Twice Was Enough

Today on this Fifth Sunday of Great Lent we commemorate Saint Mary of Egypt, "the humble Mary," who suffered greatly for the Lord in the Judean desert across the Jordan River.

Few of us will ever be called to suffer as she did: 

• burning heat by day and shivering cold by night; 
• clawing for roots until her nails bled and her fingers were raw; 
• complete isolation from others and physical distancing to such an extent that she fled from anyone she saw, even at a distance; and 
• finally achieving theosis through her suffering in this life, dying a holy death, and gaining Paradise.

And her nourishment for all of this was the spiritual food of the Mystical Supper, the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ which she received twice – one at the beginning of her forty-seven year voluntary isolation in the desert across the Jordan, and once more at the beginning of her eternal dwelling in the Garden of Paradise. Twice. And twice was enough.

Most of us cannot count the number of times we have received the Holy Mysteries, but almost all of us can remember the last time we received these precious Gifts. For my wife and I it was on Sunday, March 15^th, the Sunday of St. Gregory Palamas (Lent II) when most of us remember St. Gregory’s teaching that while God is unknowable in His Essence, he is knowable and can be experienced in His Energies. We do not have to be content with merely knowing about Christ our true God. We can know and experience Him directly.  None of us can truly say that we understand the Mystery of the Holy Trinity, but we can all on a daily basis participate in that ineffable and incomprehensible Mystery.

For me – for us – if we believe what we profess, then the last time we received Holy Communion is and will be enough to nourish us through our journey of isolation and physical distancing. For Saint Mary of Egypt twice was enough.  For us the last time is enough.

Conquering Fearfulness

Just over three months ago I was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer which had metasticized to my bones – a cancer which is treatable but incurable. Eventually this cancer will kill me.

One of the decisions which has been most difficult to follow through with was the decision not to live in fear. Almost every day I have felt fear, even dread at times, but for the most part I have been able to fight it off. I know the best case scenario for this cancer and following Chemotherapy it looks like that's the road we're on. But I also know the worst case scenarios (yes, there's more than one), and the hardest thing about every scenario – best or worst - is that they are all beyond my control. Living without fear has meant giving up the illusion that I'm in control of my life.

Sure, there are details over which I have control. Like eating when I have no appetite, or exercising when I feel like a couch potato. Being allowed to drive now that most of my “brain fog” has dissipated gives me another modicom of control. But being in control is ultimately illusion – “Vanity, all is vanity, says the Preacher.”

One of the hardest things for me about this Co-vid19 crisis is that it feeds the fear I don't want controlling my life. Because of my cancer (not to mention my age) I am at high risk. Co-vid19 has become another “worst case scenario” for me. The climate of fear and fearfulness sometimes gets to me.

Though I am at risk, I refuse to live in fear. I also refuse to be foolish shout it. My dear wife and I are pretty much self-isolating ourselves for the duration – trying to find the balance point between being foolish and being consumed with fear.

And there is a balance point. For me that still point is the knowledge that God loves me and that His will for me transcends best and worst case scenarios – His will is for my salvation and the salvation of those whose lives touch mine. This divine reality is how my fears are conquered. This is the prize upon which I set my gaze and toward which I strive.

I encourage you to find that still balance point in your life as we all live in this crisis.

Glory to God for all things!