacked one another, tearing and biting each the other, until they fell down a steep cliff and died.

I buried God’s New Martyr Ignatius, and asked for his prayers as I left, knowing what awaited.

VII.

I drove the military police transport vehicle back to Los Angeles.  My father was amazed at what he beheld; so, too, were the scientists.  One of their prized specimens was even more interesting to them now.  The testing was as brutal as ever.  But when they saw in my DNA that the results of their pre-birth CRISPR experiment had been changed, that my body was now whole, and heard my explanation of how it all happened, they became frantic in their efforts to expel me from Los Angeles lest true faith should challenge the controlled religious chaos the oligarchs used to keep the masses captive to their whims.

VIII.

I was exiled over the objections of my father.  Perhaps it was their intention that I die in the wilderness where they left me, but by Saint Ignatius’s prayers I survived and made my way back to his cave.  There I took up the life he had lived, suffering assaults from the demons and from my fallen passions.  Whenever I needed direction in some particular of the monastic life, the All-Holy Trinity would send St Ignatius to teach me.

But I could not attain to pure prayer of the heart as long as my father remained in Los Angeles, so I gave myself over to constant prayer for his salvation.  Weeks passed into months, but one morning he did appear, near to death, at the cave.  He was full of sorrow over his life, and wanted to ask my forgiveness before he died.  He said an old man robed in blinding Light had appeared to him and told him how to find me.  I assured him all had been forgiven long ago, and held him in my arms comforting and consoling him all the evening.

Water from the holy well that had sprung up at some point in the past by St Ignatius’s prayer healed my father.  He lived with me in asceticism for several years before passing to the next life. 

And now I live here alone, seeking deeper union with all the hosts of Heaven and with Christ Himself, helping the pilgrims who come to St Ignatius’s mountain in search of nourishment for their souls like I once did.  Perhaps we will share in St Ignatius’s martyrdom one day as well.  In the meanwhile we wait to see which way the world will go:  towards further rebellion and the final anguished trial of the Church at the hands of Antichrist or towards repentance and a respite from evil, however brief it may be, brought about by the unbending, righteous will of a newly anointed Orthodox Tsar in Russia.

--

Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!

Anathema to the Union!