The Dormition of the Mother of God

Metropolitan Anthony Bloom - 2 September 1990

In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

We are still in the light of the Feast of the Falling asleep of the Mother of God. On Wednesday we are keeping the last day of this Feast which in the calendar is called the ‘Take-leaving’ and which, if we translate the words properly from the Slavonic mean the ‘Handing-over’.

This feast, the event occurred on earth; the Mother of God died; She fell asleep. In the Old Testament, the death of the person was something frightening because all mankind that had been separated from God through the sin of man, in death found itself also in a certain separation from God. It was not the glorious union for which we long, it was a (time) when the righteous enjoyed peace, rest, and the evil were separated from God, but there was no union between man and God. It is only the death of Christ upon the Gross, in an act of perfect Divine love, but also in an act of human acceptance of the Divine Will, readiness, and indeed actual fulfilling of our salvation in the tragedy of His bodily human death and His soul's descent into hell and (finally) His resurrection that broke this tragic separation.

Now, after His Resurrection, those who die, by the power of His resurrection, in the glory of His love could enter into that communion with God which will be fulfilled at the end of times, as expressed by Saint Peter, as our partakers of the very Divine (?) nature.

And the death, the falling asleep of the Mother of God, and also, as we believe according to Orthodox Tradition, in Her bodily resurrection, shows us that all things are truly fulfilled by Christ — truly: She fell asleep, the sleep of all those who live on earth and come to a time when they can no longer reach out into eternity without breaking the bonds of the earth. But She Who (?) Her purity, Her faith, Her total gift of self to God have made the Incarnation possible could not be held, even bodily in the (bonds) of death; She rose again by the power of the Only Begotten Son Whom She had (made?) the Son of Man.

So it is not only that we are promised eternal life in the resurrection; it is not only that we see it enacted in Christ; we (might?) say — Yes: what is true for Christ, can it be true for us?.. — but we see it happening in one of us, in the Holiest of us perhaps, certainly — but in o n e o f u s, The Mother of God fell asleep — (to ?) and rose again.

And this ‘handing-over' of the event to God is, as it were, a promise to us; it happened on earth; it was with us all the time; but we cannot yet live in a full communion with this wonderful event of eternal life breaking the fetters of our human, earthly existence. It is handed over to God as a promise: what happened to Her, we can look at it with the certainty that it is also our destiny in the future. And so, we are not simply ‘taking leave’ of a wonderful event: it is put into the eternity of God for us to (meet in it’s own time).

But the parable which was read today warns us that we must to watchful, that we must be faithful, that we must be truly human in order to become truly partakers of the Divine nature. In times past the prophets came, the witnesses of God came — they were rejected, murdered, stoned; we don't murder, we don’t stone, but we turn a deaf ear to Christ speaking in the Gospel, to the testimony of Saints; or we accept them with joy for one moment, but then, we do not carry (it across) long enough, determinably enough. And when we hear Christ speak, we don't murder Him as the Jews did in the days of His flesh; but we turn away, and we are on our own ways. Unless we turn back to God, unless we learn like the Mother of God live i n God, and allow G o d to live in us, we remain strangers (?) to the mystery of the Assumption of the Mother of God, both Her death in purity, in total, final surrender to God, and Her resurrection which is a return to the fullness which She possessed in Him.

Let us reflect on it, and let us wait with hope for the time when we can say not only in faith, but in experience as Paul said it, that death is not divesting ourselves from life temporal: it is clothing ourselves with eternity.

Amen.

(source)

On baby steps and God's care

One of my major concerns related to going back to work was missing out. The thought of not being there for the girls' "first of" tore me apart.

This Saturday we were all at home (which is quite unusual, because Mr.Husband usually sings at baptisms and weddings at our church, but nothing was scheduled for that day). Curly (our 3 year old) was sleeping, so I was enjoying a (mostly) uninterrupted conversation with my husband, which is also a pretty rare thing when you have 2 kids and work full-time :))

I was sitting on the floor, with Cupcake on my lap, totally engaged in conversation, when she got up and walked across the room to the bed, to get her blankie. She had been cruising and standing for some time, but had never actually walked before. And we were both there to see it!

So this got me thinking about God'scare for us, which is shown even in the smallest things of everyday life.

Photo credit

On princesses and other demons

I was never the girly type. I grew up with my cousins, all boys. My mom never paid too much attention to girly things, she was too busy working to support our family, so the only times when I saw her wearing make-up (at some family weddings) I thought she looked really fake in a "who are you and what have you done to my mom" kind of way. Most of the women in my extended family (my mom has 7 sisters) are widowers (my mom included), so they had to be the strong ones, the head of the family, the man and the woman at the same time. No time for make-up and nail polish.

Plus I was the chubby kid growing up. And when that happens, it's easier to hide in extra-large hockey shirts and baggy pants (remember the Backstreet Boys?) then trying to fit into tank tops (remember Britney Spears?) and miniskirts. Thank God! that saved me a lot of trouble in my teens and protected me in ways that I haven't even begun to fully understand (even though at that time it seemed downright tragic). 

However, I am still struggling to come to terms with the feminine side of exterior life. Like make-up for work, choosing and (ugh!) buying clothes (I definitely hate shopping for clothes), mixing and matching shoes and purses and jewelry (I think it would be easier for me to learn quantic physics). I've been on maternity leave for some years now, which means I could easily have worn pyjamas for breakfast, lunch and dinner (I chose not to, though – most of the times :) ) So now things just got a bit tough and I was somewhat forced to girlyness/womanhood: are there more types of mascara? That many?? I'm not sure if I want my eyelashes longer or thicker… Nude shoes go with everything, but brown shoes don’t match anything? 

And that's just scratching the surface…

But things get tricky when you have two girls. How can you even begin to be a model for them if you are lost yourself? (This is true in general, in every aspect of live, but I will limit the scope to all things girly for now). 

My eldest is three and recently started the Princess stage (isn't it too early, though? Since she doesn't watch TV and only likes Masha and Medved, but I guess we have some princess books around the house – I suspect that's where she got all her pink and sparkling ideas :) )

Now my dilemma is: for sure, I wish they could be comfortable and embrace being a girl and (later) a woman (not try to hide from it, like I have always done), but at the same time I hope they won't get into the "laughing plastic" stage either. I would like them to understand that being a princess/a girl/woman is more than wearing a dress and a necklace. 

I get a headache when I hear her with "Mom, but I can't wear blue slippers! I'm a girl!". The first impulse is to yell at her "being a girl does not only mean wearing prink slippers!". But I realize that she's a three year old and the problem is actually facing myself. Facing the person who is always awkward and rough round the edges, especially at more "polished" events or meetings. The person who lacks delicacy in gestures or posture (rather than in feelings). The person who is never lady-like, the person who does not possess that quelque-chose that makes girls and women feminine.

So, what do I do now, with two girls on my hands?

On work and the will of God

One month of being back at the office. One month of our daughters (11 months, 3 years) staying at home (or in the park, in sunny but not torrid days) with their dad. One month of trying to adapt to a new schedule, to a new way of life. One month of searching.

It was very difficult for me to digest the idea of going back to work. I was surrounded by virtual examples of moms with 3-5 kids who were able to work at home and support their families, while homeschooling, baking and doing Pinterest-worthy crafts and that somehow drew me into the mirage that it was possible for us too. I was at that point in which I was wondering why going back to work was allowed to happen at all – if my purpose in life is to stay at home and look after my family.

It did not occurred to me that, in OUR situation, at THIS POINT in our life, this wasn't possible. Maybe it will be at some point in the future, maybe it won't. I'm not able to know what would be best for us. But I am able (though it is really tough sometimes) to trust God that He knows best. And that He will lead us on our way. As one of our archbishops used to say all the time that we need to do our best, wherever God places us – be it at work, or at home, or at school, etc.





"On the will of God by Saint Silouan
 

It is a great good to give oneself up to the will of God. Then the Lord alone is in the soul. No other thought can enter in, and the soul feels God's love, even though the body be suffering.

The proud man does not want to live according to God's will: he likes to be his own master and does not see that man has not wisdom enough to guide himself without God. And I, when I lived in the world, knew not the Lord and His Holy Spirit, nor how the Lord loves us—I relied on my own understanding; but when by the Holy Spirit I came to know our Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, my soul submitted to God, and now I accept every affliction that befalls me, and say: "The Lord looks down on me. What is there to fear?" But before, I could not live in this manner.

Life is much easier for the man who is given over to the will of God, since in illness, in poverty, in persecution he reflects thus: "Such is God's pleasure, and I must endure on account of my sins." " (full text here).

Saint Silouan, pray for us, sinners!

On Matryoshkas and going bonkers

The girls received a Matryoshka doll from granny. It’s a Russian nesting doll. Really nice and colourful toys, but chokable. Highly chokable, especially when you have a 9-month old crawling around, sticking everything in her mouth (but who mysteriously cannot manage to find her mouth when it comes to eating real food). Anyways.



So my eldest was playing with the matryoshkas, trying to figure out how to stack them. I’m hovering like a hawk, to make sure the youngest doesn’t get her hands (and mouth) on them. At some point, No.1 starts playing “supermarket” and brings the dolls to me (at the computer/cash register), to check them out so she can pay them. She brings the first two dolls, the tiniest. I beep them on my fake cash register, she takes the dolls and, for a half a second, I turn my eyes away.

And they are GONE. The teeny tiny wooden-peanut of a doll is gone. Her bigger sister too (bigger, so to speak – it’s about the size of a slightly larger cherry). Two choking hazards are AWOL and I cannot see them anywhere. I freeze.

“Honey, where are the two dolls that were just here a second ago? The ones I asked you not to let out of your sight?”
“Mmmmmm, dunno” (thinking really hard)
“Honey, they were just here. You took them from the desk and then…”
“Well, I don’t know”
“Did you take them anywhere”
“I can’t remember” (rubbing her chin)

I’m starting to boil. Where in the world are they???? How hard can it be???

“Honey, they were here, you took them and now they’re gone. Come on, help me find them”
“Ok, let’s find the dolls”. She takes her hide-and-seek tone (the mommy-go-hind-behind-the-curtain-and-i’ll-find-you tone). “Are the dolls here, in the potty? Noooooo. Are they here, in this book? No, mommy, they’re not here.”

Steam is already bursting out of my ears. Yes, she’s as cute as it gets, but I just want the two wooden fugitives locked back into the biggest matryoshka and out of the baby’s way.

So I try to cool down and try again.

“Honey, can you please focus and try to remember where the dolls are?”
“Oh, I remember! (index finger straight in the air, Sherlock look on her face). They are here, in the matyoshka drawer” and she points to thin air, giggling.

Arghhhhh, silly silly pretend play! Sure, it’s useful when your kid wants to go on a boat trip and all you have is a cardboard box and a broomstick. But when you don’t need the pretend-matryoshka from the pretend-matryoshka drawer, it’s not so fun anymore.

So we’re back to the drawing board. We have to do this the hard way. Half an hour later, after taking apart every piece of furniture in the room, I found the two silly dolls hiding behind some books. I’m still not sure how they got there, but I locked them up tight where they belong.

Love languages

I read about the 5 love languages some time ago, but I was not fully convinced about the whole theory until a couple of days ago, after a talk with my mom.

It went something like this:

“You know I’ve given you all I could until now and I’ll do my best to send you money in the future.”

For me, it was never about the money. It’s been quite some time since I’ve started to support myself financially and since I’ve started feeling that I do not want her to send me money anymore, because I was all grown up (married and two kids = pretty grown up, if you ask me).

I was getting more and more frustrated as she continued. At the point when my inside voice was almost yelling “I don’t need your money, I just want you to hug me and tell me you’re proud of me” it struck me: maybe my mom’s way of expressing love might be very different from my own. I took a step back, calmed down and started to pay attention.

Come to think of it, ever since I can remember, my mom was always running small (or larger) errands for family and friends: baking cakes, cooking for weddings, babysitting, sewing, cleaning, you name it. She was always restless if she could not express herself by doing something for the people she cared about, until she was exhausted.

It started to make sense why she would get angry if I said I didn’t need her to send me more food, more stuff, that I did not want her to work more for me, to bake for hours on end and to exhaust herself to give/send me something. Why we would always get into fights about the fact that she had no limits in the amount of food and groceries she would send when I was pregnant with our first baby. It still wasn’t clear to me that she would get really upset when we did not let her express her love for us in the only way she knew how: by acts of service.

The other day we had a conversation that sealed it for me:
“Do you need me send you some food? So you won’t have to cook?”
“No, thanks, I actually love spending time in the kitchen and there are some new recipes I want to try anyway.”
“OK. Maybe I should send you some cash instead. “
“We’re good, thanks!”
“Listen, are you upset with me?”
I started laughing. This time I was prepared.
“No, mom, we just don’t need food or money. But how about you sew us those curtains we’ve been talking about? The ones for the family room?”
Her voice became cheerful again.
“Sure thing, I’ll get right on that. And while I’m at it, I think I’ll knit some scarves for the girls.”

Needless to say, our daughters do not need any new scarves, but what can I do?