Ordinary Saints - by Steve Robinson (substack.com)
I've just had the pleasure of spending quite a lot of time with Steve, along with a whole lot of old friends who are at this point just family members without blood relation. He saw us laugh. He saw us cry. We shared stories. He told us how to build a mission, and what worked for him. He had ideas we hadn't conceived of, including a couple that might be implemented shortly. Steve is now a part of that family.
The occasion was that we invited him to speak at Saint Patrick Orthodox Mission in Carrollton, Georgia. I won't recount how I got to know Steve online, but the short version is through his podcasts, blogs and later his social media accounts and Substack writings. As part of that, he spent the better part of the weekend with several of us. But before he came out, he asked our friend Deborah, one of the co-founders of the mission, if the choir would learn "The Troparion of the Mediocre Saint."
Of course we did. How could we not?
There were several problems with the request, the first being that Saint Patrick really doesn't have a choir, and the second being we didn't know the music. The second was alleviated when he sent us the sheet music and we realized it was Obikhod Tone 1, which we know like the back of our hand, having used it for years at Pascha for "O Come Ye, Take Light," and at the dismissal in Vespers for "Preserve O God." To alleviate the first, we gathered those of us who can and usually do sing, and we did what we had done for years and years, only using different words.
What is remarkable about this is not the hymn itself. That is obviously parody, though with a ring of truth. What is remarkable is how Steve sets it up. He talks about how the Church generally canonizes monastics, or bishops, or other remarkable people who did remarkable things. He talks about how very few married people are glorified by the Church. But he notes -- correctly -- that being recognized as a saint and BEING a saint are two different things. There are saints we know, because the Church has shown them forth. But there are saints we do not know, which is why we still celebrate All Saints Day the first Sunday after Pentecost. This Troparion was written not to mock the Church, but to recognize with faithfulness and love that the Church knows her own. God knows His own. And the fact that someone didn't make it on our calendar does not mean that person did not make it into God's Kingdom. The words of the Troparion are cheeky, but well stated:
By not cursing in rush hour traffic
Thou hast found the way to Divine contemplation
And by working nine to five at a mind numbing desk job for twenty years
To feed thy family thou hast broken the snares of the enemy
By not judging the people of Wal-Mart
Thou hast shown thyself to be an enlightener of all O pure one
Thou hast kept the faith even through the raising of teenage daughters
O holy husband and daddy Bob, entreat Christ God to save our souls
If you watch the video you will see me (singing bass on the far right) look at my youngest, who is singing alto in the choir, and my middle daughter, who is sitting behind her with my wife, at the lyric "raising of teenage daughters." All in good fun.
To be counted among the Saints by the Church, to be glorified in that way, canonized and placed on the calendar, is a great honor. But it is an honor almost exclusively reserved to those who do not seek it. In today's Orthodox world, a lot of emphasis is placed on looking, acting, talking, and interacting as Orthodox Christians, by which is meant an outward expression. At times it can feel more like a club than a family. Like people who wear similar clothing or share the same hobbies not because they are into that style or recreation, but because they want to belong in the same group. But in the Church, in the real world, often what our neighbor needs is not what we think "being an Orthodox Christian" looks like. Steve told us about caring for his elderly parents. And that involves choices. Do I clean and bathe someone who can no longer clean and bathe herself, or do I spend 30 minutes in front of the icon corner saying my prayers? Do I take dad to the hospital, or do I go to that service that was appointed this week?
Those are really clear examples. But there are other things, including work obligations, family obligations, taking care of friends in need, which also stand in the way of "the stuff" some folks think makes us Orthodox Christians. We should no more show forth those things to the world than "the stuff." Cosplaying the things of God is bad no matter what form it takes. But the point is, there are a lot more Orthodox lay Christians caring for elderly parents and helping friends who need help and taking the time to fix the sink than there are those who maintain a monastic prayer calendar and attend all the services.
Our beloved former priest, Father Andrew, once told me "everyone wants a ministry in the Church. Some folks want to go to the chanter stand or the choir while the chrism is still wet. Some want to be on a committee or the parish council. But nobody seems to want the ministry of taking out the trash and cleaning the toilets." All of those things honor Christ, and in equal measure. And while some of those "ministries" are more visible, there are downsides to visibility. The cassock sets me apart, but it is often heavy with the weight of responsibility that comes with it. To the extent that I have to be sure to stand a certain way, not make the sign of the cross in the wrong place, be sure to read the words correctly and sing the hymn properly, and know when those things are to be done. It also carries with it a lot of obedience, to a lot of people. I answer mainly to the priest, but I am also responsible to answer to the choir director, my brother readers, etc. There is no glory in taking out the trash. But no one is likely to give you problems about how you do it. Visibility has a cost.
Granted, this is also not an either/or question. We ought to maintain a prayer rule and go to as many services as we can, keep the fasts, celebrate the feasts. We are called to do that in community. And we ought to serve where we are called. My reservations about the weight of the cassock do not outweigh the responsibility I owe to the Church, having accepted it and been blessed by Bishop Antoun, of blessed memory, to wear it. But we ought not get wrapped around the axle trying to divy up those responsibilities either. Rather, we should let Christ find us as He pleases, whether it is in the friend who needs help or at the altar on Thursday night for a particular feast or at the chanter stand or cleaning the toilets. God is with us in all these things.
