I must confess to absolutely being with Dan on the enthusiasm or affection or sheer joy of The Transfiguration. That same flesh, that finite, broken and breakable flesh that we bear often with such difficulty, was glorified, or its divine glory was revealed, and that's amazing! Your ideas here have helped me with a poem I want to write. Hopefully that will come soon.
First of all, thank you for making the trek to be with us in Alaska. I have heard from many people, including myself, who found your talks very helpful!
As a lifelong Protestant (until last year), the Transfiguration was not specifically commemorated (in fact, nothing really was besides Christmas and Easter) and rarely even brought up. So if it even came up in my 'bible in a year' plan it was also something I just glossed over and considered somewhat odd and extra... This was my first time experiencing an embodied participation in the Transfiguration there at our special little St. Sergius chapel in the magical Alaskan woods.
I've spent the last 4 years feeling pretty disoriented after a major relational rupture, like I'm wandering around in a foggy woodland, particularly in terms of creative calling / God's will. I've long felt like I was not only hunting in the wrong forest, but barking up the wrong tree. I gratefully feel like I've found an Orthodox woodland that I can call home, but I'm still being dragged along by a pair of inherited, moody hunting dogs named "Rational Materialist" and "Cynical Nominalist." I'm not sure whether to retrain them or just take off the lead and let them run away. :)
Standing in the tiny chapel as it filled with incense I found myself struggling to breath and I thought, "This is how I've felt for the last four years." Gagging on the fog of confusion and frustration, unable to breathe, let alone sing or speak. And then a question occurred to me... "what if you, Nicole, haven't been lost in the woods searching for my will, but completely wrapped up in my presence, a presence too close to perceive?" Like a fish in water, has the presence of God been so present that I haven't been able to "see the forest for the trees" in my intellectual, analytical search of "his will?" I'm coming to realize that in my pursuit of the mind of God, I've been missing His heart.
It has definitely felt like life has forced me to "take in more than [my] aperture can accommodate, and [my] ability to clearly perceive and integrate my experience" has indeed broken down. I'm not really sure at this point whether I'm lost in fog/darkness, or drowning in light?! I share all of this to say thank you for inviting me to SEE the Transfiguration in a new light. I'll be sitting in the darkroom, prayerfully watching for these insights to continue to expose themselves to me. I'm so excited to hopefully continue to explore these topics with you through coaching. :) See ya tomorrow!
I can testify to the incense being particularly foggy that morning in such a small space! ... But what a space! (And at least the smoke kept the mosquitoes out.) Thank you for reminding me of that detail and sharing some of your story here for myself and others to relate to. And thank you, too, for your conversation and talks in Alaska. It was lovely to meet you and I'm looking forward to hearing more!
I must confess, as a new convert I thought the Transfiguration was sort of a random feast. Like, it's in the Gospels, but... there were several much cooler stories in the Gospels that didn't get their own holidays. Why was there no Feast of Jesus Walking on Water or Jesus Raising Jairus' Daughter? Where was the Feast of Feeding the Five Thousand?
But now I see it more as a prefiguration of what we might become one day-- full of light and glory-- if we give ourselves to Him as a free-will offering. I especially loved this line from your essay: "If He loves us and crafted creation so as to offer the possibility of that love being something that could be shared—offered and received in mutual freedom—then I guess we can’t think of the Transfiguration as an optional flourish. It has to be part of salvation itself."
Awww I love this picture of you two, the account of Dan's zest for the feast, and this reflection on your own personal journey! Different feasts mean something to us at different stages of life, which is one of the lovely things about this way of life -- there is always a deeper layer, and a deeper layer, and a yet deeper one, etc. It's so comforting to never ever reach the end of Meanings, it's just more and more unfolding beauty all the way down. :)
(PS - Does Dan have a pen on his hat in that photo?)
I must confess to absolutely being with Dan on the enthusiasm or affection or sheer joy of The Transfiguration. That same flesh, that finite, broken and breakable flesh that we bear often with such difficulty, was glorified, or its divine glory was revealed, and that's amazing! Your ideas here have helped me with a poem I want to write. Hopefully that will come soon.
Can't wait to read it!
First of all, thank you for making the trek to be with us in Alaska. I have heard from many people, including myself, who found your talks very helpful!
As a lifelong Protestant (until last year), the Transfiguration was not specifically commemorated (in fact, nothing really was besides Christmas and Easter) and rarely even brought up. So if it even came up in my 'bible in a year' plan it was also something I just glossed over and considered somewhat odd and extra... This was my first time experiencing an embodied participation in the Transfiguration there at our special little St. Sergius chapel in the magical Alaskan woods.
I've spent the last 4 years feeling pretty disoriented after a major relational rupture, like I'm wandering around in a foggy woodland, particularly in terms of creative calling / God's will. I've long felt like I was not only hunting in the wrong forest, but barking up the wrong tree. I gratefully feel like I've found an Orthodox woodland that I can call home, but I'm still being dragged along by a pair of inherited, moody hunting dogs named "Rational Materialist" and "Cynical Nominalist." I'm not sure whether to retrain them or just take off the lead and let them run away. :)
Standing in the tiny chapel as it filled with incense I found myself struggling to breath and I thought, "This is how I've felt for the last four years." Gagging on the fog of confusion and frustration, unable to breathe, let alone sing or speak. And then a question occurred to me... "what if you, Nicole, haven't been lost in the woods searching for my will, but completely wrapped up in my presence, a presence too close to perceive?" Like a fish in water, has the presence of God been so present that I haven't been able to "see the forest for the trees" in my intellectual, analytical search of "his will?" I'm coming to realize that in my pursuit of the mind of God, I've been missing His heart.
It has definitely felt like life has forced me to "take in more than [my] aperture can accommodate, and [my] ability to clearly perceive and integrate my experience" has indeed broken down. I'm not really sure at this point whether I'm lost in fog/darkness, or drowning in light?! I share all of this to say thank you for inviting me to SEE the Transfiguration in a new light. I'll be sitting in the darkroom, prayerfully watching for these insights to continue to expose themselves to me. I'm so excited to hopefully continue to explore these topics with you through coaching. :) See ya tomorrow!
I can testify to the incense being particularly foggy that morning in such a small space! ... But what a space! (And at least the smoke kept the mosquitoes out.) Thank you for reminding me of that detail and sharing some of your story here for myself and others to relate to. And thank you, too, for your conversation and talks in Alaska. It was lovely to meet you and I'm looking forward to hearing more!
Wow. Beautiful, as always.
I must confess, as a new convert I thought the Transfiguration was sort of a random feast. Like, it's in the Gospels, but... there were several much cooler stories in the Gospels that didn't get their own holidays. Why was there no Feast of Jesus Walking on Water or Jesus Raising Jairus' Daughter? Where was the Feast of Feeding the Five Thousand?
But now I see it more as a prefiguration of what we might become one day-- full of light and glory-- if we give ourselves to Him as a free-will offering. I especially loved this line from your essay: "If He loves us and crafted creation so as to offer the possibility of that love being something that could be shared—offered and received in mutual freedom—then I guess we can’t think of the Transfiguration as an optional flourish. It has to be part of salvation itself."
Awww I love this picture of you two, the account of Dan's zest for the feast, and this reflection on your own personal journey! Different feasts mean something to us at different stages of life, which is one of the lovely things about this way of life -- there is always a deeper layer, and a deeper layer, and a yet deeper one, etc. It's so comforting to never ever reach the end of Meanings, it's just more and more unfolding beauty all the way down. :)
(PS - Does Dan have a pen on his hat in that photo?)
lol I think so! We had met in a park to write. It was shortly after I moved here and I think there were still some lockdown measures in place.