Letter #4 - Reflections on the Midnight Praises: The First Canticle

“A hidden earth was shone upon by the sun and the untrodden road was walked upon.”

-       Adam Psali for the First Canticle

Dear Abba,

I stood in my prayer corner, chanting the above, and in between the holding of notes, my mind contemplated the greatness of the parting of the Red Sea.

To be a child of Israel running from slavery, to have thought that the Lord worked miracles only to bring you to a place of no escape, to lead you to death. To be motionless, with no path to walk upon as an army chases you in anger, only for the Lord to make a path where one never existed; only for the water to rise at the command of its Creator, and for the sand, which never knew the light of day, to dry for you to walk over. In the midst of chaos and terror, the children of Israel saw the almighty hand of God.

It wasn’t this miracle which encapsulated my thoughts though, it was what I knew to come after. The children of Israel sing the praises rightfully due to God on the other side of the sea, but almost immediately after, forget that which He did for them. The works of His hands are forgotten as soon as they face the slightest turmoil in the desert, as if it is they who face it and not God who has brought them to it with intentionality, God who has no need to overcome, for overcoming indicates a difficulty to be met, but the God of the universe simply is, He orders and the mountains move, the wind blows, the planets orbit. He does not overcome, for He simply is and commands what comes to be.

How many times do the children of Israel witness the greatness of the Lord and then forget Him? When they thirsted, when they hungered, when Moses went up the mount, each became an occasion for Israel to forget what the Lord had done for them. In the midst of affliction, the daily choice to turn to or away from God is amplified.

“They have turned aside quickly out of the way which I commanded them. They have made themselves a molded calf, and they worshipped it and sacrificed to it, and said, ‘This is your god, O Israel, that brought you out of the land of Egypt!’”

-       Exodus 32:8

Look at them and see the shame due to Israel! All the great works of the Lord they forgot. The boldness to give the Glory due to God to a golden calf – a calf formed by the hands of the creation of the true God. How can one be so arrogant? So corrupted?

But who are the children of Israel if not I? I who have seen the glory of God time and time again, and yet forget Him and His love. In my own affliction I say, “Lord, why have you left me?”. Why do I forget the works He has done for me? Repeatedly He has guided me, returned me, engulfed me in His love, and yet all His goodness I put behind me when I become worried about one situation or another.

Surely, even if I find myself in struggle, in difficulty, filled with anxiety, I cannot deny that His love endures above all. He who was crucified for my sake.

Unfortunately, to keep honest, my lack of thanksgiving extends to the saints. As I asked each intercessor for their prayers following Compline today, my eyes came to the icon of Saint Anthony, who I make request of first and last. My dear father. With no warning or expectation, I found tears in my eyes, and the words out of my mouth, “Why have you forgotten me? I who call you father”. I’m not entirely sure what I expected – a part of me waits for his hand on my shoulder to comfort me or maybe for him to come visit and tell me he hasn’t. But even father Anthony for the sake of God, to whom is due all glory, did not forget me in my weak state but remembered me. How could I forget what he has done for me by God’s grace? That God called me back through him. Just another one of God’s many works which I seem to cast aside in the midst of troubles.

But I desire to be one who remembers the Beloved at all times. Who does not ask God, “Where are you?” but perceives His presence in all things and at all times.

I began writing this letter, with no line of coherent thoughts beforehand, merely my tears from earlier and the words of the Midnight Praises which struck my heart tonight. But as I wrote the words in the paragraph above: “lack of thanksgiving” it occurred to me that maybe thanksgiving itself is the answer. Maybe it’s not even just about remembering the large gestures God has done in His love for me – maybe it’s recognizing the presence of His love in the everyday. His presence in the everyday. Recognizing that the creation reflects the goodness of the Creator. That if I can thank Him for the mere fact that I arose from sleep, how can I later in the day accuse Him of not working. Or even if I am not accusing Him, if I am thanking Him daily “for everything, concerning everything and in everything”, how could I ever forget Him?

Wait. Is that why the Church starts every prayer with the Thanksgiving prayer? Is that why before we even offer the lamb on the altar, we have already said the Thanksgiving prayer in vespers, at matins, and then proceed to say it again. Because if we know and trust that He not only holds the universe in His hand, but is the source of life that runs throughout each being, then we will thank Him at all times and in all things; leading us to see Him in all.

Perhaps thanksgiving is the beginning of the remembrance of God. I wonder if the children of Israel would still have insisted on the golden calf had they woke up that morning and thanked God. If they thanked Him for removing them from Egypt and parting the Red Sea, if they thanked Him for the water He brought forth from a rock, if they thanked Him for the manna which fell from the heaven; but even on a more micro level, if they thanked Him for rising in the morning, for the air they breathed, for those who He surrounds them with, for community, for the ability to move. If they thanked Him literally “for everything, concerning everything and in everything.”

I think I now conclude, with this thought: One who thanks the Giver, is slow to forget. Because in the midst of being thankful, he remembers and sees the Giver’s goodness.

In hopes for myself, I the weak, may I not only one day see Him in what I perceive to be difficulty and affliction, but may I come to thank Him for affliction, so that I can truly say I have remembered Him and thanked Him in everything.

Knowing my own weakness, I thank Him for never leaving me. I thank Him that in the midst of my sinfulness, He has always looked upon me with love.

I thank Him for your guiding hand, dear Abba.

Love you, Abba.

Pray for me,

Your weak son.