Leo

"The same gentleness can be seen in the story of [Prince Vladimir's] two sons, Boris and Gleb. On Vladimir's death in 1015, their elder brother Svyatopolk attempted to seize their principalities. Taking literally the commands of the Gospel, they offered no resistance, although they could easily have done so; and each in turn was murdered by Svyatopolk's emissaries. If any blood were to be shed, Boris and Gleb preferred that it should be their own. Although they were not martyrs for the faith, but victims in a political quarrel, they were both canonized, being given the special title of 'Passion Bearers': it was felt that by their innocent and voluntary suffering they had shared in the Passion of Christ. Russians have always laid great emphasis on the place of suffering in the Christian life...

"Boris and Gleb followed Christ in his sacrificial death; Theodosius followed Christ in his life of poverty and voluntary 'self-emptying' (kenosis)....The same ideal of kenotic humility is seen in others, for example, Bishop Luke of Vladimir (died 1185) who, in the words of the Vladimir Chronicle, 'bore upon himself the humiliation of Christ, not having a city here but seeking a future one.' It is an ideal found often in Russian folklore, and in writers such as Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky."

-- Timothy Ware, The Orthodox Church


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That's where my bookmark sits today.

I like the idea of kenosis, the emptying of self. I picture a barrel of pitch turned sideways, the black gunk gushing out, disappearing before it touches the ground. It is righted and in flows the purest water, washing away the remaining pitch and filling the barrel to brimming.

Also, apropos to the last post: reading The Orthodox Church and Brothers K just synced up.

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A few years ago on my birthday, I remember my friend Zach gave me a collection of Tolstoy's short stories. I started reading some of them that night but gave up within a few days. I felt like I didn't "get" Tolstoy the same way I felt I "got" Dostoyevsky.

(As an aside, I never know how to spell Fyodor's surname--Y's and I's seem interchangeable.)

In another collection of short stories, there's a Tolstoy three-page yarn about a monk standing on the deck of a ship. He has a vision of an angel (or maybe it's the Virgin) floating across the sea towards him, and then the story--abruptly, I thought at the time--ends. What? That's it? Something must be going on; Leo wouldn't write a story for no reason, right? I reread the story, scouring it for hints, and concluded that either the translator missed the point or Tolstoy was just too obtuse for me.

Whereas with Dostoyevsky, I feel like we're in on the same joke, and maybe I've heard the joke before and this is just the Russian version. Like the author notices the same stuff I would notice in those situations.

But after reading a little more about Orthodoxy--and specifically, about Russian Orthodoxy--my mind keeps turning to Tolstoy. I really should give it another shot.

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As another aside, anyone interested at all in writing, Russia or love should see The Last Station. You just should.

Also: Kerry Condon is hot.

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It's funny. In the week after I attended Pascha services, I felt disappointed in the Orthodox Church, like it had let me down. I had expected too much of this ancient church, a human and earthly institution. Being from an evangelical and pentecostal background, I was fascinated by the beauty but didn't feel what I had hoped to feel. My hairs didn't tingle for three hours straight; I yawned when the person beside me yawned; no divine light shattered the roof.

But you keep going, don't you, when something that interests you disappoints you. So I've been downloading podcasts, continuing my reading, and just yesterday, I cracked open The Orthodox Study Bible, whose appendix essays alone have been worth $20. Once again, my desire to learn is renewed. I'm ready to go to Liturgy again.

This helped a lot, too. Anyone who is interested in Orthodoxy, Dr. Jackson (Hillsdale), or a brilliant rereading of Adam and Eve, should listen to this. It's Jackson's analysis of the true meaning of the Genesis 1-3, referred to me by Nick T.

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Probably by accident, and perhaps significantly so, the bookmark I've been using for The Orthodox Church is the retail tag from a pair of pants I recently bought at Wal-Mart. The brand? Faded Glory.

And in The Brothers Karamazov, the bookmark is a ticket stub from a play I saw two months ago, called The Fall from Heaven.


Signs and wonders.