Lent

For our Western Christian brothers and sisters, a blessed Ash Wednesday to you, and welcome to Lent. This morning I was up early, and had time to follow the link a reader posted in a combox yesterday, to an interview with a Russian Orthodox monk who works with Westerners seeking Orthodoxy. I found this part helpful:

If you don’t want to be a cork on the surface of the water you are to find some moments, a half-hour, an hour every day to isolate yourself from everyone and everything. Then, stand before the face of Jesus Christ as if you have only one moment before the Last Judgement. You are about to come before your Heavenly Judge and you only have one minute to repent of your whole previous life! “Oh, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!” You are to collect all your sins into one vessel of repentance and throw this vessel into the sea of God’s mercy. This is what St. Ignatius Brianchaninov teaches us.

If you are successful in this prayer of repentance, you will come to understand that your prayer is your life, it is not a technique… “the technique of the Jesus Prayer.” It is not something that you are to combine with your breath, or with the beating of your heart. No, it is your life. All technical advice is something functional. Your prayer is your life - your life is your prayer. And if you are constant in this secret standing before the face of God, you will see that your heart begins to change. You will find your prayer becoming deeper and more attentive, and one day you will understand what it is to pray with all your heart, from the depths of your soul. When little children cry for something, they do it with all their being, and this is like real spiritual life. God will teach you how to conceal your pious intentions and thoughts, how to keep it such a secret that no one ever guesses what you have in your heart. You will be living a life completely unknown and unnoticed by anyone, and you will begin to love solitude as the most satisfying way of speaking with your Creator. The moment you begin to pray from your heart, asking for everything that the Holy Spirit finds appropriate and necessary for you, you will be instructed and enlightened.

I tried that this morning in prayer -- imagining that I was at the last moment before Judgment, and had to confess my sins. It's amazing how that focuses the mind, and one's prayers. I'd also been thinking about Forgiveness Vespers, and how even though my family was too ill to make it this year, we still need to ask each other's forgiveness. Praying this morning with the Judgment in mind, it came straight to my attention how hard-hearted I've been toward my son Matthew lately. To say he's a strong-willed child is to say that McDonald's sells hamburgers. We've had some serious struggles lately with his attitude and behavior, and speaking for myself, a lot of frustration. But this morning, in prayer, I thought about how God the Father must see me, and how deeply frustrating my constant falling back into bad habits of the heart must be to Him -- and how I trust in His mercy and patient lovingkindness. I felt convicted over the way I've been treating Matthew. It's so difficult to tread the line between exercising firm and legitimate authority, and being merciful. Dad doesn't want to be a pushover, but he also doesn't want to be a stern authoritarian. I want to be what my father was to me: someone who rules with gentle and loving authority. But boy is it hard.

I thought: I need to ask his forgiveness. But then I thought: Matthew has been more in the wrong here, by a long shot. Will I undermine my parental authority by apologizing to him? Will he conclude that he was right all along? And then I thought: that's a risk I'll have to take; all I know is that I am not proud of the harshness of some of my words to my son, and I need to take responsibility for that, humble myself and tell him I'm sorry.

So, when Matthew woke up, I took him into my study, put him in my lap, and -- this was hard -- humbled myself to ask his forgiveness for the harsh words and actions I've had for him lately. I told him that we start Lent by asking each other's forgiveness, and that I needed his forgiveness. I told him he must never forget how much I love him, and that there is nothing on earth that could separate him from my love. He thanked me, then I told him that tonight when I got home, he would need to ask each member of the family for their forgiveness for the bad things he's done to them. Then we got on with our morning. I thought that was the end of that.

Later, as we were driving to school and we were saying our morning prayers, he began by saying, "Dear God, thank you for Lent." He's a seven year old kid, and isn't fasting or anything. I asked him why he was thankful for Lent. He said my telling him I was sorry and asking for forgiveness made him feel really good inside. And I thought: maybe I should do that more often.

Little things. You never know what kind of effect they'll have on people.