Home Again :)

John Denver Land

We made it to COlorado. Pete woke up early and drove while i laid in the back and slept. Oh, the poncho myth proved true. The van is now filled with "indian" things (aka cheap Mexican Products). We dropped about a hundred each. (Yes creen i did get you turquoise :) ) I think it was the only thing that was actually made by the native peoples. But it was really cool, very nice people. We drove through the petrified forest and then got back on the i-40. Oh ya, our beloved Barnes and Nobel in Flagstaff tried to tow us. We made it all night but in the morning at about 7 they called out the big guns. I woke up to the sound of a BIG truck next to us. The guy was writing something on a clip board and it took me a second to realize what he was doing. I got up, walked to the driver seat in my boxers, started the car and drove off. No words, i think my appearance and the quick glimpse of the interior of the van was enough to make him realize we cant afford to get towed. SO we drove out of Flagstaff feeling like a bunch of criminals and drove to Las Vaegas( not the real Las Vegas but the one in New Mexico). Then pete drove early to Pueblo and now were in his Sister's house. SO we'll be here for a while and then we're homeward bound. I miss AK. The Rockies got nothing on us:)

hello

Hello. It’s been a while since my last post, but I ll try to make up for it. Lets see, I don’t think I’ve posted since Platina and to tell you the truth I really cant remember all that’s happened. I think peter has posted but I haven’t had a chance to look. Im sure if he did he properly supplied you with a poetic version of all the events. So ill try something new and use good old bullets to rush through some of the stuff and say a little something about each:
• Platina monastery- It was an incredibly peaceful place, and a great retreat, but I was ready to go. I felt strangely out of place, lets just say I don’t think I ll be a monk any time soon.
• Fr. Steven’s in Sacramento- Great, great, great, people. I could go on and on about how kind and hospitable they were, but it would take pages. We saw Stasia and Mat and Mary.
• West to San Francisco- We met up with a fr. James at the old church of St. John of San Fran. He a was a great person and we ended up spending the whole day with him. We had a good meal and then drove over to St. Tikons to see St. J’s cell. It was an amazing experience. We wandered around china town the next day and did all the things your suppose to do in SF : Golden gate bridge, Lombard st., Chinatown, the wharf, and sourdough. It was cool. Oh ya, and pete got in a fender bender. It sufficiently shaken but after we reassured him we don’t give a hoot what the van looks like and as long as the other guy was cool about it, we don’t care. He wasnt actually that mad, just irritated. The San Fran streets are mad! We drove to St. Timothy’s in the morning and went to liturgy there. We also saw “The Green Lantern” at the local theater. If your thinking about going and seeing it, don’t. It was like every other “super” movie I have seen except everything was green.
• Drove north to St. John Monastery in Manton- It was one of the highlights of the trip. We were pleasantly greeted with Greek coffee and Turkish delight. I felt almost like Edmond except instead of an evil queen, it was very kind monks giving me the TD. We loved it so much we stayed an extra night ( after much positive pressure from father N) We were all very happy we stayed and spent more time with the monks. It is hard to tell how purely kind and open they were. There was nothing shallow about their hospitality, they just worked hard to make you as comfortable and welcome as they could. They all seemed to be happy and they all had a great sense of humor. As fr. Schmemman said, he never trusts an orthodox person without a sense of humor. We saw Brother Andrew (aka Ross Bell) and spent some time with him. We also spent time with Fr. Meletios , the abbot, and Father Nektarios . All three are great people. I cant stress this enough how welcoming they were.

I can see my plan to use bullets to keep things short didn’t work, but oh well : ) So at this point, being very “churched” out as we now call it , we left and drove south. We went to Yosemite yesterday just as it was getting dark. Great place, but over rated. I think it is a place for all the cali people who have never seen real mountains to go out into the “wild.” I mean, they got to put all their expensive gear to use some where. We all hiked up to the waterfall and stood in the mist with our shoes off. On our way out we passed a young guy goin up to do the same 10 minuet walk. He was decked out head to toe in Patagonia and north face. It was kind funny. Here we come looking like a gang of homeless people strait off the streets and this man is suited up in hundreds of dollars of gear. I felt like I didn’t belong in Yosemite. The same way whistler was fake, Yosemite had a little fakeness to it. But whatever floats their city boats, more power to em. This morning we woke up and drove through Vegas. It was just how I imagined and probably just how you imagine it, loud and big. We went to the largest gift shop in the world packed wall to wall with things that no one would ever need. Like any other kid would, I pushed a button on a “try me” doll I saw on one of the shelves. It proceeded to cuss me out about something to do with me being a terrible driver .As I found out the store was packed with these dolls that spewed offensive white trash slogans. It was still kinda funny though, to see what rock bottom society looked like. I fully expect pete to poetically criticize the “worldliness” of it all, so ill just leave that to him. My conclusion was this, I was glad to see it but I’ll never go back. We drove east to the Grand Canyon, and at the moment we are driving to flagstaff. The Grand Canyon was very beautiful. In a weird way, it looked like a painting, like I wasn’t really looking at the real thing. We are on our way to the promise land, aka Barnes and Noble. They have free wifi, clean bathrooms, and when you wander in still sleep drunk in the morning after sleeping in their parking lot, there is coffee. Great place this is. Oh, in other big news, I have given up chewing my nails. It is proving far harder then I thought. Im sure it is somewhat similar to quitting heroin, but I wouldn’t know. The only other person I have ever met that chewed their nails more then me was G barb. My fingers are on the fast track to looking like hers, nubby and round. Can you belive it, im so bored im talking about my fingernails! Often times blogs turn into people just spewing out personnel facts that nobody really cares about, and I feel as though ours is getting there : ) Next ill be rambling on about who knows what. So, on to new Mexico in the morning, after spending an unhealthy time in B and N mooching off their wifi. Hans claims that there are 5 dollar ponchos, and if this turns out to be true, expect to never see me in anything else. It don’t matter, church, work, school, it will be ponchos : ) Im gonna buy 100. Well here I go again rambling on about ponchos, so I think this is a sign I need to be done. oh and hi cindy!

Surpassing the Material

Well here I am overdue on my promise to update after our return from the monastery, it has been some time since then and much has passed. I did not feel capable of writing publicly but I will attempt to catch you on what has transpired. We arrived at the Brotherhood of St Herman at around three in the afternoon on monday the 13th. We had spent some time winding through the arid, tree dotted hills around Platina to find it. When we did we greeted the first monk we saw, He was tall though mildly stooped as if by a burden unseen, white haired and bearded, his face lined but clear, his eyes sharp and fierce but without malice. I was intimidated and yet felt assured of a calm kindness. He pointed us to the guest house where we were welcome to stay. I found out later that he was Fr. Hilarion, the Abbot. Everything here seemed without excess or guile. All had a feeling of tranquil grace, though hardened and without ease. This was clearly a place of great struggle but great reward. I felt as one who did not belong, no one made me feel unwelcome but I nonetheless felt as an intruder in this place peace. It was the darkness within me that could not comprehend the light. It was a feeling of conviction, as though this place were a mirror by which one can peer into his own soul. A cold shower later and I was in vespers after which was dinner. We were then given a tour of the monastery grounds, at the end of which we visited the cell in which Fr Seraphim Rose lived and worked. Again I cannot fully express the feeling of the place, it was as though all facade had been stripped away and by merely being there the facades of my self were also being peeled back. After compline I went to bed in anticipation of an early rise for matins and hours at 4:30am. I wrestled with sleep and many foolish thoughts all throughout the service, at the end of which we had a pleasant breakfast. By the time we returned to the guest house it was 8:30am and succumbing to my weariness I took a nap. Later in the afternoon we thanked Fr Hilarion and took our leave of the monastery. Though only one day was to short a time it nonetheless left me with a deep impact. And so we ventured on to Sacramento, my mind reeling and my mood introspective. In sacramento we visited the Howells and had a very pleasant time swimming, golfing and playing croquet. Many thanks Fr Steven, Sally and Jon! And have a safe rest of your trip Matthew, Stasia, Isaac, Mary and kids. Just yesterday it was then that we set our course for San Francisco and crossing the impressive Bay Bridge entered the city. My expectations were, as you may expect from my previous entries, not high. We went to the overcrowded "Fisherman's Wharf" to get some clam chowder and sourdough bread which we then ate on one of the piers for lunch. Alcatraz was not far in the distance and the Goldengate was hazily visible beyond, it was all very scenic with sailboats gliding lazily towards the horizon. We then wandered over to visit the famous sea lions, then through some various shops and past a second rate attention hungry entertainer. Don't get me wrong, it is a very nice city, probably my favorite so far but I had already had enough of the noisy crowds. So we set off to meet with the priest who would show us Saint Johns relics, that was at least our original impression, what actually transpired was far better than we could have planned or hoped. Finding our way through town took a little time but we arrived at last at The Joy of All Who Sorrow or "the Old Cathedral" as it is sometimes called. It was where Saint John first served when he arrived with his orphans and refugees from the samoan islands. A beautiful old Episcopal church with rafters fashioned of redwood by english shipwrights, all gleaming with a warm sheen, The peak of the roof was almost imperceptible in its shadows as though opening into a great beyond. It had been transformed and was now an Orthodox sanctuary, lined with Icons and steeped in prayer. Fr James, the resident priest-monk, told us many things, including the story of the cathedral and of Saint John. In this place I stood in awe, the calm was... tangible. The walls seemed alive, the Icons glowed with warmth and in the midst of the stillness a sound of soft footsteps won wood floors would echo through, though no one had moved. It was a place unlike any other, I felt out of time and removed from the world outside. It bowed my heart again as at Platina, I could imagine the words of God to Moses, "Remove thy shoes for the ground on which you stand is holy". It all overwhelmed me and moved me to tears to stand there, so unworthy. Fr James then held a short prayer service to St John and blessed us and our van. This was all swiftly surpassing my expectations when he then had us stay to for dinner. An excellent meal in the excellent company of him sister Simone and Alexandria. Fr James is an excellent storyteller and he told us many more stories of the cathedral and St John whilst occasionally jumping up to check on the prophora he was baking. After the summation of our meal he took us to visit the cell where St John had lived while in San Francisco. It was not far away, situated within an apartment that looked much the same as all the others on the street except for it's iron gate with an Orthodox Cross. Within was another sanctuary within the city. The living room was a chapel, with the same Iconostasis from the orphanage in Shanghai and several relics. Every wall in the building had an Icon if not many, and many of them were miraculously self-restoring. Down a hall was his simple cell, possessing a desk two chairs and decorated with many more Icons as well as a picture of his Parents. The second chair was one which his orphans had bought for him in which he said his prayers and slept, He had no bed, indeed the room was not even large enough to fit one. We all took turns to sit in his chair, when my time came it was again overwhelming; a feeling of grace and love permeated the very room. We were invited to stay the night at the cathedral, what a blessing to sleep in a place so tranquil, a place where a Saint had served. This morning we arose and drove to the new cathedral for Divine Liturgy. We saw its onion domes gleaming in the morning sun from several blocks away, inside was magnificent, all was covered in beautifully frescoed Icons. Off to the right side of the nave lay the reliquary of St John. As I approached I felt surrounded, embraced, by a warm and loving presence. There he lay, his body un-decayed and his vestments untouched. Now I don't care what we see for I have seen him who the city, and the world was not worthy. Glory to God for these unexpected sidetracks! Nothing else could have been better. It reminds of for whom I live and for what I must strive! O holy Hierarch John pray to God for us!
PDTL