July 14, 2005: Spiritual Oasis in the Modern Desert
Dear Fathers, Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,
Our Mission Team recently returned from a visit to the Hogar Ragael Ayau Orphanage in Guatemala City. Once again, this proved to be a wonderful trip that accomplished its three major goals: the delivery of a substantial monetary donation supplemented by many vitally-needed materials; a great deal of maintenance work done on behalf of the orphanage; and a great deal of close and loving interaction with the children of an unforgettable and, perhaps, indescribable nature. These all-too-brief encounters with the children of the Hogar are nevertheless balanced by a kind of intensity that leaves a series of indelible - if not searing - images on the minds and hearts of all team members. Photos, although a pale copy of the original experience, become more than "snapshot memories," but a desperate attempt to retain a tangible expression of the unmistakable "flow of love" that enlivened those days spent together. As friendships and attachments with the children begin to form and deepen, the common refrain, "Is it already time to leave?' takes on something of the quality of a lament as the time to depart approaches. (The next most common refrain then becomes, "Will I be able to return one day?") When the children and Mission Team members line up for the rite of the "farewell hug" on the last day, many tears are openly shed within both lines! As in the past, the Hogar continues to remain an overwhelming experience.
Of the twelve members on our team, about one half of them were making their first visit to the Hogar. It is always fascinating to speak with first-time visitors to the Hogar and to hear their various attempts at describing its over-all "feel" or "atmosphere." Upon its initial mention, one such descriptive term that seems to receive general approbation is that of the Hogar as a "spiritual oasis" for the children. For those who seek crisp definitions, the Compact Oxford English Dictionary provides the following:
oasis - noun (pl. oases) 1 a fertile spot in a desert where water rises to ground level. 2 an area or period of calm in the midst of a difficult or hectic place or situation. - origin Greek, from Egyptian.
With the Hogar, this term can be understood both literally and metaphorically. As described before, the Hogar occupies a large square city block completely surrounded by a fifteen-foot high wall. There is a metal gate at the entrance controlled by the appointed security guards. Whatever the original intention and environment of the Hogar (it traces it origins to the 19th c.), today this "fortress-like" structure protects the children from the criminal and other threatening elements of Guatemala City's rough and tough zona 1 - clearly "a difficult or hectic place or situation" as defined above. What is of far greater significance is what is going on internally within the protective walls of the Hogar. If I recall correctly, I have written earlier and elsewhere that the Hogar is "an oasis of normalcy, sanity and basic decency" - even something of a "paradise" for these children from horrible and hellish backgrounds. And, if you will patiently allow me one more point of emphasis from past writings on the Hogar, I would like to re-emphasize the role of the Church in the process of healing these troubled children. (Another excellent description of the Hogar would be that of a "childrens' monastery"). The children of the Hogar are protected from the outside world for the purpose of being healed by Christ through the grace-filled life of the Church, especially through regular participation in the Holy Mysteries/Sacraments.
On one particular day, I was asked by Madre Ivonne to anoint all of the children. I visited various classrooms, the nursery, the infirmary and other places where the children were. They would all eagerly line up in anticipation of a practice that they were already quite familiar with. Later in the day, many of the younger children would approach me and smilingly point to their foreheards and the very spot on which they were anointed. This is more than just a "cute" anecdote," but rather an account indicative of the over-all atmosphere of the Hogar The Church is central, not peripheral, to the ongoing life of the Hogar. This is an "ecclesial orphanage," if I may also use that term.
Turning our attention beyond the enclosed space of the Hogar for the moment, or perhaps using it as a model, I would say that the image of a "spiritual oasis" can equally and as effectively describe the role of our parishes in today's world. In other words, our Orthodox Christian parishes can be experienced as spiritual oases within the superficial and spiritually-barren environment that threatens to reduce our moral, ethical, social and spiritual surroundings to something of a cultural "wasteland." Now, if that sounds too "negative" or bombastic - or simply like too much of a religiously-driven cliche - I would suggest taking a good, hard look at what is being offered as "food and drink" to our souls today. The non-nutritional fare of those over-sized "food courts" within our mega-malls that pass for "dining areas" today, only serves as representative of the less tangible, seemingly more cerebral, but equally toxic fare that is served up smilingly for our interior consumption. We may be temporarily entertained or distracted, but our minds and hearts will remain famished and hungering for something "other."
That "other" is present in our parishes like "a fertile spot in a desert where water rises." This is the living water of the Gospel. As Jesus said to the Samaritan woman:
The parish as a liturgical, scriptural, spiritual, artistic and social center is the sacred space of Christ's presence. It is where we are able to "worship the Father in spirit and truth." (JN. 4:23)That is its essential purpose for existence. It is where we abandon the superficial for the profound and the ephemeral for the eternal. The parish is an "oasis" of normalcy, sanity and basic decency in a world which has comfortably lost its sense of God. (I recall Fr. Thomas Hopko once saying that the Church is the place where you can maintain your sanity). To enter the church is not only to shut out the world, but also to enter into a foretaste of the Kingdom. The temple as a visible reminder of the Transcendent God is a challenge to the world's thorough secularization, if not godlessness. Every trip to the church reaffirms our witness to that truth.
It therefore remains a real "puzzlement" as to why many of our parishes remain relatively empty during the week. And that the week's "activities" do not have much of an impact on the over-all life of the parish - from Feast Days, to weekday Vespers, to parish Bible Studies. There is something more at work here than "busy schedules" and tired bodies. Are we being seduced by the world and thus reduced to the level of a "consumer" to the point where the church is just not that attractive? More bluntly: is it the church which appears as a "desert" to us while some other enticement seems like the "oasis?" Sounds like a mirage to me! Are our human resources of time and energy being spent elsewhere? Are we convinced that we are just fine with a Sunday-to-Sunday approach to our parish commitment? The image I use for this is the Church as "filling station." We "filll up" on Sunday and hope and pray that that will carry us through to next Sunday's "fill up!" The Eucharist, of course, can have that kind of effect for us, but why ignore the waters of our spiritual oasis when they are being offered at other times?
I have moved from the Hogar to the parish in this Meditation. Perhaps the experience of the one has led me to a greater appreciation of the other in our midst. Be that as it may, I am certain as to where Christ would direct anyone with the same question of the Samaritan woman: "Sir, give me this water, that I may not thirst, nor come here to draw." (JN. 4:15)
Fr. Steven
July 6, 2005 - Mission Recap and Looking Ahead to 2006
Dear Parish Faithful,
As you know, we returned from our Mission Team trip to Guatemala and the Hogar late last week. Once again, an overwhelming experience for, I believe, every member of our team. Our first-time Team members now face the impossible task of trying to describe their encounter with the Hogar and the children. Good luck! Kris Duke and Kara Krueger were excellent group leaders and the entire team thrived under their leadership. As in the past, I plan on writing some more extensive descriptive passages about this year's team in the near future.
For the moment, as I announced in church on Sunday, I am trying to determine if there is any real desire to begin planning for a Cincinnati Mission Team 2006! That may sound wildly premature, but Christina Hegelios, Mission Team co-ordinator at the Hogar, needs to at least 'pencil us in' for a June slot for next year if there are signs of interest on our end. She needs to hear at least a tentative commitment from us within the next few weeks so that they can plan their calendar accordingly. If things do not develop here as planned, they will be able to replace us in plenty of time.
I can assure you that with our four consecutive teams dating back to 2002, we have established the very highest reputation with the Hogar. The Hogar looks forward to our team, trusting that we will work well on behalf of the orphanage and especially interact lovingly with the children. This year's team further solidified our reputation.
To be a member of a Mission Team requires a strong commitment:
Two people have already made a commitment - a new member and one from this year's team. A team can consist of between 10-15 members. So, if you would seriously like to consider the possibility and make at least an initial commitment, please let me know as soon as possible. We can draw Team members from other parishes or even non-Orthodox who would want to participate. If you know of anyone, pass this letter on to them please.
Fr. Steven