Will you .....

I was at a food service conference recently and the key note speaker reminded me of something that was instrumental in my spiritual life.

Many years ago, as a member of a small neighbourhood Anglican church, the priest often spoke of his mentor, a professor and member of the Russian Orthodox church, with great love and affection. As we heard Fr.'s stories of Professor S I believe that we came to love and revere him almost as much.

The stories about the Professor's church were most exciting to me. Having never seen (nor really heard of) an iconostasis before made the idea of a gold embossed wall of icons lit only with candles seem like the stuff of a fairy tale. How much I wanted to go to that church.

Then, during one Lent the priest took his warden to a study evening which was being offered by Professor S at that very church. How much I'd wished that I was going. And then, the warden returned with stories of her own about the candles reflecting off the gold of the icons and about the amazing Professor which made my desire even greater.

And so, that Good Friday evening (that would be the Anglican Good Friday. not the Orthodox one) I went to a service at the church.

When I walked in I was struck dumb. The church had been, in its previous life, an Anglican church (ironic eh?) but was now a Russian Orthodox cathedral (albeit with stained glass windows!!). The iconostatis was magnificent, there were only a few pews in the centre and along the sides of the walls. (primarily for the elderly I learned later). The smell of incense filled the air and people walked about.

The service began .... entirely in Russian ..... and I was enthralled. This service taught me that you don't need to understand the words to understand what the words mean. Throughout the service I knelt when everyone else did and I crossed myself (likely 'backwards' in that venue) when everyone else did but I was obviously out of my element. Painfully out of my element. Sticking out like a sore thumb out of my element.

After quite some time I noticed a man off to the side with a few things on a small table. He began to move through the congregation offering the items on the tray to each person. All I could remember was the admonition that had always been included in the stories from my priest ... "whatever you do while in an Orthodox church DO NOT RECEIVE". And so, as the fellow got closer and closer to me I was terrified. Surely, I found myself feverishly praying he'll realize that I "don't belong" and won't put me in a position of having to either (HORRORS) receive what I presumed to be the Host or of bolting out the door thereby eliminating any further possibility for me to ever return and see those glorious icons again.

He got closer & closer and I got more & more nervous. And then, there he was, standing directly in front of me (remember that there are few pews so almost everyone was simply standing around). I looked at him and he looked at me. Well, actually that's not exactly correct because what it felt like was that his soul looked into my soul.

And he offered the tray and said to me .... said to my soul .... "will you share our prayers". It wasn't a question. It was a gift.

At that moment I knew I belonged. I knew that I was welcome and that I was loved. This stranger took away all my fears and hesitation. I accepted what he offered, remained for the balance of the service and then floated all the way home.

The next day I was telling my priest and the warden and as I described the event and the stranger who asked me to 'share our prayers' they both realized that I was describing the illustrious Professor. I'd had no idea that the man in the church was Professor S. But his grace shown through in that moment when our eyes met. It was incredible.

Always be Joyful. And never stop praying.

I was reading a business article today about the need to remain focused in this struggling economy, and my thoughts (obviously I didn't remain focused on the article!) turned to prayer.

I'm a very visual person and have discovered that one of the most effective prayer techniques for me is with iconography. I have dozens of icons throughout my house and draw much comfort from simply being in their presence. My eyes often land on St. John the Baptist while I'm watching TV and I don't find that odd at all. I don't believe that prayer means stopping what you're doing (say for an hour on Sunday mornings) to pray. I believe that prayer can be - should be - with you always. I don't always manage it but I believe it.

Brother Lawrence, in his book The Practice of the Presence of God, wrote of being in prayer - in communion with God - no matter what he was doing. Washing dishes, gardening, walking, sweeping .... no matter what, Brother Lawrence was in prayer. The Dalai Lama has said that he is in prayful meditation when he listens to the daily radio news. Proof that our minds are phenomenal machines.

In the very early days of discovering my own spirituality the first Biblical passage that captured my attention was St. Paul's words to the church in Thessonalica. 'Always be joyful, and never stop praying' were his instructions to the Thessalonians. I printed out that passage, added some flower clipart and posted it over my desk at work. Where it stayed for years. I have it still. Funny though, until today, I always thought of it as one single command but during the writing of this piece I see it as two separate and unique instructions that feed each other. Always be joyful. Never stop praying. And to actually BE joyful at all times one must never stop praying. Separate but combined. A cool realization.

When I first began to use icons in my prayer life I spent most of my evenings alone in my church. Even though it was an Anglican church there were icons on every wall. I used to take a stool, pile up a stack of books and place a candle at just the right height in front of the Saint I felt most drawn to at the time. Thomas was often a favorite for me back then as I recall. Another icon, one of Christ Pantocrator which had been written specifically for the church, was in the Lady Altar where I spent many hours in quiet contemplation; on the floor, in a pew, often (thankfully no one ever discovered this) actually curled up right on the altar so that I could be as close as possible. I would begin to pray - in ways that I thought were "right" - but often found my mind wandering. Initially, when that happened, I'd give my head a shake and try to 'get back to prayer'. I added in a somewhat altered 'Jesus prayer' in an effort to keep focused but still found that my thoughts wandered off. While one part of my mind was reciting 'Lord Jesus Christ, most Holy Son of Mary, have mercy on me a sinner' (my own version of the prayer) another part was struggling with concerns or issues. I kept thinking I was doing something wrong, that I wasn't praying 'correctly'. [Talk about needing to give your head a shake!] But then I read somewhere - I think it might have been in a book about St. Therese de Lisieux - that I really needed to pay attention to those wandering thoughts because they are God's way of bringing forward things that matter. And, wandering thoughts about what to make for dinner aside, I think there is a great deal of truth to that; I've remembered it to this day and I allow myself to follow the wandering thoughts.

So while there might be a lot to be said about remaining focused there's more to be said about the need to listen to that still, small voice inside you to discover what really matters.