Why Is That Man Wearing A Dress?

Meandering down the aisles of the local Costco with my dad and my three children yesterday, I caught the attention of one little girl. She and her parents were going in the opposite direction we were, and so every aisle, we would encounter her again, and every time, she would ask her parents why I was wearing a dress. Not wanting to intrude on their shopping trip, I simply smiled to myself at the question.

It's a good question that I even ask myself sometimes. Setting aside the historical development of clerical garb, why do I wear a dress? I know there are many clergy who don't wear a cassock when they go out on anything but church business. I have no interest in arguing whether they are right or wrong in doing so. But I almost always wear my cassock and cross outside the house, and my reasons have little to do with whether it is right or wrong to do so.

One might think that I do it because I like to draw attention to myself. As an extreme introvert, I can tell you that is definitely not the reason. Every time that someone looks me up and down trying to figure out why I might be wearing such a ridiculous get-up, I feel like shrinking down into a crack in the floor and running away. If I did it because I "love greetings in the marketplace and being called Rabbi, Rabbi" I wouldn't be getting what I was after anyway.

I dress this way because sometimes people will ask for prayers, sometimes people want to talk, or they want to know something about my church. It's a chance for serving others. I recently had an encounter on the streets of Brooklyn. I was walking from a friend's house to the place where I was staying and a man was intrigued by my outfit and asked me what it meant. We talked as we walked along about why I became a priest. He was a special education teacher, a job which is also a vocation that depends on love and service. He described himself as a rabid atheist, but we still had a nice conversation that unfortunately ended too soon. Dressing this way is a reminder that there are still people who believe, still people who pray, still people who will listen -- not all of them dress the way I do, but I can remind people, or rather my clothing can remind people, that they are there.

I would be lying if I said that this is why I walk down the aisles of Costco in a dress, however. I do it because I am a prodigal. Every year when I read the gospel on the Sunday of the Prodigal Son, I am struck by the things the father gives his son upon his return. Since my own return from a far off land, I too have been given a robe, a ring, and shoes on my feet. In my prodigal times I was not only away from the Church, but also very lonely. Since returning, since committing to live as a hired servant, God has blessed me with a wonderful wife. My wedding ring is a reminder of my return as are the shoes on my feet (my wife has always insisted on me wearing better shoes than I would normally buy myself). The robes I have been given to wear as a priest are a constant reminder me of how far I departed, how miserable that life was, and how much forgiveness I have received.

If I'm honest with myself, I'm a little afraid that if I take off my robe I will be found without a festal robe at the wedding banquet. I need that reminder every day of the great gift I have been given. I need the stares and occasional derision to remind me that I don't belong to this world and that I need to live for the Kingdom which is to come. I am glad when it gives me the opportunity to share something about my faith with others, or to serve as a reminder that the Church still exists, because we are all prodigals who need to remember our father's house, who need to be reminded that we need not be in want when His hired servants have it better, and to be prompted to return home and find forgiveness.

That, for my little friend at the Costco, is why that man was wearing a dress.

Restoring an Image

In the 9^th Century, the Church instituted a yearly remembrance for this, the first Sunday of Great Lent. That celebration is known as the Triumph of Orthodoxy and commemorates the restoration of the holy icons to the Church after two periods of iconoclasm.

We might wonder why this event is remembered as the Triumph of Orthodoxy when the Church has seen and known countless Saints and miracles throughout its history. But perhaps it should not surprise us given that from the very beginning, the concept of image has been central to our human existence.

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth. He created all the plants and animals which fill our world, but He did not bestow His image and likeness on any of those things. Upon man alone, God bestowed His image, making man the first icon of God. Man, by his sin, distorted this image. The Great Canon of Saint Andrew of Crete that we celebrated over the first four days of this past week describes the image of God as buried like the lost coin in one of Jesus’ parables. In other places he refers to this image as being darkened, neglected, or even lost. But he is quick to ask the Lord to rescue him from his unfortunate state. “I have buried with passions the beauty of the original image, O Saviour. But seek and find it, like the lost coin.”

So what does it take to restore an image? The more beautiful the image, the more important it is that the image be restored with care, with attention, and with skill. We must first assess what damage has taken place, and we must carefully consider what must be done to remedy the damage. A restorer must have all the skills of the original artist, knowing the materials, the techniques, and the style of the artist, in addition to knowing all the techniques and materials to deal with the many forms of damage there are to the image. Someone who is lacking in any of these areas might at best be able to improve on the current state of the image, or even bring it close to what it originally was, but they will never be able to make the image like new. At worst, they might even further disfigure the image.

We know from the culture around us how we can disfigure this image. We see that even when people are well-intentioned, they seek self-help remedies and empty spiritual practices in the attempt to be better people. They don’t even acknowledge the image of God within themselves, but seek to craft an image of goodness on their own. Worse, yet, we might make idols of our own selves, worshiping only our own lusts and sinful pleasures. In these we will only find condemnation.

On the contrary, we see in the Old Testament  many examples of those who valued the image of God within themselves, who sought after God, who loved Him with all their hearts, and with God’s help improved the tarnished state of this image within themselves. In this morning’s epistle, we get a summary of some of those people: “Gideon and Barak and Samson and Jephthah, also of David and Samuel and the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life again. Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented- of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth.” These are examples of how we can follow God, how we can obey his commandments even to the point of suffering for His sake in doing so. While all are made in the image of God, such examples show more of the likeness to God which is so often lost, buried, and disfigured.

And yet despite their love of God, despite their labors and pains for Him, Saint Paul says that “all these, having obtained a good testimony through faith, did not receive the promise, God having provided something better for us, that they should not be made perfect apart from us.” They were not perfected in this image for the image was still marred in a way that no man could repair on his own.

And so, in the fullness of time, Our Lord, the fashioner of this image came to restore the image Himself. No one else could restore this image to its former glory but God Himself. And so God became man and perfected this image. It was not sufficient that God should send prophets or great men to restore the image. And so to maintain as the heretics did that Christ was not fully God would be to say that the image of God in man has not been restored or perfected because the Creator, the great artist has remained distant from His work. Likewise, we cannot agree that Christ was not fully man; as without entering into His work, how could He refashion and restore it? By becoming man, our Lord sanctified all creation, but in particular, He took on His own image and perfected it, making it shine with a glory that it hadn’t even possessed in the garden of Eden.

But He did not stop with assuming our flesh. After ascending into the Heavens and being enthroned as both God and man at the right hand of God the Father, He sent forth the Holy Spirit to come and abide in us to transform and restore each of us to the former glory of  that lost image. But this restoration does not come easy to us. With the help of God, we must identify the damage that has been done within ourselves. We must turn those things, as well as the defects that only God knows, over to Him for Him to repair. This is why things like the examination of our conscience, the confession of our sins, the prayer of Saint Ephraim and services like the Great Penitential Canon are so important to our spiritual lives. They are the  means by which we identify where we are in need of restoration so that we can ask God to take away the damaged areas of our life and ask Him to fill those worn away places with His glorious image.

We must also cooperate with the repairs through participation in the Holy Mysteries, through repentance from our sins, through prayer, fasting, and alms-giving. All of these things are the materials, the tools, and the techniques of the Restorer of the Divine image within us. As Saint Andrew says “emulate the righteous and avoid following sinners, and regain Christ’s grace by prayers, fasts, purity and reverence.

The icon of Christ is a silent witness, a testimony to the truth that God became man in the person of Jesus Christ and dwelt among us. That He made human flesh capable of bearing the Divine within itself, that by the harmony of His Divine and Human wills we might likewise be able to align our will with God’s. The icons of the saints witness to the truth that the Holy Spirit given to us in our Baptism and Chrismation works within us, and that if we work with God, He will transform us and return us to the image of God. The icons are important not because they are pretty but because they show us the gospel, and they remind us of the goal of the Christian life – to be transfigured as Christ was transfigured, that the light of Christ may shine through us and show the image and likeness of God to the world that all may desire to come to receive this light for themselves.

A Prolonged Absence

It's been a very long time since I posted anything here. At first it was because life was busy, I had just been ordained as a deacon and had a child on the way.  Then I didn't post because I couldn't remember my login information. I would periodically sit down to think about writing something only to be called away and forget to ever go back to it. 

Well a lot has happened since my last post. My son Ioan was born a little over a month after my last post. We named him after Saint John of San Francisco whose intercession we sought throughout the time that my wife was pregnant with him. I anointed her with oil from the vigil lamp at his tomb each day. His icon has a small vial of rose water with which they washed Saint John's relics before re-vesting him, a gift from our priest who was there for this occasion. Ioan has grown into such a wonderful young boy and a terrific big brother. 

Then a couple years later his brother Theodore was born. He is named after Saint Theodore the Studite, the great defender of icons during iconoclasm. Teddy is probably the most like me of any of the kids, he is always doing things that I remember doing as a child (even the bad things). It is amazing to me how children can act as mirrors of our selves. He is a very sweet boy and is very smart and clever for his age.

A few years later, our daughter Maria Joy was born. She was a bit of a surprise. I gave a talk at a Pastoral Conference about the icon of The Joy of All Who Sorrow. When in the process of preparing a homily on the subject the next year, my wife didn't want to tell me that she suspected that she was pregnant until after I had given the homily. I told her that if the baby was a girl she would have to be named after the Joy of All Who Sorrow, and sure enough that's what happened. She is now 17 months old, she's walking and babbling up a storm. She adores both of her big brothers.

These three children have been such a blessing to my wife and me. None of them have been "easy" children, they don't believe in sleep or rest or any such thing. We are constantly on our toes. But they have brought joy, consolation, and a sense of God's love and providence to us.

I have continued teaching workshops on iconography and lecturing from time to time. We have been blessed to travel with the children and have made life-long friends with many of the amazing students we have encountered. This past year I completed the Pastoral School of the Diocese of Chicago and the Midwest (ROCOR) It was a two year program that took me roughly five years to complete. I finished a well-recieved thesis on the subject of iconography which helped me to re-examine much of what I thought I knew about iconography. It has helped me in my teaching and in my own understanding of what icons mean for myself and for the Church.

On November 13, 2018, seven years to the day after my ordination to the diaconate, I was ordained to the priesthood at Saint Nicholas Cathedral in Seattle for continued service at my parish in Boise. I am greatly blessed to be able to serve alongside Father David Moser at Saint Seraphim's Orthodox Church as his assistant. I also have the great joy of having my son, Ioan, as an altar server with me.

I felt that it was important to post here again for a number of reasons. The first being that I still get the occasional email about the loss that my wife and I suffered so many years ago. It has been a part of my life since, and am glad to know that others can sympathize with our loss. But I also want to encourage others that life does continue. Sometimes with the blessing of other children. Sometimes with other blessings. My wife and I responded to our loss by throwing ourselves into the life of the Church. This has born plentiful fruit in our lives. It does not take away the loss but can transform and transfigure grief into something beautiful. It can turn sorrow into joy if you will.

I also know that I have more to say about icons, about theology, about the Saints. Some of this comes from my studies, some of it from my work as an iconographer, and some of it from homilies that I am giving at my parish. I can't claim great wisdom or insight, but a desire to share what I have learned with others.

It has been nearly a year since I posted anything substantive on this blog. It has been hard to collect my thoughts and to put much into writing. The loss of our baby last February changed a lot in both my wife and me. It brought us tremendous sorrow, more than either of us could have imagined. But it also brought with it God's grace. In losing our child, we grew closer to each other and closer to God. We learned so much about each other, and helped each other in our weakest moments. With almost a year since then, we can thank God for the little bit of time we had with our Benjamin, we can thank God for bringing us together and giving us strength through one another, and we can thank God for taking care of our baby in His heavenly kingdom. We even ask that if he has found favor in God's sight that our son may pray for us.

We also ask that he pray for his baby brother who is just a few weeks from being born. It was difficult to risk putting our hearts on the chopping block again, but we knew that the desire to bring a new life into our lives had not gone away. He has been such a blessing to us. At our first ultrasound, we went into the doctor's office hoping that we would not be heartbroken when we left. What we saw was a baby full of life and anxious to set his parents' hearts at ease. Like St. John the Forerunner, he leapt in his mother's womb. We have so loved going through the various stages of pregnancy and marveling at this little life forming. Our priest gave us a vial of oil from St. John the Wonderworker with which I anoint my wife and my baby every day. We ask for his intercession for our son and thank God for each moment we have with him.



We have been blessed by God both in adversity and in joy over the past year. Through both we have learned the value of serving and loving others. We learned this first through serving and loving each other in our loss. In this past year, we were also given an opportunity to serve and love others in an even greater capacity. On November 13, I was ordained to the Diaconate by His Eminence Archbishop Kyrill of San Francisco. I am so happy to be able to minister to my parish as a Deacon, and to be able to serve others as I have been served by others. Our priest was so helpful in our loss, and I learned how important it is to have the prayers, understanding, and compassion of others. I only hope that I can help give that to others.

My wife and I have been so pleased with the additional Liturgies we had in the forty days after my ordination. To be partaking of the Eucharist more often, to be exposing our son to the music and chanting and the grace in our Liturgy as he is being formed in the womb has been so comforting. We are thankful to all those who prayed for us and continue to pray for us. We are thankful for the intercessions of St. John the Wonderworker, St. Seraphim of Sarov (whose parish I serve)and all the Saints. We are thankful that God has blessed us with this new life, and a new ministry. We are thankful for each other and for the love and support of family and friends.

New Book On Icons

Sanctify Those Who Love the Beauty of Thy House by Matthew D. Garrett | Make Your Own Book

So after months of work, and the last week of constant work, the new edition of my blurb book is done. Please check out the preview and order one (or several if you are so inclined) or forward the information to anyone you think might be interested.

Memory Eternal

Just over three weeks ago, Saturday February 12, the weather in Boise was beautiful. It was unseasonably warm and the sun was shining. My wife and I were one day away from celebrating the two year anniversary of having met in person. But it was the ugliest day of my life. We were losing our baby.

About a month earlier, we had learned that we were going to have a baby. We were excited, anxious, nervous, and terrified, but most of all we were thankful to God for such a wonderful blessing in our lives. We started to prepare ourselves in earnest for the arrival of our child. Unable to keep such great news to ourselves, we called friends and family members. I refrained from yelling it from the rooftops, but only just barely.

In one of the many books about pregnancy, we read that the baby was about the size of a grain of rice. We started to refer to our child as "Uncle Ben." After about a week or two of calling the baby by that nickname, we had decided that we really liked the name Benjamin for a boy (we had settled on Juliana for a girl since that was the saint of the day when we first went to the church after finding out that we were expecting).

We fell in love with our baby. Our life became one of preparation. It became baby-centric. And on that warm February morning, the center of that baby-centric life left us.

There was a time in my life when I thought that a miscarriage was not a big deal. I always assumed that you didn't really fall in love with your baby until you saw your baby or held him in your arms. Without that new-baby smell, the cute little fingers and toes, the adorable little sound they make, what is there to love except fatigue, discomfort or morning sickness? I know now that a child who has not been born yet is one of infinite possibilities. My wife and I lost our son and our daughter. We lost a child who had the best qualities of both of us and none of the bad qualities of either of us. Our baby was beautiful, smart, funny, caring, loving, godly, and yet humble. Our child was all these things because they are a child of potential. As foolish as it may seem, you start living your child's life in your imagination, you anticipate all the wonderful moments. There is a reason why we like to think about our child's wedding day, and not their first car crash or head wound. We want all the best for our children.

I miss my child. I miss talking to Uncle Ben, even though he couldn't hear me yet. I have cried more for the loss of my baby than for any other loss I have suffered in my life. I have learned that the grief associated with miscarriage is profound, but seldom understood by others. Several people have since told me that they lost a child to miscarriage. In most cases, I never knew about their loss. I can't help but think it is because so many people don't want to hear about it. People tell you that it happens all the time and is no big deal. They tell you to try again or move on, and eventually you don't want to tell people because it is easier to suffer in silence. But I don't want to pretend like my baby never existed.

My wife and I named our baby Benjamin. We don't know whether our child was a boy or a girl, but we wanted to name our baby so that we could pray for him and remember him as a person. I painted the icon of the Holy Patriarch Benjamin at the top of this post to keep in our icon corner as a remembrance of our first baby. Though the baby's name started as a bit of a joke, I find it such a fitting name. The Patriarch Jacob had two favorite sons, Joseph and Benjamin, the sons of his beloved wife Rachel. When Joseph was sold into slavery, Benjamin remained. Jacob's love for his son Benjamin was so strong, that he couldn't bear the thought of parting with him even if it was necessary to save his people. And yet he had no choice but to let Benjamin go. In doing so, they were saved. I pray that this loss will be for my salvation and for the salvation of my wife, but I will forever remember my beloved child, and cherish the few memories that we have.

From a Name Synonymous With Christian Iconography

What makes an icon holy? Surely it can't be the iconographer. Speaking for myself, I often fail in my spiritual life. At times I really try, and at other times I struggle to make even a small effort to live a life of holiness. From my conversations with other iconographers, I know that this is a common problem, which should not be surprising since most of us live our lives this way.

So if the work of the iconographer doesn't impart holiness to the icon, what then makes it holy? Surely it must be the image itself. The image reflects the prototype, and gives us a glimpse of the holiness of the person depicted. Most of us have many icons that are mounted prints. This is permissible because the image still reflects the prototype. It needs no iconographer to recreate the image because the iconographer imparts no actual holiness to the image anyway. Sure you need a few iconographers to create the images to be reproduced, but a photographic print is just as holy, just as real as a hand-painted icon. And since so many of us can't afford the cost of hand-painted icons, we are very fortunate that the mounted print is just as holy.

But what if you could have a hand-painted icon for the same cost as a mounted print? This morning I got an email from Shiva International based out of India. As you can no doubt guess from their name, they are in the business of selling icons... or at least they hope to be. They sent me several pictures of hand painted icons they have produced and would like to sell in the US, Greece, and a few other countries. They all look similar to icons, but just enough different that they look slightly off. There was no indication what the prices would be, but let's hope that they are cheap! With a little work, I'm sure they can get to the point that they look very much like the real thing. So if the iconographer is not what matters, and the image looks like the prototype, it must be holy, right? Or is there more to it than that?

I think that what is missing is that icons should be the work of the Church. We all know that if the priest doesn't pray or fast as well as he should that the sacraments are still holy. We all know that if the priest gets a few things out of order or misreads a word that the sacraments are still holy. They are the work of the Church with Christ as its head. So too icons must be the work of the Church. Whether hand-painted or mounted prints, icons should come from the Church. Those doing the work should be people striving to live a good life and in good standing within the Church. But we recognize that they too are fallen and in need of constant forgiveness. Our work in making them should be an offering to God and a service to our fellow man, and not a work of pure commercialism. We as members of the Church should support those whose ministry it is to create these icons for our Church. People in India need to make a living too, but where will we be if we support businesses before ministries?

My wife and I have been trying to eat more local foods, ones that have been sustainably raised, in a responsible and ethical manner. What if we were to do something similar with icons, prayer ropes, incense, candles, vestments, and other goods for our Churches and homes. A local producer may not live next door to you, but shouldn't they at least share your faith? Shouldn't they be a part of your Church in some way? Shouldn't the creation of these items be something that is passed on from generation to generation, one that gives back to the Church and its faithful people rather than just taking from them? Shouldn't we support those people who make quality products, who are familiar with the theology they are passing on, and who use their work to minister and not just make money? Of course the answer is yes to all of these questions. But when we look for icons, are we looking at the bottom line of price, or are we choosing to make our Churches healthier and our ministries stronger? I hope so.

Labor of Love Completed

It's been a very long time since I posted anything substantive here, but I wanted to post this picture of the iconostasis at our Church, finally completed. Our wedding was nearly 8 months ago now, and I just recently added the icons to the Deacon's doors and added a few finishing touches to the Royal doors and St. John. In total, it took me about a year's worth of time, having to space things out with commission work.

I've been reflecting a bit lately on what it means to me to have this project completed. It was so important to me during the time that I was living in PA for Lisa to be able to have something in Church to remind her of me. At the time of the wedding, it was important to me to have them as a statement of how much I love my wife. Now that we are married, and that we are in Church together regularly, it is important to me as a reminder of how God worked to bring us together.

It seems to me that this is precisely why icons are important. One could easily assume that icons are a way of making the invisible visible. But this is not accurate. Icons are allowable, and in fact necessary, precisely because they make the visible visible. In a sense, they operate in much the same way as a microscope or a telescope does. One would be wrong to suggest that a very small cell or a very distant planet was invisible. They are fully visible, they are every bit as real as the things that we see with the naked unassisted eye, but they cannot be perceived without assistance. Icons help us to see what is visible, but not always perceived.

As a gift to my wife, these icons made lots of things visible. My love for my wife, the fact that I missed her when I was away, and the fact that God helped to bring us together across great distances. But my hope is that as a gift to the Church, they show us that God loves us all, that He loves us so much that He took on human flesh for our salvation, that He took that human flesh and ascended to sit at the right hand of God the Father, and that He sent the Holy Spirit to dwell in us and sanctify us just as He has sanctified the Saints and the faithful before us. Our God and His work among us is visible, and is there to be seen with eyes of faith. I pray that these icons will help those looking with naked eyes to get a glimpse into the eternal that they may grow in faith and develop spiritual sight.Here are closer looks at each of the icons in the iconostasis.

Christ the Light-Giver:

Pimen Mother of God

Royal Doors

Transfiguration of the Lord (Patron of the Temple)

St. John the Forerunner

Archangel Gabriel

Archangel Michael

New Website = Happy Dance

Hello all!

Thanks to the hard work of my sister, I have a new website to share with everybody. The URL has not changed, just the design and some of the content. So please check out http://www.holy-icons.com and let me know what you think, share it with friends and family that you think might be interested, leave comments if you like, and please enjoy! I also want to thank my wonderful wife who helped me over the last several weeks to get all the content moved over to the new site. I am so thrilled with the new site, and I look forward to the greater amount of participation from visitors that this site allows.

The Painting and Praying of an Icon

The following is taken from a talk given to an Episcopal Clergy Retreat in Jerome, ID recently:

In his manual for icon painters, Dionysius of Fourna, an 18^th century monk on Mount Athos speaks to the Mother of God about his desire to be an iconographer like the Apostle Luke whom tradition credits with painting the first icon of the Virgin. He writes:

“I wished to become his unworthy imitator, and started the art of painting icons, thinking that the desire to fulfill my duty to your most high and laudable magnificence was the same as the ability. However, in my arrogance I failed greatly, as nature did not assist me sufficiently or accompany my intentions and wishes.”

Our natural artistic abilities are inadequate to the task of depicting the incarnate God, His mother, and the saints. What is needed above all else is humility, prayer and God's guidance. If an Athonite monk was unworthy and incapable of such a task, how much less equipped am I?

The rules for an iconographer, as handed down to me by my teacher read:

“Before starting work, make the sign of the Cross; pray in silence, and pardon your enemies”

and

“During work, pray in order to strengthen yourself physically and spiritually; avoid above all useless words, and keep silence.”

And so, I have structured this essay around the Prayer Before Beginning an Icon, taken from Dionysius' Painter's Manual:

“O Divine Lord of all that exists, Thou hast illumined the Apostle and Evangelist Luke with Thy Holy Spirit, thereby enabling him to represent thy most holy mother, the one who held Thee in her arms and said: “the grace of Him who was born of me is spread throughout the world.”

Enlighten and direct my soul, my heart and my spirit. Guide the hands of Thine unworthy servant so that I may worthily and perfectly portray Thine icon, that of Thy mother and all the Saints, for the glory, joy and adornment of Thy holy Church.

Forgive my sins and the sins of those who will venerate these icons and who, kneeling devoutly before them give homage to those they represent. Protect them from evil and instruct them with good counsel.

This I ask, through the intercessions of Thy most holy mother, the Apostle Luke and all the Saints. Amen.”

“O Divine Lord of all that exists”

An icon is meant to be primarily the work of God rather than the work of man. Before picking up a brush, the iconographer asks God to guide the process, calling on Him as “Lord of all that exists.” All that we have has been given to us by God and rightly belongs to Him. The wood, cloth, pigments, and gold are meant for God's glory. So too, any artistic skill or talent, time or energy, all find their source in him and ought to be invested, as in the Parable of the Talents, to be given back to Him with increase.

The icon begins with these raw materials, to be put together for God's glory, but long before the painting begins, the board must be prepared using a healthy portion of time and effort to produce a smooth, stable, long-lasting surface on which to produce this heavenly image.

Each board begins with 3/4” plywood. Older icons were, of course, painted on solid wood. Slats of wood were placed in the back of the icon panel across the grain to prevent the panel from warping. With the plies in plywood alternating directions, ideally warping should be kept to a minimum.

The board is sealed with two layers of acrylic gesso. After sealing the board, a piece of cloth is embedded between two wet layers of gesso. The cloth is not meant to give texture, but stabilizes the paint. Even the best prepared panel will expand with heat and humidity, shrink in the cold and in dry conditions, and will warp a little from time to time. As it does, the paint will have a tendency to crack, and so the cloth gives the paint something to adhere to that has greater flexibility than bare wood. Several more layers are applied on top until the cloth is no longer visible. This surface is then sanded smooth so that the icon board has no texture.

“Thou hast illumined the Apostle and Evangelist Luke with thy Holy Spirit, thereby enabling him to represent thy most holy Mother.”

St. Luke is said to have painted the original Hodegetria icon (She Who Shows the Way). But before this, tradition says that Christ Himself created an icon by pressing his face to a cloth. An artist was sent by King Abgar of Edessa to paint a portrait of Christ. The king suffered from leprosy and sought the portrait as a means of healing. The artist was unable to capture a good likeness of the Lord, so Jesus created one miraculously. This image was returned to the king who was healed. But even before this God created the first icon by making man in His own image. As such, man is himself a creator, and the drive to make images, far from being sinful, is in fact inherently good and to be given back to God.

But the ideal is for each icon to emulate that icon “Not Made by Hands.” My mark as an artist should be secondary to the work of God, of the Holy Spirit, as we believe was the case with that first icon by St. Luke.

This is why we adhere to ancient prototypes, setting aside our own desire to innovate. This is why we pray during the process, and this is why we don't sign our work, but rather acknowledge the Holy Spirit as the source of an icon. Primarily this adherence to an ancient prototype begins with the drawing.

Though there are many instructions on how to properly proportion a figure in an icon, iconography is on of the few forms of art where copying is encouraged. In most cases drawings are made by tracing or carefully copying an older icon. Adjustments can be made when necessary, but as the point is not to innovate, often adjustments are not necessary.

“The one who held thee in her arms and said: 'The grace of Him who was born of me is spread throughout the world.”

This prayer clearly references the Incarnation of Christ, the justification and source for this holy art. The creation of icons is a means of proclaiming visually the incarnation and making God present to the eyes. These words are given as the words the Mother of God spoke upon seeing the icon that St. Luke had painted.

Through the creation of icons, the gospel is spread, and the grace of God is communicated throughout the world to all who would look upon them and recognize the incarnate God who makes these images possible.

The rules for the icon painter demonstrate the continuing role of icons in the spreading of this grace throughout the world:

“Never forget:

The joy of spreading icons in the world.

The joy of the work of icon painting.

The joy of giving the Saint the possibility to shine through his/her icon.

The joy of being in union with the saint whose face you are painting.”

We make Christ and His Saints present to the world, not incarnate – but visible. They are often referred to as windows to Heaven. They are not themselves incarnations of those depicted, but a means of gazing into the Kingdom of God.

“Enlighten and direct my soul, my heart and my spirit.”

The icon begins , not in the mind of an iconographer, not in the imagination, but in the heart, the soul and the spirit. If our hearts are not pure, if we are unrepentant or unforgiving, if we are greedy or prideful, our work will suffer for it. When choosing a prototype, deciding on compositions and colors, we seek direction and guidance from God. If our hearts are hardened like Pharaoh, we will always choose what we want, that which is aesthetically pleasing to us, or will bring us honor and esteem from others, rather than what will give honor and esteem and glory to God and His Saints.

Like our souls, the icon is a process of enlightening or illumination. The painting of the icon begins with the application of the base colors for each of the robes and the flesh. These are the darkest colors in the icon. Unlike many other forms of art, there are no cast shadows in icons, as the light source for an icon is the light of Christ shining through the figure. The way that this is accomplished is by beginning the painting with the darkest colors and gradually illuminating the figure with successive layers of highlight. This process mirrors the gradual transformation of salvation from darkness into the light that is a life in Christ.

“Guide the hands of thine unworthy servant”

Once our spirit is set right, we seek guidance for our hands. Once again, the focus is not on imagination, creativity, or artistic tastes, as these will only lead us astray from the truth. Our hands are given to God for His purposes.

One of the most profound moments in my time as an iconographer was when a priest who has dedicated his life to serving the least among us in his ministry to homeless and runaways kissed my hand after blessing an icon I had painted for his Church. For him, it was a recognition of God's work through my hand, and yet for me it was so humbling because I feel so unworthy to be seen as the means for God's work.

Iconographers use other icons for models rather than working from real life models. Compositions are based on older prototypes rather than being drawn from imagination.

Much is made of the symbolic meaning of the colors used in icons. The colors in the icon of the Theotokos show her to be a human being showered with the grace of God, while the colors in the icons of her son show Him as the eternal God who took on flesh for our salvation. Black can signify death, hades, and the abyss; white can signify life, resurrection and purity; red can signify martyrdom and sacrifice; purple can signify wealth or royalty; gold too can signify royalty, even divinity. And yet, color does not always carry deep meaning, and it is important not to try to read into icons meanings and symbolism that are not there. An iconographer has more freedom than is sometimes assumed. And yet this freedom can be a place for the Holy Spirit to work in and through the iconographer.

In the rules for an icon painter, the fifth rule reads:

“When you have to choose a color, stretch out your hands interiorly to the Lord and ask His counsel.”

When I first took notice of this particular rule, I had been an iconographer for many years, and I was taken aback by these words. One of the most frequent compliments I received is that people like my colors. My teacher would often ask about my color combinations because he was so impressed. And yet I knew that I could not take credit for the colors used since I am red-green colorblind, and often can't even see some of what I have done.

I used to think it was my knowledge of color theory, but I couldn't tell why I tried some combinations except that God works through us, and knowing that God shows His strength in our weakness. I find it so fitting that God would guide my hand in choosing colors rather than me simply using my eyes.

“So that I may worthily and perfectly portray thine icon, that of Thy mother and all the Saints”

Perfection is seen as faithfully continuing tradition. It is in tradition that we find the truth. Perfection is also in the proper communication of the gospel message. There is a strong tie between the hymnography of the Church and the iconography of the Church. Icons teach theology visually in the same way that our hymns teach theology verbally. As such, it is important for an iconographer to know the hymns and theology of the Church.

In deciding on a prototype for an icon of a feast of the Church, the hymns for that feast will help an iconographer to determine which prototype best presents the eternal truths of the celebration.

There is remarkable continuity in how the Saints are depicted, solely because iconographers for centuries have set aside their egos, studied icons of the past, lived the liturgical life of the Church, where they are steeped in its theology, and allowed the Holy Spirit to guide them to create icons that are both relevant and contemporary, but still deeply rooted in ancient truth.

With the painting of the face, our Lord, His mother, and His Saints become even more present to our senses. The highlighting of the face is accomplished with thousands of small brush strokes. It is an intensely repetitive activity, giving great opportunity for prayer and meditation on the divine. It is especially moving as the face slowly emerges from darkness. To see the Lord and His Saints beginning to look out from the board is a great privilege and an inducement to repentance.

For this reason, many iconographers begin with the face rather than the robes. This way, the Lord and His Saints are present while the robes are being painted. I most often wait until after the robes are done to paint the faces because I would never want to accidentally mar the face through a moment of carelesness.

The rules for an icon painter tell us of the reverence we ought to have for this process:

“Work with care on every detail of your icon as if you were working in front of the Lord Himself”

and

“Pray in particular to the Saint whose face you are painting. Keep your mind from distractions, and the Saint will be close to you.”

“For the glory, joy and adornment of Thy holy Church.”

It is important that the work is done for the glory of God and His Church. Dionysius of Fourna writes:

“Furthermore, those who do this work with devotion and diligence receive grace and blessing from God; but whoever from rapaciousness and love of money undertakes this work without respect and diligence, may they reflect well and repent before their end, fearing the punishment of Judas, whom they resemble in their love of money.”

In addition each Orthodox Church is meant to be an icon of the Kingdom of Heaven, and so the arrangement of icons and their compositions also help to teach. The adornment of an Orthodox Church is an integral part of the way that Orthodox Christians give glory to God.

The use of gold leaf is a means of expressing the glory and splendor of God. It represents the uncreated light of Heaven itself. This is why the halos are created using gold leaf (23K). Gold was traditionally used both for its value, and because it can be burnished to a highly reflective surface. This then reflects light as though it was coming from within the figure itself.

The gold is adhered using a gold size which is a glue that is painted anywhere the gold will go. As with the acrylic paints I use, this gold size is a slight departure into modern materials. The materials have changed over the years from encaustic painting which uses melted wax to bind the pigments, to egg tempera which uses egg yolk instead of wax. Apart from these, icons are often made with mosaic or fresco for more monumental work. Now most iconographers in this country are using acrylic paints which bind the pigments with an acrylic polymer. Even iconographers who work in egg tempera often use acrylics for some of their work for the ease of use and quick drying and preparation times. The materials really are in service to the theology and the technique.

“Forgive my sins and the sins of those who will venerate these icons and who, kneeling devoutly before them, give homage to those they represent.”

We ask God for forgiveness of our sins that we might be in communion with God without hindrance in the creation of an icon. So too we ask God to forgive the sins of those who will venerate the icons. Icons are made to make present Christ and His Saints, and in that sense they are made to be venerated. In order to approach holiness, we must be purified of our sins. So in order for us to properly venerate and contemplate icons, we must seek forgiveness.

The veneration given to an icon passes through to the person depicted. An icon ought to resemble the person insofar as that is possible. That requires the use of prototypes. In some cases when Saints are more recent, photographs can serve as a prototype. Icons are not meant to be realistic, but rather depictions of both the physical and spiritual. So even when a photograph is used as a prototype, it will end up being stylized. The noses are made long and thin to show that the person has moved beyond this world. They smell only the incense that accompanies our prayers rather than the scents of this world. The mouth is made smaller, and is closed. The Saints refrain from idle talk and are made to sing praises to God. The eyes are usually slightly enlarged as they behold the glory and splendor of God. The ears listen only to the prayers and hymns rather than the cacophony that surrounds us. Signs of infirmity or disease are removed from the depiction of their glorified bodies. Clothing and hand gestures are all symbolic of position, role in this world, and the life they lived.

In cases when no prototype can be found for an icon of an obscure saint, these methods of stylization allow us to depict the Saint based solely on whatever information is available.

“Protect them from all evil and instruct them with good counsel.”

Icons, in that they connect us with the Kingdom of Heaven, protect us from evil. As St. Paul says in his letter to the Hebrews,

“Therefore since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which does so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.”

Icons serve as a reminder of those who have already run the race, but serve as a point of contact with them.

The lettering in the icon is an important step in the painting process. It has been said that an icon is not completed until the name has been inscribed on the icon, thus definitively linking the icon with the person it represents. The style of lettering I use borrows heavily from the Slavic tradition. Letters are made with long, thin verticals, and even thinner horizontal lines. The letters are often stacked and nested together. The lettering is as much a part of beautifying the icon as an other part of the icon.

“This I ask through the intercessions of Thy most holy mother, the Apostle Luke and all the Saints. Amen.”

Asking for the intercessions of the Mother of God, St. Luke and all the other Saints, especially those we are about to paint, it is then possible to begin God's work.

When the painting is completed, the icon is varnished to seal and protect the icon from any damage. It also enlivens the icon. As the paint dries, it becomes more of a matte finish. Varnishing it makes it look like it did when it was still wet. This is one of my favorite moments in the whole process. Having completed all this work and allowed the varnish to dry, the icon is nearly ready for use. And icons are meant to be used. The rules for an iconographer specify what is to follow:

“When your icon is finished, thank God that His mercy granted you the grace to paint the holy images.”

then:

“Have your icon blessed by putting it on the altar. Be the first to pray before it, before giving it to others.”

A Labor of Love Revisited

So I've been absent from the blogging world for a while now. I have been hard at work completing commissions that I felt had to be done before I could move. I arrived in Idaho to stay for good last Thursday (I think... all these days are running together lately). It is a little after 4:30 AM here, and I just put down my brushes. The royal doors and the icon of St. John the Forerunner are done enough that I will install them tomorrow and then finish them more later (pictures to come at that point.

Tomorrow is a busy day. My family and Lisa's mother are coming over for Brunch. Then we have a rehearsal and rehearsal dinner in the afternoon because we are getting married this Sunday. I still can't quite believe this is all happening. I feel overwhelmed by the blessings in my life over the last year, and I feel so unworthy of this great a gift, and yet I don't often enough take the time to thank God for all that He has given me.

Well I am off to sleep, please pray for Lisa and I as we embark on a new chapter in both our lives, that it may be pleasing to God and for our salvation.

Christ is Ascended!

So I haven't been blogging much lately... It would seem to be a fairly consistent pattern with me. The icon above is the reason for my absence. I have been working long hours to get this done in time for Ascension. It is now done, but sadly will have to wait a little while for the installation. This icon took up almost an entire wall of my living room, and required me to use a ladder to paint the parts at the top. At some point I am hoping to finish assembling a video from all the still photos I took along the way. Anyway, I'll keep this short since I still have lots to do before my trip to Idaho next week, but I just wanted to wish all a Happy Feast Day and thought that this icon would be a nice way to do that.

Icon Workshop. Boise Idaho. June 9-13, 2009

I am pleased to announce that I will be teaching an icon workshop sponsored by Holy Transfiguration Antiochian Orthodox Church (Fr. Mark Fenn) in Boise Idaho. The class has been approved by and received the blessing of His Grace, Bishop JOSEPH. The class is open to all Orthodox Christians, Catechumens, and serious inquirers. We will be painting an 8" x 12" icon of the Pimen Mother of God:




If you might be interested in attending, please check out the brochure. (PDF format)

Or you can go straight to the registration form. (also PDF)

You can also pay the class fee online using google checkout here.

The class will paint this icon from start to finish, with all of the supplies included, and demonstrations of all of the steps necessary for completion of the icon. In conjunction with the class, we will be supporting the work of this mission parish, and reaching out to the community. Before the class begins, I will be installing two (maybe three) icons in the iconostasis of Holy Transfiguration Church. We will try to get press attention for this so that we can have the opportunity to speak to a larger audience, not just about iconography, but about the Orthodox Church. We will invite the public to attend a lecture at the completion of the class so that they can learn about how this sacred art reflects the theology of the Church. It is my hope that this class will be a blessing to the parish of Holy Transfiguration, and a blessing to the area as it will no doubt be a blessing for me and my fiancee.

If you are interested, please let us know. Or if you know of someone who would be interested, please forward this information, or send them here, or to my website.

A Labor of Love IV: The Paintening

So I finished the icon of Christ for Holy Transfiguration Church in Boise. I took a lot of pictures along the way, and I thought that rather than posting a bunch of pictures, I would make a little video. It's a little jumpier than I would have liked, and in the future I need to take a lot more pictures along the way to make it really smooth, but I thought it might be neat anyway. Perhaps at some point I will set it to music or something. I just didn't want to wait much longer or I knew I would never end up posting it... And below is a slightly more detailed look at the finished product.

A Labor of Love Part 3: Christ is Risen!

Christ is Risen!
Indeed He is Risen!

It's been a few days since an update. I have been hard at work painting even with Holy Week wrapping up and all of the festivities for Pascha. This is usually a difficult time of year for me. I am very busy with all of the services, especially since I have to chant at all of them. My duties with Parish Council have also added to the amount of work I have to do. And of course this is a busy time for commissions as well. Then this year I had an added bit of fun. On Friday about half an hour before I had to leave for Vespers, I lost my footing and almost sprained my ankle, but instead fell forward and slammed my sternum against the corner of a chair, slammed my arm against the wall, and my knee against the floor. Needless to say I was plenty sore by the time I was done with Church on Sunday afternoon. Now I am finally somewhat rested.

But despite all of that, I was very glad to have spent so much time at the Church celebrating the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Christ. On Saturday I was so moved by the thought that by Pascha of next year I will be married and able to celebrate the Resurrection with my wife. It has been a long time since I have been able to celebrate with someone that I love. My family has all moved away and none of them really go to Church much anymore, and I have felt this loss a lot over the years. There is something very sad about feeling alone when we are created to live in community and love. So I am very thankful that God has given this to me again, even if I have to wait a little bit longer.

Most of the time I was not in Church was spent with paint brush in hand. By Friday afternoon I had the faces finished, and the icon was looking almost done. Today I finished the lettering, all the rest of the trims, borders, and pinstriping, as well as the gold. It is all but finished now.

I still have to come up with something decotative to go at the bottom, and I am contemplating a painted pattern within the halos, but otherwise that icon is done. Tonight I started a drawing for the matching icon of Christ so that I can get started on that. But I had to try to finish the icon of the Theotokos because it is the same icon that we will be painting in the class in June, and we are going to use it for advertisements and brochures.

Now that I see it done, though, I am really starting to get excited about what this will look like when I am all finished with the other icons. I will be installing at least the first two when I go for the class in June. It should be such a big change from the prints that they have now. And everyone that Lisa has shown the pictures to has been thrilled. It makes me so happy to be able to do something nice for this group of people who has welcomed me with open arms and who will be my Church community soon.

A Labor of Love Part 2: Working for the Man

I love my job. I am so thankful that I am able to spend my days painting icons to proclaim the gospel, to teach the faith, and to beautify churches and homes. But sometimes I don't like my job. There is something about doing anything for a living that has a way of taking the joy out of the work. Lately I have been in a bit of a slump when it comes to painting. It is hard to motivate myself to start painting. It is hard to pinpoint why this is the case except that everything I have been painting lately has been a commission. It has been a while since I have painted something just for the joy of painting. It has been a while since I painted a subject of my own choosing based on a prototype I love, just because I feel drawn to it.

I can't express how wonderful it is to be working on this project. And that joy then carries over to my other work. Since I started working on this icon, I haven't gotten less done on my commissions, I have gotten more done. Work goes so much more quickly, so much more effortlessly when it is done joyfully. I wish I could say that each and every icon is a joy because it is the image and likeness of God in His servants that I am depicting. But sadly, I lose sight of that far to often. The daily becomes mundane, and we quickly forget. And this is the state of my spiritual life as a whole. Just when I learn a lesson, just at the point that I think I have my life on track, I depart from God with my mind, and with my heart. And it takes me some time to realize that I have strayed. And once I do realize this, it is hard to even remember which direction to move to get back. But all it really takes is to find a little time to focus on God, to rekindle that joy. As St. James says, "Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you."

This project is my way of drawing near to God in some small way. And with every little step, I know that God is running to greet me.

A Labor of Love, Part 1

I have come to the realization that I am not the most prolific blogger. For someone with as much time as I have to sit around and think, it should be much easier for me to spend a few moments of the day writing down something that I spent hours thinking about. But the truth is that most of the time I prefer to think my thoughts and then let them go rather than saving them for posterity. After all, some of my thoughts are best left forgotten. But it seems to me a shame to have this blog and not really use it.

So this will hopefully be the beginning of a series of posts which should go on over the next few weeks and months. Lisa attends Holy Transfiguration Antiochian Orthodox Church, a small mission parish in Boise, Idaho, and while she would very much like to be married in that Church because of her close friendships with everyone there, when she visited me in Pennsylvania she remarked that she would rather get married in my church because it is so much more beautiful with all of the icons that we have. I told her that I had a solution to her dilemma which was that I could make her Church more beautiful.

In all the years that I have been working as an iconographer, I have done a lot of work in Churches, but it seems like every commission has to match the other icons in the church. I have yet to paint an entire iconostasis because I keep getting work at established parishes. I am certainly not complaining about the work that I have been given, but part of me wants to do something from start to finish. So I have an opportunity to fulfill a little bit of a dream for myself, give a wedding gift to my future bride, and give a small Mission something that they could never afford (and I get a tax deduction out of it to boot...)

So a few nights ago I began the first icon for the iconostasis. It is an icon of the Pimen Mother of God, and in the next few days I hope to draw up the icon of Christ to match it. I have decided to document the work, and use it as fuel for my blog. The added benefit of that is that the people of the Church can check in and see what is happening. In addition, there are plans underway for me to teach a class on iconography (more details in the next couple weeks hopefully) from June 9-13 in Boise, and we will be painting the same icon in the class, so this will give me images to use in advertising for the class, and hopefully I can use this blog to get better coverage and fill up that class since part of the profits from the class will be used to support this parish that will be my spiritual home in a few months time.

My Life Lately

Once again, it has been a long time since I have posted anything. The truth is that while there is a lot I want to say, I have held back because most of it is about my personal life.

In late November of this past year, I received a message from an Orthodox woman named Lisa through a social networking site called Orthodox Circle. She wrote to tell me that she really likes my icons, and that we have some common tastes in music, movies, and books. She went on to tell me a little bit about herself, and asked a couple questions. Now normally I read messages from people and barely respond if at all. I might just send a little note thanking them, but rarely anything more elaborate than that. But she had taken the time to write quite a bit, and so I responded point by point to what she wrote, more out of a sense of obligation than anything else. She then responded again with more detail, more questions, and so I responded again. This continued for a while, and she would usually say something like "I am really enjoying our correspondence, and I hope it can continue." At first this was slightly frustrating. You see, I don't really like email. And our correspondence seemed more like a laundry list of information rather than a real personal exchange. And the other thing that made it difficult was that I had decided that I was not going to pursue a relationship. At 31 years old, I had concluded that God did not have a relationship in store for me, and I had decided that I would just accept that and stop letting it frustrate me. I decided this the day before the first email I received from Lisa.

As time went on, instant messaging was added to the emails, which was a little more natural, and helped me to see Lisa's personality just a little better. At one point we were talking on the catbox (or chatbox to the uninitiated) at desertcalling.com and she sent me a message telling me that I was a "kick in the pants" and that I should give her a call when she got off of work. Being shy and nervous about sounding like an idiot (I hate talking on the phone) I declined and decided that my time would be better spent working on a project I had to get done. But I continued with the emails and IMs.

In late December, Lisa put her feelings on the chopping block, and told me how much she liked me, and said that if I was interested, she would really like to expand our friendship. For me, this was a difficult decision. While I knew that I liked her, and enjoyed talking to her, I didn't really feel like I knew her well, and I was also wary of long-distance relationships (she only lives about 2000 miles away from me). Ultimately, I told Lisa that I was interested, but that I didn't know enough about her and that I had to proceed with caution. So the next time we were talking on IM, she asked me what I would like to know about her. So I started asking questions. this didn't go on very long before she asked me if I would want to talk about it on the phone rather than typing everything. So I bit the bullet and called.

I was a little worried that I would call and show myself to be an idiot. I was a little worried that she would have an annoying voice. I was worried that we would have nothing to talk about. What I found was that she has a lovely voice, and that she is so easy for me to talk to, and that she has an intoxicating laugh. And so 2 days after Christmas, I found myself starting to fall for this woman who lives almost on the other side of the continent. We spoke again on the phone on New Year's Eve, then a few days later, and we gradually started to talk for longer periods of time, and more often. It got to the point that we now talk on the phone for a couple hours a day.

Lisa had a trip to Pennsylvania planned for sometime after Christmas, and was hoping she could meet me in person during that trip. I was a little worried about meeting her, for much the same reasons that I was worried about talking to her on the phone. I agreed to meet her, but was anxious about it. As it turns out, the trip had to be rescheduled for mid-February. By about mid-January, February started to seem like a really long time to have to wait to see her.

By the end of January, I got tired of mouthing the words "I love you" at the phone after hanging up, and decided to tell Lisa how I felt about her. After a really wonderful phone call with neither of us wanting to hang up, I wrote a long email telling her how much she has meant to my life, and I told her that I didn't want another day to pass without telling her that I love her. The next day she told me how much that meant to her even though she didn't think she would be able to say those words until she met me in person. I felt a little saddened by that, but when she told me the next day that she printed out the email and carries it with her, it made me so happy to know that whether she said the words or not, I knew she loved me. It only took a few more days before she was able to say it anyway...

So the weeks leading up to February 13th were some of the longest weeks I have ever had. She only had 3 full days in Pennsylvania, but we tried to make the most of them. We were both so happy to meet in person, and were pleasantly surprised that the connection we had on the phone transferred just fine to our connection in person. On February 14th, being Valentine's Day, I had a present for Lisa. I painted her an icon of her patron saint, St. Elizabeth the New Martyr, and wrote a very long inscription on the back. She cried when I gave it to her, and then held it in her arms for most of that day. She gave me one of her favorite prayer ropes which I now take with me whereever I go. We had so much fun together that she almost missed her flight back home because we just didn't want to say good bye.

So then we waited. We continued talking on the phone daily (thank you Verizon for free calls between Verizon phones), and we continued emailing. On March 18th, I flew out to visit her for her Birthday which was on the 20th. I spent the first two days of my visit cooking food for her Birthday party to which she had invited her friends and family. It was a wonderful night for her, and for me as well. I was able to meet her dad, her aunt and uncle, her best friends, and most of the people at her church.

On Monday evening, I took Lisa to one of the nicest restaurants in town, where we had a delicious dinner. We then took a walk along the river next to the restaurant. I told her how much her love has meant to my life, how she was able to reach past all of the obstacles and barriers I had built up around my heart, and to help me to find love when I thought I never could. I then asked her to be my wife, and gave her the ring that I had bought that morning. Before I could finish asking she said yes.

I have never been happier in my life than I have been the past few months. She is sweeter to me than anyone I have ever known, and I feel so blessed to have her in my life. I know that God worked wonders to bring her into my life, and I am thankful for every moment with her. There are still many things to be worked out, not the least of which is the fact that we live in different states, but we are working toward a future life together, and we are both grateful to have found each other. Please pray for us as we work out the details necessary to make this possible.

Having eyes, see ye not?

Mark 8:18

When I was about 12 years old, I went to the eye doctor for the first time. I had been having trouble seeing the blackboard at school, and so I was past due for a pair of glasses. As part of my eye exam, I was shown a set of plates like the one above, and asked if I could see a number in each plate. Naturally I thought the doctor was crazy. Why would he show me a plate with no number in it and expect me to see a number? Of course my diagnosis of crazy doctor turned out to be wrong, and I was told that I was colorblind. Apparently the number 6 is in the graphic above, but I can't see it for the life of me.

At the time I was getting into painting a little, having watched just a bit too much Bob Ross on PBS. Knowing that I was colorblind meant that I had to find a spotter to help with my paintings. I needed someone to tell me if I was using the right color for things. So I turned to my little brother who was also my best friend at the time, and I would seek his advice. I would later discover that he was colorblind as well, and it would seem that he is even more colorblind than me. So I gave up asking his advice.

A couple years later I started studying iconography. There were a few missteps early on. When I first mixed Sankir, which is the base color for the face, I was a little heavy-handed with the green, and after hours of painting, I showed the icon to my dad, and he asked me if it was supposed to be Kermit the Frog or the Incredible Hulk.

It's been years now since I have heard a comment like this, and more often than not it seems like I hear people compliment me on the colors in my icons. I have to laugh a little because half the time I can't even see what it is that I've done. In times past I refused to tell people about my colorblindness for fear that no one would want to order icons from someone who couldn't see the colors he was using. But in recent years I have started to tell people about it.

Of course everyone likes to quiz me on what color shirt they are wearing, but once that novelty wears off, everyone wants to know how I do what I do without being able to see what I do. So I thought I would share a little of that. The first thing to remember is that tubes of paint have labels. This is very helpful to me. I have also spent a fair amount of time studying color theory. I not only know what happens when you mix yellow and blue (thank you ziplock), I also know what happens when you mix yellow and orange (a trade secret I am not willing to share). I can't necessarily see what happens when two colors are mixed, but I know what is happening. I know a lot about which colors are strong colors and which ones are weak colors so I can gauge proportions when mixing colors. I have also come to depend on technology to a certain extent. I will sometimes use the color picking tool in photoshop to see what color something is. Once I have done that I can try to replicate the formula using what I know of theory. But more often than not, I just paint. I don't think a whole lot about what color something is unless there is some particular significance to the color that is being used.

In the rules for an iconographer that I was given, there is a rule that states "When you have to choose a color, reach out to the Lord inwardly and ask His counsel." While I can't say that I always do this consciously, I don't think a lot about what I think would look nice. I prefer instead to pick a color without thinking about my preferences. An iconographer is supposed to be guided by the Holy Spirit. I have a hard time saying that my work is the work of the Holy Spirit given my struggles to remain prayerful and attentive, but I also know that there is nothing that I can do personally to insure that my colors will appeal to anyone. All the theory and practical considerations aside, there are so many times where I just can't see what I have done. I can't tell you how many times I have been asked what colors I used on something, and if I can't remember I usually can't even make an educated guess. So I am left thinking that the Holy Spirit must be doing something through my hand. And my prayer is that as I continue in this work, my influence will diminish and the influence of the Holy Spirit will increase.

For the arms of the wicked shall be broken

Psalm 37:17

As I mentioned in the last post, I told the Parish Council at my church an abbreviated story of how I returned to the church after a prolonged absence. I mentioned that I had written about this on my blog, and I was asked for a link to the story, but when I looked I realized that while I had talked a lot about my stay in the hospital in a previous post, I had not gone into details about what got me to that place in my life, or how it has impacted me since then, so I will try to go into more detail here now.

I've been Orthodox since infancy, and while most of that time I have attempted to be pious and good, I never really realized that I needed the medicine that the Church provides during most of the first three decades of my life. Piety and goodness seemed like enough. So I served as an altar boy, I sang with the chanters, I went to Sunday School, I crossed myself when I was supposed to, I learned to paint icons, and in all honesty, I enjoyed the Church, I just didn't feel like I needed it. And in reality, I have not been as good or pious as I appeared to other people, but I was good at hiding behind a facade that I created, and I didn't feel deceitful because I did like Church.

Because the Church was just a hobby for me, it was easy to drift away for a time, and to come back when I felt like it. In 2003, I worked on a very big commission that had to be done in a very short amount of time, and I found myself with a lot of money all at once. I took some of that money and I got myself a house about 35 minutes from where I had been going to Church. The house was a fixer-upper that I got for a good price. Since my neighbor was a friend of mine and a contractor, he did a lot of work on the house. He could only work on weekends because of his schedule, and so I didn't go to Church so that I could stay and supervise and help out. It was not something that I felt particularly guilty about because it seemed like it was an honorable and temporary reason to miss Church.

This went on for maybe a couple months. When the work stopped on the house, I had a new reason not to go to Church. I've always been a night owl, and the thought of getting up early in the morning to go to Church was in no way appealing to me, and now that I lived even farther away from Church it was much easier to just stay in bed and sleep in. Sure there was another Church five minutes away that I could have gone to, but I didn't really know those people, and I'd still have to get up early. So I gave in to my laziness and stayed home.

I stopped praying. After all, what is the point of praying when you aren't a churchgoer? Fasting seemed pointless as well. Even taking a minute to think about God would just make me feel guilty, so it was best to just shut that out of my mind. Truth be told, the one thing I didn't stop doing, which I should have, is painting icons. It was my sole source of income, and so I set about the technical act of painting while my soul was far removed from it. I have heard it said that the act of painting an icon is in itself a prayer, but if this is true, I tried very hard to not hear my own prayer. I am ashamed at what I replaced God and His Church with in order to fill my free time.

It is no wonder to me now that God's blessings seemed so far removed from my life during this time as I had run as far away as I could from Him. I ran out of commissions and had to struggle to find new ones, I ran out of money, and accumulated debt, when my car died I had no way to fix it or replace it, so I only left the house to walk to the store or when someone could pick me up. I felt depressed and alone, but I still didn't want to return to God because I thought I could still fix my situation if I could just think of how...

Then one day, I broke my arm. It was a particularly nasty break, and it required three days in the hospital. I spent most of that first night in tears reflecting on my life. A few years earlier I had felt like I had everything, and suddenly I realized that I had nothing. I had squandered everything. I never felt more alone than I did that night. I had not been to Church in years, I hadn't been to confession, and I was worried about going into surgery with my soul in the condition it was in. I felt like the Prodigal Son eating the food meant for pigs, covered in filth, alone, worried that I couldn't even go back home. I made up my mind that, like the Prodigal, I would return to my Father and say "I am no longer worthy to be called your son, but make me as one of your hired servants."

It took me several months before I got back to Church. I wish I could say that I was a transformed person that night on the spot. But this was the beginning. I was headed back along the road to my Father. During my journey back, I was checking the statistics for my website, and I saw that someone had linked an image from my website to a message board called Christian Forums. I followed the link and found that there was an Orthodox section on that forum. I spent a great deal of time reading things there, and learning things about my own faith I did not know. It helped to pull me along the road back to the Church even when I was tired and didn't want to keep walking. At Pascha of that year, I sat and watched a video of the Paschal Divine Liturgy that someone had linked, and cried that I could not be there.

It was not much later that I finally got a car again. The first opportunity I had I went back to Church, and I have been there as often as I could ever since. As if to welcome me back, I finally found my baptismal cross that had been missing for months if not more than a year the very day that I returned to Church for the first time.

Not long after returning to Church I was asked to start singing with the chanters again. I happily agreed because it is such a joy to me to sing in Church. A little while later I was asked to teach Sunday School. I was much more apprehensive about this since I didn't feel like I related well to 9th graders when I was in 9th grade, but they told me someone else would help me, and so I agreed, remembering my promise to be a servant. Last year I was asked to serve on Parish Council. This really frightened me because I had heard horror stories from my Dad over the years, but it was important to me to do what I was asked to do. I was nominated this year for Parish Council Chairman, and wanted so badly not to do the job that was set in front of me, but I know too well the many blessings God has given me, and so I accepted.

I am not a very good servant, and I don't know that I ever will be. But God accepted me back after I denied Him and sought to live my life without Him, and how can I ever repay Him for that? And He continues to bless me far more than I could ever deserve in this life. For every half-hearted attempt to serve Him and to serve others I have received more in return than I could have imagined.