Oh hello, lonely bloggy.

This blog is unkempt for many reasons, but I believe the main one is that I am not sure for whom it exists. It's not exactly public because nobody reads it unless I wave my hands around on facebook and sort of awkwardly announce that I've done it, I've written something on my blog. Neither is it exactly private because I keep hoping someone will want to be my blog friend, and we'll write wonderful long posts with the awareness that the other person is reading, and be inspired by each other's work and talk about deep and important things. Therefore I haven't set it to private so I can get down to the business of writing lots of personal stuff, therefore I'm too scared to actually write anything, therefore I don't, therefore nobody reads my blog. So Facebook ends up devouring most of my genius because I know exactly who is going to read what I write there: everybody. Oh well.

Various things that have happened since last she wrote:

* A child was born. Not unto my husband and me, but unto my husband's sister, CA, who is my beloved friend and our matchmaker. The baby's name is Lincoln, and true to the Paul Simon chanson, he was born in the boredom and the chowder; that is, he was born in the heavy, sweet, Maine summer on the most auspicious date of July 7. We spent a week or so cupping him firmly to our chests and hogging him before we had to get back to Indiana. Now we yearn to see our nephew at Christmas. We talk to CA on the phone of course but it is hard to communicate with a baby that way.

*Before that happened, we finished a year as teachers in a lovely rag-tag little school which I am tired of explaining. After that happened, we started another year. It appears we won't be as sad and tired this year, Lord willing, since we're only teaching five classes each and not seven. I'm very excited about all of my classes; in fact I'm almost too excited, because I'm tempted to do a lot of my own study in all of these areas. If I were teaching three or four classes rather than five, the six hours I spent last night (a Friday!) reading Euler's Elements of Algebra and criticism of it would be time well spent, because maybe I could continue to go into it deeply enough to do something about it in my Pre-Algebra class. But really, I could do that with any of the classes I'm teaching, and at any given time I might be listing towards doing that with one or the other. Perhaps I should devote my creative energy to the Art curriculum, as that is the least structured and developed. My freedom to choose and create my curriculum is almost unlimited, and it is an exercise in patience to sternly impose boundaries on myself. 

*Oh, I've read several books. A conversation with a fellow student of iconography one night at the monastery prompted me to check out The Life and Works of Father Seraphim Rose from the church library, and I devoured it like a Harry Potter novel. It seems to me that a lot of Orthodox converts dismiss him once they've gotten to the "being annoyed with other, newer converts" stage, which is where one usually is possessed with the zeal (perhaps not the strength) to do something like read all of the St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood Press's Elders of Optina series. But I, on the other hand, have triumphantly progressed to the NEXT stage of convert zeal where I say, "No! Don't make fun of stage 1! Instead, become irritated with the second stage of convert zeal and defend stage 1!" I'm not sure what stage 4 is. But anyway I'm tired of tiptoeing around, not getting excited about anything because only new converts do that. I'm excited about many things that Fr. Seraphim Rose said, one of which is the importance of reading the Lives of the Saints. I promptly read the Life of New Martyr Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna of Russia and it was awesome. I have started the Life of Father Leonid of Optina and it is less interesting but I'm going to try to finish it.

I'm also under the spell of Sigrid Undset's quartet, The Master of Hestviken.

*I've gotten in several Facebook debates and certainly alienated some people. It weighs quite heavily on me and I think much evil has come of it, but I also believe I've learned a lot from these conversations. Mostly they occur because I'm irritated with the dang certainty with which everyone states their beliefs as fact, whether I agree with them or not. So it's made me a bit more careful about when I'm stating what I believe to be a fact, when I'm making a judgement based on my faith or other biases, and when I'm speculating. But no matter how careful one is about clarifying in which way one is speaking, if the idea proposed is odious to someone else, one is sure to get an earful. But I am usually drawn into some kind of argument and  I end up having much to apologize for.

*Nothing much else that needs to be recorded. I just wanted to check in and feel comfortable with popping in next time I had something interesting to think about in front of a vague audience.

Two books recently read

This weekend marks a milestone in our career as adults: we got the internet. I mean, we got it, like we called the company and they came out and now we have to pay for it each month and we have our own password, which Matt set up so I have no idea what it is.

I think such a momentous occasion deserves a blog post.

This is what I'm reading and have recently read.

On the Divine Incarnation by St. Athanasius

I don't know how I snuck through an Orthodox catechism (albeit a hasty one) without being handed this little book. Oddly enough, I had read the introduction in another anthology; I had previously snorted at C.S. Lewis' essay on reading "old books," not because I disliked it, but because it goes so obviously unheeded by C.S. Lewis aficianados. If you read Plato you could have interesting thoughts too! He was clearly a brilliant man and a fine writer with a sensitive yet manful moral and aesthetic sense, and God knows how many times I've quivered in ecstasy thanks to the Chronicles of Narnia, but as the juxtaposition of Lewis' essay with St. Athanasius' treatise shows (and as "Jacksie" would leap to affirm,) he ain't Athanasius. In fact I had completely forgotten that he introduced the treatise until I started writing this post. That's how powerful, clear, and thrilling is St. Athanasius' defense of the necessity of the Incarnation of Christ. I was particularly struck by his formulation of "The Divine Dilemma:"

It would, of course, have been unthinkable that God should go back upon His word and that man, having transgressed, should not die; but it was equally monstrous that beings which once had shared the nature of the Word should perish and turn back again into non-existence through corruption... You might ... argue that, as through the Transgression [men] became subject to corruption, so through repentance they might return to incorruption again. But repentance would not guard the Divine consistency, for, if death did not hold dominion over men, God would still remain untrue. Nor does repentance recall men from what is according to their nature; al that it does is to make them cease from sinning... [Christ's] part it was, and His alone, both to bring again the corruptible to incorruption and to maintain for the Father His consistency of character with all. [On The Divine Incarnation, Chapter II, Section 7]

What error did it correct in my thinking? I think I was afflicted more with laziness than outright error on this doctrinal point. I suppose I had asked myself, rather cautiously, "Why did Jesus have to die? Why did not God show his usual mercy to us and forgive us?" Being basically convinced that it was somehow necessary, and important, that Christ was Incarnate of a Virgin, was crucified for us by Pontius Pilate, suffered and was buried, and on the third day rose again according to the Scriptures, because I affirm that this is what happened, I did not sit long with the uncertainty as to why all this was necessary. I did not seek to replace my vague Bible study answers ("We could never repay our debt to God, so Christ did, because He had more... something!") with more muscular Patristic proofs, probably because I was busy freaking out about Kierkegaard and/or drinking.

Well, now it's clear. We were in a qualitative, not quantitative quandary, in that we had descended into corruption. As God promised, "we must surely die." If He simply waved a divine wand and bestowed life to us again, restoring us to Paradise, He would have contradicted Himself. However, His great love for us would not allow us to languish in the darkness as blind worms for long; the Word became flesh, submitted to crucifixion as the Word in flesh, and overthrew Death as the Word in flesh. The problem consisted in our corruption, God's consistency, and His desire for communion with us; in his Incarnation, Death and Resurrection, Christ maintained God's consistency while restoring us to incorruption.

That was the most basic and crucial lesson which St. Athanasius taught me; however the rest of the treatise, exploring the details of the Incarnation and defending its absolute doctrinal necessity and truth to both Jews and Greek philosophers, was also fascinating, and I'm sure I'll be returning to it to shore up my understanding of this great mystery.

More Spirited Than Lions by Sarah Cowie

There are about seven different women to whom I want to make a gift of this book. The author, an Orthodox woman who was once a committed feminist, bookends her work with the story of marvelous Nuns of Shamordino who humbly and resolutely refused to "work for Satan" in a Soviet camp. She gives a fairly detailed history of the feminist movement and a brief "Feminist Catechism." She then systematically dissembles the major feminist arguments on a merely logical level before outlining the Orthodox ideal for the role of the woman in the familial, social and religious order, supported by the Fathers and Scripture.

I have always wrinkled my nose at the Sexual Revolution, felt physically nauseated by the idea of abortion, and made to feel anywhere from vaguely to explicitly uncomfortable while perusing Ms. in the nurse's waiting room in college. I had never attempted a systematic critique of feminism for myself, because it seemed too loose a phrase, and because most of my friends self-identify as feminists. More Spirited Than Lions helped me to clarify and solidify my understanding of and opposition to the feminist "movement." Without quoting large chunks of text (because I devoured this book too quickly to pick up a pen and mark my favourite passages,) here are two of the ideas that I have been mulling over since my reading of MSTL:

• Feminism (specifically second and third wave) depends on a Marxist abstraction of individuals into an aggregate; thus one can claim that women are and always have been categorically and systematically oppressed by men. This doesn't exactly equate to saying "Each and every individual woman has been oppressed by individual men or a man," or "Each and every individual man oppresses individual women." If I remembered my Marx better, I'd be able to say what it exactly equates to, but it's something more vaguely Hegelian, like "The Master (Man) seeks to determinately negate The Bondsman (Woman)." The result is that any individual woman who timidly raises her hand and says "I don't feel like I am systematically and categorically oppressed by men," is assumed to be stupid, or brainwashed by The Man. "You think you aren't being oppressed, but that's what he wants you to think!" Presumption is an inherent attitude of Marxism/feminism.
• Adam and Eve both sinned when presented with temptation, but each of them sinned in a different way. Eve ate the forbidden fruit because she wanted to be like God. Her sin, or disease, was Pride. Adam ate the fruit to go along with Eve, perhaps because he was not interested in thinking the problem through, or because he did not want to make things uncomfortable. His disease was Sloth. Therefore, God prescribed different cures for the two infirm sinners. The cure for Adam's Sloth was to pour his sweat and blood into the ground in order to survive. The cure for Eve's Pride was to bear children and to submit to her husband, as she had failed to submit to God. Every man and woman is afflicted with the same disease as his or her respective Parent, and each of us must submit to the same treatment if we hope to be cured. (How clearly I manifest symptoms of this specifically feminine disease! It runs in the family; my mother and all my sisters have it too. We certainly do not suffer from that boyish affliction of Sloth; but this itself is a point of Pride. Quickly false-martyr-Martha rises up to protest other people's laziness; but "only one thing is needful.")

Okay, that's enough for now; my husband wants me to make him some food.

In the future maybe I'll post about:

• Middlemarch
• Father Arseny
• Being As Communion
• Brideshead Revisited

LASAGNA

I announced that I was going to make lasagna, and my father demanded eggplant simultaneous with my sister's request for zucchini. I had just planned to make a chunky garden sauce and use pasta. So I compromised.

I was pretty paranoid about noodles floating in the water from the zukes and eggplant. I hate a soggy lasagna. I like the salt and drain method for eggplants, but I think it works better for chunks, and I wanted coins. So I did salt and drain both the eggplant and zucchini coins, but I also nervously threw them in a 450 degree oven for 5 or 7 minutes to dry them out.

I also drained the ricotta cheese and discarded about 1/2 cup of water. I don't think it hurts.

Then I started worrying that the lasagne would actually be too dry. I used fresh tomatoes in my sauce, which cooked down impressively. I ended up with probably less than 3 cups of sauce, barely enough to dab each layer of noodles. But in the end, I think there was enough moisture left in the eggplants and zucchini to make up for the skimpy sauce. Served with crusty bread and herbed olive oil, it made everybody happy. So they told me.

I did not salt the sauce at all, because the zucchini and eggplant are quite salty. Since I did not make enough sauce, I will put the quantities that I actually used in parentheses, followed by the quantity I plan to use next time.

This fills one 9x13 pan and one 10x15 pan.

VEG-HEAVY SUMMER LASAGNA

1-2 tablespoons olive oil

(1) 2 onions, chopped or diced

4-5 cloves garlic

2 big carrots in thin coins or diced

1 red bell pepper, chopped or diced

3-4 spicy or banana peppers, chopped or diced

(6) 10 ripe, fresh tomatoes, chopped, juice saved

sugar, pepper, red pepper flakes, basil, oregano, thyme, parsley to taste

Optional: up to 1 cup red wine

4 small eggplants, in thin coins

2 big zucchini, in thin coins

1 lb lasagne noodles

16 oz ricotta cheese

2-3 cups mozzarella cheese

2 egg yolks

Begin by placing the sliced eggplants and zucchini in separate colanders, and sprinkling each with about 2 tablespoons kosher salt. Squish them around with your hands so that the salt is evenly spread out. You can also start the ricotta draining if you wish. Leave this stuff alone while you make the sauce.

To make sauce:

Saute onions and garlic in olive oil at medium-high heat until soft. Season with herbs and pepper. Reduce heat to medium, add carrots and peppers, and cook until soft. If desired, slosh in some red wine, let it cook off, repeat. Add tomatoes and reduce heat to low. Add sugar to taste. Let the sauce simmer and thicken for about half an hour.

During that time, check the zucchini and eggplant. You can wring the water out with a large dish towel, or you can spread them out on pans and put them in a very hot oven (450) for 5-7 minutes.

Cook the lasagna until al dente, and rinse in cold water.

Mix egg yolks, ricotta, and 1 cup of the mozzarella. You might season with pepper or nutmeg.

When the sauce doesn't have any water sitting on top of it, layer the lasagna like so-- sauce, zucchini, eggplant, cheese, noodles. Probably only two of these sequences will fit in your pan. End with sauce on top of the noodles, and spread the rest of the mozzarella cheese on top. Bake at 400 for 25 minutes or until the cheese is good and bubbly. Remove from oven and let set 5-10 minutes. Eat some bread. Eat the lasagna.

Axios!

Chicago wears spring very well, and it's lovely to be on the eastern side of a time-zone. We are visiting our friends in Chicago before we head to Maine for the summer.

A beautiful perk of timing: We shouted "Axios!" as Bishop Matthias was consecrated as Bishop of Chicago and All the Midwest on Bright Saturday. Metropolitan Jonah and the entire Synod of Bishops celebrated hierarchical liturgies on Saturday and Thomas Sunday. The consecration occurred at Christ the Savior, which was our parish while we lived in Chicago. The church building originally belonged to some Scottish branch of the Anglican Church. Inside, the ceiling is high and angular, covered in dark, dark wood, scallops and spikes. Huge panels of icons brighten almost every wall, and Christ, effusing light, triumphantly crowns the tall ikonostasis. Somehow he seems to float in continuous theophany over everything that occurs below. It is hard to take your eyes off of him. He is always raising himself.

On Saturday, Christ the Savior was stuffed with clergy and laity, and topped off with many bishops. Crowns glittered constantly. Two choirs filled the air above the crowd.

On Thomas Sunday, the liturgy was held at Holy Trinity Cathedral, which was designed by St. John Kochurov and architect Louis Sullivan. I don't know enough about architecture to describe it well so here is a wikipedia article. If it is possible for a building to feel grandiose and intimate at the same time, this church does. The ikonostasis appears impenetrable. I could not imagine anyone coming in or going out of it until I saw it occur.

This liturgy was not as crowded as Saturday's. We were right next to the Metropolitan as his attendants took care to vest him for the liturgy. His homily was simple and thoughtful. Afterwards, there was a Ukrainian feast, but we got pizza instead.

Also sparkling this weekend: The heir to Britain's throne was wed. I only watched 60 seconds of highlights from the wedding, but the royal couple were on my mind during all of the hierarchical hullabaloo of the weekend. My family feels some warmth of pride in our (ignominious) Scottish name, just enough to raise our eyebrows interestedly at things Brittanic, and to twist our lips bitterly in memory of a long-legged king. That's probably making too much of it. Anyway, I do give a fig about the Crown.

But I give more figs about the crown that was set on an old monk's head this weekend. Britain evokes in me faint stirrings of blood-pride, and the John Adams HBO miniseries might have squeezed a few tears out of me. I do have ties to nations of this world, and sometimes I am awed by earthly power, and dazzled by human splendor. But all of this fades. The rulers of this world govern the fate of my body, but the man who was crowned this weekend is the despot to whom God will listen. Whatever he looses or binds on earth will be loosed or bound in heaven also, and this is the kingdom to which I belong.

"Why seek ye the living among the dead?" "Yeah, why would you do that?"

I celebrated this Pascha at St. Stephen's in Crawfordsville, my hometown, with all of my siblings, my husband, and many people dear to me from my childhood. First time all around, since I have always celebrated Pascha at St. Juliana's in Santa Fe, away from my family, and I have never been married to my husband before.

Somehow this Lent was harder than ever. Part of this might be due to my spiritual laziness in College. This year, nothing distracted me as much as school always did, so it was necessary to confront my noetic flab. At school, it's easy to forget the fast and just get drunk after class with your friends ("Totally vegan!"), or haughtily distance yourself from everyone else when you actually do happen to keep the physical fast. Here at home, living with my family, who are God-fearing but not fast-keeping, the retreat from human warmth was more painful. I could not ignore them, and my grumpiness and holier-than-thou attitude hurt others more.

Being married also made it quite different. Partnership is beautiful, but it is a fearful thing to bind your salvation to someone else's. I don't always want to pray, and neither does he. It's rare that we want to do it at the same time, and difficult to broach the subject without feeling like a nag. It's hard enough to clearly see my relation to God. Adding a third body makes the equation exponentially more complex.

But:

"... the more there are there who say 'ours',

so much the more of good is owned by each.

...the more souls, hearts set on high, there be,

more are there to love well and more are loved:

and mirror-like, they give back mutually."

Two-body problem is graceful, three body problem is real.

So, Lent was hard. My stomach kept the fast but my heart did not. I did not repent "enough". When I glimpsed (but never grasped) repentance, it hurt too much, and I conveniently let my mind wander from the gruesome sight. I sold Christ many times over, and I did not even go out and weep bitterly.

But... but... you know how the story ends, and then begins, and then goes on forever. Wake up!

Lent-ILL soup

I'm waiting for my mom to come home with peppers and cilantro so that I can make chutney for this incredible soup (with the first sprigs of mint from underneath the kitchen window!). 2 med onions, finely chopped 3 cloves garlic, minced sautee until soft as you like, 5-10 minutes and then add: 1 1/2 tsp dried thyme (or 3 Tbsp fresh) 1/2 tsp cayenne (I used paprika) 2 tsp turmeric a dash of ground coriander reduce heat and fry for a few minutes. then add: 3 cans of veggie stock (6 cups) 1 bag of green lentils, soaked overnight simmer 20-30 minutes until tender. separately, fry over medium heat: 1/2 tsp ground cardamom 1/4 tsp ground cinnamon 1/4 tsp ground cloves 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg cracked black peppa to taste! add above stuff to soup, stir and add: 1 can of coconut milk simmer 15 minutes or so until everything is as smushy and friendly as you like. I've only had a couple bites of it so far, and let me tell you, it should not be this good. Soon enough I'll make the Vegetarian Epicure's Green Chile-Mint Chutney, which is pretty explosive. Wish I had thought ahead to make naan. Brown rice is a-cookin', and the microwave is parturient with acorn squash.