Tales from Today: Resurrection

Today for the kids' lecture in the church basement (during the adult's lecture upstairs) Fr Boris taught the kids the general rules of Orthodox prayer. One question he asked them was "Why do we stand when we pray?" Their answers, translated: "Because as Christians we are given work/struggles, and standing during prayer is one of them;" and "To help us concentrate our thoughts on prayer instead of on other things;" and "Because He is the king above all" (and you do not dare sit before a king). Fr Boris affirmed their good answers, then he further explained that we stand during prayer also because we believe in the resurrection of Christ. When someone is resurrected, he doesn't sit down, he stands up! And so as a symbol of our belief, we always stand during prayer.

Christ is risen!

Later today Taisia was singing with gusto the Paschal troparion (as she often does these days): "Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tomb bestowing life!" Then she asked us individually: "Are you risen?" With a chuckle we each explained: "No, I'm not. First I have to die before I can be resurrected by (with) Christ."

Truly He is risen!

Pelagia's Birth

So here is the long story of my short labor and delivery. By the way, "JH" is my midwife--I didn't have a chance yet to ask how she felt about me using her name.

THE EARLY DRAMA

Tuesday March 3, 2009 --At 3am my eyes fluttered open only to have my water break a second later. I got up and flicked on the light to inspect the scene and tell Andrei that my water broke. He rolled out of bed long enough to see it for himself, then he sleepily said that he was going back to bed. (Later he told me that at that moment he had a deja-vu back to the morning before I had Taisia realized that he'd better get some rest. Kinda like "Oh boy, here we go again!") I spent the next hour or so in the bathroom doing the math, looking back at all the pre-labor signs that had been pointing to this moment, and trying to calm my adrenaline rush. I also filled my big water cup (1 L) and had some cheese. I remembered what a poor job of eating and drinking I did with my first, and this time I wanted to do it right.

Ideally I would have "waited" to go into labor until Friday, Wednesday at the earliest, and here I was early Tuesday morning with a broken bag of waters and intermittent contractions. I was a little nervous but decided to try to relax; after all, there was no stopping it now. So I prayed, particularly to the Theotokos (Mother of God/God-bearer) and to St Luke of Simferopol (during his life he had the gift of healing both through prayer and through his skills as a surgeon)--I also anointed myself with oil from the lampada by his incorrupt relics. I then drank some holy water (water blessed by the priest with special prayers) and laid back in bed, prayer rope in hand. As my fingers passed over each wooden bead, I inhaled "Lord Jesus Christ" and exhaled "have mercy on me" or "on my unborn child". This helped me focus and relax.

At 6am I finally decided to call J.H. Now, I was supposed to call her when my water broke, but I thought "Oh, but it's so early. I'll wait a few. I'll for sure call if things really pick up." Actually, I was also supposed to keep her informed about my early signs so that she'd have fair warning of my impending labor/birth. So, um yeah, I probably should've called her on Sunday when I lost my mucous plug, or at least on Monday when I felt more pressure and had a sense of something being different somehow... But anyway, the point is that I did finally call 3 hours after my water broke. When she picked up and heard it was me, it was something like "Oh dear, it's you" because, as I mentioned, it was a little early in the week for this to be happening. Because I was riding the line of delivering a little early versus delivering too early, she encouraged me to have a serious talk with Andrei to weigh the risks and benefits of delivering at home at this point; meanwhile she'd seriously think about her own comfort-level with the situation, keeping everyone's safety in mind. She gave me some statistics and other information to consider and said to call her back once we'd had a chance to talk.

After my conversation with J.H., I became afraid of my contractions (still intermittent) which made them hurt more. I woke Andrei up and gave him the run-down. As odd as it might seem to some, having to deliver in the hospital was/is a scary, unthinkable proposition to me. The only reason I'd ever be "glad" to go would be if I were in a scary situation that very much required the skills of the doctors and nurses. In our case, I was completely torn about what would be the right decision since it was not dire nor totally risk-free (is it ever, though?). Although he, too, was looking forward to a home birth, Andrei was more than willing to go to the hospital if it meant everyone would be safe. After a hard cry, I decided that I could and would go to the hospital if, after talking with JH again, we all decided it would be best. After all, I didn't want to avoid the hospital simply out of principle. It was important for me to concede to the fact that I may not get the birth I wanted and to remember what really mattered --that today I'd meet my sweet little baby. With all the emotions flooding over me, my contractions completely stopped.

Around 7am I called my trusty sister-in-law/doula, Angela, for her opinion and support. She did some research and called me back with some helpful information and thoughts. She advised me to put myself on modified bedrest until we'd spoken with JH again. After having that good cry and then after talking to Angela, I felt refreshed and more clear-minded. Andrei and I had another discussion, and we decided that if JH were to leave it completely up to us, we'd feel most comfortable (and safe!) staying home. However, if her advice leaned towards going to the hospital, we were ready to do that. With that decided, Andrei and Taisia brought me a big bowl of cottage cheese and fruit and refilled my water cup. I then began reading the Akathist to the Mother of God.

Around 10am-ish, Angela came by with treats from a local pastry shop, and soon after that JH arrived to look me over and to talk. After some discussion about the pros and cons and agreeing about the fact that having babies on the early side is nothing new in my family, we decided that we were all confident that everything would go well and baby would be just fine. We would be having a home birth after all! Glory to God! I was so incredibly relieved that it felt a bit surreal at first.

From this point on I didn't necessarily need to stay in bed any more, and JH predicted that my contractions would start again either at Taisia's nap-time or later, once she was asleep for the night. In the meantime, my goal was to get some sleep since I'd been up since 3 am.

THINGS GET GOING

It was such a bright, beautiful spring day. It was warm enough to have the windows open, and a gentle breeze freshened the air in our apartment. I felt particularly cheery laying in bed, looking out the window. Before taking a snooze, we decided that we'd better set up for the birth. I sat on the couch while Andrei covered the floor with plastic and got the kiddie pool/birth tub ready in the main room. Then he and Taisia left to get a couple last minute items while I tried to sleep. Although I never quite fell asleep, I was able to deeply relax for the next two hours or so. During this time the contractions started coming every 10-15 minutes. They were quite strong and required me to focus on breathing my way through them, but I was able to continue laying in bed. After Taisia went down for a nap (around 1:45p), I got up and, as JH predicted, the contractions became more frequent. I soon found that singing through the contractions decreased the pain so I walked around with my ipod and sang along to my favorite liturgical/spiritual songs. I played a song only during a contraction so that it would help me focus and would not become just background noise. Between contractions I brought out more gear for the birth, proof-read a blog post for Andrei's website, and set up a little table by the pool with candles I'd received from my Blessingway and the icons of the Theotokos and St Luke. Meanwhile, Andrei wrote that blog post, started filling the pool, read with Taisia, gave me hugs and asked "Can I do anything for you? You're so independent this time!" As for Taisia, when she and her wild hair woke up from her nap and saw Andrei filling the pool, she immediately stripped down and hovered around the pool with the fish net, just waiting to get in.

By 2:30p I realized that I'd better start keeping track of the duration and frequency of the contractions. As it turned out they were already 3-4 minutes apart, lasting almost a minute. Around 3p I hesitantly suggested that Andrei call JH and Angela to let them know our status--it seemed odd to call after it'd been only 30 minutes. JH told him that it sounded like we'd be having the baby soon and that she'd be right over. I think everyone arrived around 3:30p. I kept thinking that I felt too comfortable for them to have come already, but I knew that the timing of the contractions indicated otherwise.

LET THE FUN BEGIN

Not long after everyone arrived, I had to stop walking altogether and instead leaned onto the arm of the couch and rocked my hips. Once it became too hard to sing, I listened to the sisters from St Paisius Monastery sing the Jesus Prayer. I put it on repeat, and that song is what got me through every contraction (all 10 of them...just kidding) up until the last few pushes.

During this time, I know that Taisia read a book "about babies born" with Angela--so cute!--but other than that I'm not sure what she was doing. Most likely she was still eyeing the pool!

Although I didn't get the shakes this time around, I did get some strong cramps in my hamstrings--almost hurt as much or more than the contractions! JH gave me some sublingual homeopathic Magnesium tabs which helped a little bit. The cramping made me want to squat on the floor to rest my muscles, so Andrei suggested that I lean on the birth ball. I didn't think I wanted it, but when he brought it over anyway I quickly changed my mind. While I labored on my knees, leaning over the ball, Taisia and Andrei applied gentle pressure on my back. (I didn't want much pressure b/c it made it hurt more.) I loved to feel her hot naked little body next to me and her little hand on my back as she and Papa faithfully stood by my side--it was so sweet! She saw how the ladies kept offering me a drink between contractions so once she also made sure to offer me a drink--"Drink Mama? Mama, wanna drink?", holding the straw for me and everything. She was just how I'd imagined she'd be. Andrei did a fantastic job with her.

As the contractions became more intense, I remembered how hard it had become towards the end of my labor the first time. I became a little nervous about what lay ahead! I mentioned it to everyone, and later they told me that this was one indication to them that I was in transition. Sure enough, around that time I started feeling "pushy." They asked if I wanted to get in the pool. I wasn't excited about it, but I remembered how I got stuck in certain positions with Taisia's birth so I decided to go for it. Plus, Taisia would've been so disappointed if the baby wasn't born in the water--in her mind that's just how it is supposed to happen! Well, the water felt amazing and I was so glad that I got in!

Of course, this was Taisia's chance to finally get in the water. She got her trusty fish net and was catching "fishies" when she wasn't helping me through a contraction. I only had to ask her once not to climb on me, and when she was a bit too loud during a contraction I'd just turn up my ipod. It was a pleasure to have her in there with me; her happiness made me happy. However after seeing the first small blood clot float up, she was ready to get out, like, now! So the rest of the time she sat with "Aunt Ah" who wrapped her in a towel and kept her close.

HI, BABY!

In the tub it felt good to really push through the contractions, but at the same time I was hesitant because I could hardly believe that it was already that time! But everyone kept telling me that if my body wanted to push then I should do it and not back away from the pain. So I listened and did my best to go with the flow. I really tried to push hard while keeping my hands and breathing relaxed. Unlike with the last birth, this time I was fairly quiet while pushing. I don't know when exactly, but at some point Taisia reminded me (with a brief demonstration) about what labor is "supposed" to sound like, based on all those birth videos we watched together :)

Very soon JH told me that I could reach down and feel the head. It was only about 1" in--again, I was amazed that the baby was right there! Feeling the head inside boosted my confidence and helped me mentally picture where she was and what was happening as she moved down and out. (It reminds me of how, with Taisia, I didn't believe she was actually going to come out until I'd delivered her whole body!)

Finally the baby's little head popped out, and I felt such relief that I stopped, drew back and exclaimed, "Is that the baby?!"
"Yes," they said, "It's the head. Keep pushing."
"Oh, okay."
Meanwhile, Taisia was quiet and watchful, and Angela said that she could feel her little heart racing. I'm so thankful she had her auntie to help her feel felt safe!

After a little more pushing the little sweetie was born. I was on my knees, leaning over the side, and when I felt her coming I reached down and pulled her up in front of me--I'll never forget how tiny and squirmy she was! I quickly sat back, happy as can be, and looked at our new baby. She was pink, covered in vernix and had just a slight cone-head molding. She opened her eyes right away and gave a few kitten-like squeals. We didn't find out the gender ahead of time, so when JH inadvertently referring to the baby as "her" it reminded me to look and see who it was. Indeed we had another little girl! We called Taisia over and she patted her on the head and said "Hi baby!"

With some help I stood up and stepped out of the pool to deliver the placenta. This time the cord was well connected (no crazy velamentous insertion this time) and the placenta was small and a little old-looking (I guess, because it had some calcifications, right ladies?) I sat against the pool for a bit, and baby rooted around and showed signs that she'd probably nurse well later.

Sure enough, once we were situated in bed she latched on after a few tries and nursed for the next 30 minutes. While she nursed, I asked Andrei to name her. He made the final decision to name her Pelagia Andreyevna.

Pelagia's exam showed her to be totally healthy and normal. She did have an intermittent heart murmur, but it resolved by the next day if I remember correctly. She weighed 5 lbs 15 oz and was about 18 inches long. JH estimated my blood loss to have been around 250 ml, which really isn't much. Generally I felt strong, though sore. I didn't even need stitches. We were both in great shape, especially considering the "precipitous" birth (labor/birth 2 hrs or less).

Soon Caleb and the kids came over for dinner and to meet Pelagia. Taisia had lots of fun playing with them. I'm sure it helped her release some tension after all that she just experienced. Also, Grandma Jo came bearing treats from Whole Foods, including fun things like little cookies for the big sister.

Andrei and I were simply amazed at our day. The birth really couldn't have been more perfect, down to all the little details: getting to stay home; perfect weather; it happened during the day instead of the middle of the night; Taisia being able to be a part of the process; me being so calm and happy; the contractions not so difficult as before; nice and quick labor; no complications; healthy mom and baby... It was miraculous!

One of the very special things that worked out just perfectly was being able to have Taisia at my side during the whole process. I had really, really hoped it would work out for her to be home for the birth, even if it meant she would be in bed sleeping. Just having her in the house was so important to me. My ideal, though, was to have her awake and a part of the process. But, you just never know with kids. She would need to be in the right mood, it would need to coordinate with her nap just so, and the labor couldn't be too terribly intense or long. And sure enough, it all worked out. It was such a joy to have my little family all together as we welcomed a new member.

JH, her apprentice and Angela (my birth team) were wonderful--I so appreciate their wisdom and support. I am very thankful for the prayers of my family and for the intercessions of the blessed Theotokos and St Luke of Simferopol. Through their prayers, everything was pretty much perfect. Truly God is wondrous in His saints!

Glory to God for all things!

Ostrov

The simplicity, the humbleness, the remoteness, the miracles converge into creating a timeless snapshot of the Orthodox spirituality, apart from the historical circumstances. Patriarch Alexei II of Russia praised Ostrov for its profound depiction of faith and monastic life, calling it a "vivid example of an effort to take a Christian approach to culture." (Wikipedia)

Over the holidays I had the opportunity to watch Ostrov yet again (Russian film portraying Orthodox spirituality). Afterwards my husband and I both commented on how the more we watch it, the more we get it. What I love the most are the prayers: the Jesus Prayer, Psalm 50, the Trisagion, the opening of Divine Liturgy... When I hear those oh-so-familiar words, I have a strong sense of home and peace whether it is being prayed in Russian, English, in my own parish, in a church in a different country (or even jurisdiction :) ), or in a film.

I jotted down some of the thoughts about it that have been floating around in my mind and thought I'd type 'em up--no particular agenda or message to this post. Mostly factoids. Probably will use bullet points, even. Whether or not you've seen the movie, this probably will seem quite random. Not sure if I'd call these spoilers, but I guess if you like to experience movies like this without any expectations or preconceived thoughts, you may not want to read this.

So anway...

• I really noticed this time how there is no indication of disbelief or surprise when the monks find out that Fr Anatoly is preparing to depart this life and that he knows the exact day. Those who live holy lives of prayer more expect miracles and this sort of thing than they are surprised by them. They have a clearer understanding of reality and of what is the norm. The Orthodox approach to death is one of the things which will change me the most over time, I think. The balance of sober reality and peace is really beautiful, and I appreciate how it is portrayed in this film.

• As a fool for Christ, Fr Anatoly disguises his greatness (God's grace) before others so as to avoid praise and elevation in rank. When his strange ways are judged, he only defends himself with Scripture--that really stuck out to me this time. Although he is simply following Christ's example with his responses, at first glance it looks like just another example of odd behavior. But he has truly become a stranger to this world, and he does not seek any justification from man.
  

• This was the first time it sunk in that the cozy room where Fr Anatoly prays (keeps his icon) is his cell where he's supposed to sleep. However, he chooses to sleep on the rough coals without any bedding. Before, I recognized it as an aesthetic effort of depriving himself of unnecessary comforts. This time I see it as him keeping his sins continually before himself in order to stay in a constant state of repentence. He labors over the coal (symbol of his sin) during the day, sleeps on it at night, and suffers with it in his lungs. Because of his life of repentence and humility, God grants him the gift of tears, prayer of the heart, healing, and of clairvoyance.

• I think the abbot Filaret is a great character. He seems peace-loving and unobtrusive. He sees Fr Anatoly's holiness and has the difficult job of reconciling (before the other monks) Fr Anatoly's unusual ways with the order of the monastery. I also notice that he does not seem intimidated by the fact that Fr Anatoly, a simple monk whom he probably helped to save, has apparently achieved a higher level of holiness than himself, the abbot. Also, during the movie his quiet demeanor is contrasted with a firey, obnoxious confrontation of his sin. As an observer it is easy to judge his character for being so attached to fine boots and linens, being an abbot and all. However, in "reality" (being that he's fictional), he lives in the harsh conditions of northern Russia on an island and takes comfort in a couple worldly things which he didn't even buy for himself. Those are small potatoes compared to my worldly appetite for comfort and fine things! What is most important is that he readily humbles himself, takes the correction and is thankful for it.

• Frs Job and Filaret are convicted of their own downfalls just by interacting with Fr Anatoly in his regular day-to-day life. His virtues exaggerate their sins. Him sleeping on coals and doing such hard labor in his poor health is in stark contrast to the abbot's beloved luxuries. His humility and prostrations for forgiveness before Job frustrate Job all the more because he is not willing to let go of his pride. It is interesting how true that is to reality.

• Lastly, it always strikes me how people come to Fr Anatoly looking for advise, prayer and miracles, but then are unwilling to accept all that is offered to them. They thought they knew what they wanted... The mother brought her son for physical healing, but did not care as much for his spiritual healing although that is the whole point of life and therefore of God's dealings with us.

If you haven't seen Ostrov yet, I highly recommend it. I have to admit (and warn you) that the subtitles are subpar for sure. But I have heard enough great reviews from English-only speakers to have hope that it can make some sense anyway.

St Nicholas of Myra...the feast approaches!

The truth of thy deeds
hath revealed thee to thy flock as a canon of faith,
an icon of meekness,
and a teacher of abstinence;
for this cause thou hast achieved the heights by humility,
riches by poverty,
O Father and Hierarch Nicholas,
intercede with Christ God that our souls may be saved. ~ Troparion

This glorious saint, celebrated even today throughout the entire world, was the only son of his eminent and wealthy parents, Theophanes and Nona, citizens of the city of Patara in Lycia. Since he was the only son bestowed on them by God, the parents returned the gift to God by dedicating their son to Him. St. Nicholas learned of the spiritual life from his uncle Nicholas, Bishop of Patara, and was tonsured a monk in the Monastery of New Zion founded by his uncle. Following the death of his parents, Nicholas distributed all his inherited goods to the poor, not keeping anything for himself. As a priest in Patara, he was known for his charity, even though he carefully concealed his charitable works, fulfilling the words of the Lord: Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth (Matthew 6:3). When he gave himself over to solitude and silence, thinking to live that way until his death, a voice from on high came to him: “Nicholas, for your ascetic labor, work among the people, if thou desirest to be crowned by Me.” Immediately after that, by God’s wondrous providence, he was chosen archbishop of the city of Myra in Lycia. Merciful, wise and fearless, Nicholas was a true shepherd to his flock. During the persecution of Christians under Diocletian and Maximian, he was cast into prison, but even there he instructed the people in the Law of God. He was present at the First Ecumenical Council of Nicaea [325] and, out of great zeal for the truth, struck the heretic Arius with his hand. For this act he was removed from the Council and from his archiepiscopal duties, until the Lord Christ Himself and the Most-holy Theotokos appeared to several of the chief hierarchs and revealed their approval of Nicholas. A defender of God’s truth, this wonderful saint was ever bold as a defender of justice among the people. On two occasions, he saved three men from an undeserved sentence of death. Merciful, truthful, and a lover of justice, he walked among the people as an angel of God. Even during his lifetime, the people considered him a saint and invoked his aid in difficulties and in distress. He appeared both in dreams and in person to those who called upon him, and he helped them easily and speedily, whether close at hand or far away. A light shone from his face as it did from the face of Moses, and he, by his presence alone, brought comfort, peace and good will among men. In old age he became ill for a short time and entered into the rest of the Lord, after a life full of labor and very fruitful toil, to rejoice eternally in the Kingdom of Heaven, continuing to help the faithful on earth by his miracles and to glorify his God. He entered into rest on December 6, 343. ~The Prologue From Ohrid (written by St Nikolai of Ochrid)

Commemorated December 6 (19, OC).

what would i do?

What would I do if one of my children told me they were gay?

Recently my husband was asked this question, but not by a Christian conservative. It was prefaced with the comments: "You are super conservative" and "Many gays were raised in very religious homes."

When told about it, my first thought was: "Super conservative? Ha, yeah right." It's funny that when someone has a certain set of beliefs they're immediately given the infamous "conservative" label. My second thought was me wanting to ask this guy: "Oh, so you don't believe that it is genetic?"

Hurt pride aside, the main thing I thought and have continued to think about was, "What would there be to DO?" Not knowing what we'd DO apparently means that we are in denial, being ultra-conservative and all. But, really. What is there to do? Sure, I'd most likely be shocked, in denial, confused. But those are not actions. I'm assuming he was asking if we'd kick them out of the house and/or try to convince them that they, in fact, are not gay and send them to some kind of group therapy. Funny how none of that crossed my mind until it (so it seems) was projected onto me/our family.

All I know is that I'd keep loving them. True love is shown through action, right? So I hope that I'd do my best to show them love, first and foremost.

It's got me wondering, what is more unnatural to our nature: judgment and hatred or homosexuality?

I think that what I've learned from this little conversation (that didn't even involve me directly) is that what I'd DO is act preemptively by trying to raise my children a certain way. Teach them to praise God in all things and for all things (and people). Teach them love and humility and also about the nature of sin. Teach them the parable: "Let him without sin cast the first stone." Help them find at least one way in which their neighbor surpasses them in holiness (yes, even the atheist, gay neighbor). Teach them Orthodox beliefs and values, and help them "have an answer for everything"--not be blind sheep. Teach them the nature of this world and that of the world we await and strive toward. To be strong in their values and not support the normalization of any sin, but also not to be surprised and reactive when others clash against them and want the opposite...

Kind of a tall order, but such is parenting anyway! Through trying to teach them these things hopefully I myself will learn a thing or two. This way, if we do have that 'fateful' conversation, maybe I will be prepared to ACT as a "conservative, really religious" Christian parent should--with love.

So that's my story, and I'm stickin' to it :)

revelation about Revelation

I was just listening to Matthew Gallatin and he was talking about sola scriptura. He mentioned the use of Rev. 22:18-19 as support for sola scriptura and then read the passage. As he was reading, before he said anything more, the light bulb went off in my head and I practically gasped from surprise at the obvious:

Revelation 22:18-19
"For I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the prophesy of this book, If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book. And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophesy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city and from the things which are written in this book."

Advocates of sola scriptura heavily rely on this passage: to them "the book" mentioned is the complete, Old and New Testament Bible--the complete canon. However, the book in question is plainly "this prophesy" of St John and not the entire New Testament canon (which did not exist at the time). In fact, the book of Revelation almost didn't make it into the final New Testament canon.

Nowhere in Scripture does it say that ALL the important doctrines and traditions that Christians are to follow are spelled out in the letters written by the apostles to the churches (esp in those specific ones that made it into the complete canon). And nowhere does it say that any practice not specifically spelled out in the Scriptures is to be rejected (unless Rev 22;18-19 is misinterpreted).

One must presuppose sola scriptura to be true in order to interpret the passage to be referring to the complete canon of the Bible as we know it today.

the 17th Kathisma

I have been reading the 17th Kathisma of the Psalter for my departed Grandmother and am interested to learn the specific reasons why this particular Kathisma was chosen.

Personally, as I read it I think, "This is not describing me at all!" and that's partly why I wondered why it would be read for me at my departure from this life. Here is a quote that directly addresses my question:

"At this service the 17th Kathisma (17th Kathisma — a Kathisma is one of the 20 divisions of the Psalter. The 17th Kathisma is comprised solely of Psalm 118 (Psalm 119 in the King James Version), the longest psalm in the Psalter) is read, which reveals to us the condition of our heart, and like a magnet draws out of it everything passionate and sinful which prevents us from approaching the Lord." (The One Thing Needful)

As I, a sinner, read it, it really does seem to turn into a prayer of compunction followed with the hope that someday, somehow I will be able to pray Prophet David's words from a pure heart.

Please share if you have learned anything about it or find anything!