Worthy of the Grace

This morning I attended the Divine Liturgy at St. Barbara's Orthodox Church, and found it very moving. I didn't kiss the face of God as others did, or light a candle, but I felt blessed. It was enough to know that there is Love, despite human failings to define it.

The liturgy was written by Saint John Chrysostom, a 4th century Greek theologian who is famous on one hand for his eloquence and humility, but on the other for chastising early Christians who felt moved to practice Jewish traditions. He wanted a complete separation between people who felt unified in worshiping God despite theological differences.

While Chrysostom wrote beautiful liturgy, in other writings he called Jews "pigs" and "drunkards." The anti-Jewish tone that he helped institutionalize in Church theology, which was based on his interpretations of the Gospels, is deeply regrettable. Perhaps he needed his own words as much (or more) than anyone else:

...forgive me everything wherein I have offended you every day of my life.

The mystical love of God expressed through the Eucharist is the focus of Orthodox Christian worship, as is a petition for God's mercy. Ironically, the liturgy seemed very Jewish in some ways: not the words so much as the structure, and the running theme of awe in response to God's love. When the blood of Christ (communion wine) was paraded around the sanctuary, I thought of how the Torah is paraded in synagogues around the world.

The Orthodox prayer for forgiveness and the repeated "kyrie eleisons" (Lord have mercy), which I found so touching today remind me of a poem from the beloved Russian poet Anna Akhmatova:

Forgive me that I ignored the sun, and that I lived in sorrow.
Forgive, forgive, that I mistook too many others for you.

I've loved that poem since I found it in college, and have always considered it a prayer.

Perhaps the most moving part of the service was when the Father called for parishioners from other parts of the world to recite loudly the Lord's Prayer, Jesus' adaptation of Jewish liturgical prayer for his followers, in their native languages. One at a time, the prayer was repeated over and over in Greek, Church Slavonic, Russian, Ukranian, Spanish, Arabic, French and English.

After the service today, I took in a long run -- one in which my legs were aching severely by the end. I started visualizing myself as running a monk's run, which had something in my mind to do with complete surrender. To what, exactly, I wasn't sure, but that wasn't the point. All that seemed to matter was becoming worthy of that which I was doing, and of the gift of my body, and the health that running brings. Saint John may have understood this desire when he wrote,

...make me worthy of the grace.