This is Life!: Revolutions Around the Cruciform Axis

Sunday of the Holy Forefathers

After a two-week absence, Anna, Sofie and I worshipped again at All Saints. It was a normal Sunday in Advent, though during Sunday School we had an extraordinary presentation on Fr. Alexander Schmemann, honoring the twentieth anniversary of his repose. Our presenter, one of the members of the parish, is a former student of Fr. Schmemann, so we had some wonderful personal glimpses into the life of this wonderful man of God.

Sofie, out of the norm, stayed awake during the whole service. At one point, I was holding her (during the Procession of the Holy Gifts and through the Nicene Creed), and noticed that she was looking at the ceiling and smiling and making faces. Sofie is almost always attentive to bright lights and colors, but the lamps in the nave are far from bright, even when on full blast, and during the Liturgy are dimmed somewhat. Too, the ceiling is just blank white. But there she was interacting with . . . something.

Now I have always had a suspicion--I won't even call it a pious opinion, let alone a theological conviction--that children have an ability to see things we adults do not. I couldn't help but wonder, seeing Sofie's facial expressions, if it weren't the case that she was talking to the saints and angels who were present with us worshipping at the Throne of God. I suspect I'll never know. But it brought home the reality of what it is we do in the Liturgy, and where we are.

On a related note, Anna and I have made the decision to go to one income--as it were--so that she can devote herself fulltime to her vocation of motherhood. It's a crazy thing to do, what with me working part-time at the library and teaching part-time, and going to school. It's not as though we're flush with cash anyway. But this conviction that Anna should, as she desires, stay home to care for our daughter (and subsequent children) is something we both brought into our marriage more than a decade ago. So, insane or not, we have decided that, in Camus' terms, we would cease to "live by cheating," and fully own our convictions by our actions.

But here's the darndest thing. Out of nowhere, as Anna and I were discussing this again (for the umpteenth time), my lovely wife says, "That way we can be more involved at the church."

We serve a most loving and merciful God!