While attending a Divine Liturgy on Sunday is probably how most people first experience Orthodoxy, if you really want to get a feel for what being Orthodox is all about, attending one of the "other" services is the best way to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Liturgy on Sunday is wonderful and I miss it deeply when I’m not in attendance, but to truly begin to delve into the mindset of what Orthodoxy is all about, you must go to the “other” services.
Vespers is probably my favorite of all of the regular "other" services. The church is dim, with only a few candles here and there providing any light. The bulk of the prayers are taken from the Psalms, with a few sets of intercessory prayers in between, followed by prayers specific to the following day (for instance, verses about the saint who is being honored or the feast the is being celebrated). As is the norm for all Orthodox services, the entire service, all of the prayers of both the priest and the people, is chanted…no musical instruments other than the voices of the priest and the choir and the people. There is no sermon. There is no collection. The focus is solely on prayer and worship...as it should be. It has been the same service for well over 1000 years, and there is something about being surrounded by icons of the saints that really makes you understand that they are there with you, praying with you, waiting with you for the promised blessings to come. It is simple and solemn and deeply moving.
Which brings us to Great Lent. The first service of Great Lent, which we celebrated last Sunday, 9 March, is Forgiveness Vespers. It is vespers as usual, with a special “rite” at the end where everyone in attendance, one by one, goes to each of the other people in attendance and asks them for forgiveness. Not for any specific offence, but just a general “forgive me”. Forgive me for all of those times---and we each have had "those times"---when my thoughts or my actions betrayed the kind of person God intends for me (and for all of us) to be. When I thought to myself, "Why can't you make your child behave?", "Why don't you realize you're singing off key?", "Why are you continuing to talk to me? Can't you see I have to leave?", "Do you really think that shirt goes with those pants?", and on and on it goes, big and small things, none of which we are particularly proud of, all of which keep us from from the presence of God. And yes, I mean everyone asks everyone else for forgiveness. The priest asks forgiveness of each person in attendance. Adults ask forgiveness of children. Admittedly, it is uncomfortable at first, but at our service a remarkable thing happened. Asking forgiveness became a joyful experience. You would think that the mood at such a service would be reserved and depressing. Not so. There were smiles. There were hugs, and kisses on the cheek. It was a genuinely upbeat atmosphere. There is a certain joy in knowing that you're not the only sinner, not the only one in need of forgiveness, not the only one who messes up. And at the beginning of Great Lent, the knowledge that you're not the only one in need of 7 weeks of prayer and fasting is encouraging.
Then, on Monday through Thursday evenings, the Great Canon of St. Andrew is served during compline. In no other work will you find the intertwining of the personal need for repentance and the Divine promise of mercy and forgiveness. On Sunday we admitted that we are sinners to one another, and asked for forgiveness from one another. Over the course of the next four evenings, we take a good, long look at ourselves, knowing that even if we lie to ourselves, there is no lying to God. He already knows who we are---who we really are---and He is ready to forgive us; all that is needed is for us to ask. Going through the Great Canon reminds us of all of the ways, big and small, that the great figures throughout the history of salvation have sinned. We are forced to face up to the ways, big and small, that we sin in our daily lives. The Great Canon is not "warm and fuzzy". It is not comfortable. It is, above all else, unapologetically honest. It's a level of honesty with which we are, unfortunately, all too unfamiliar.
Finally, on Friday evening, we reach what will be our continuing source of comfort and strength through the course of Great Lent. The Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts is essentially vespers with a communion service. In the Orthodox tradition, the full Eucharistic Liturgy may not be served on the weekdays of Lent (with one exception--the feast of the Annunciation on 25 March). So, we partake of the Eucharist consecrated the previous Sunday during the Divine Liturgy. After admitting that we are in need of help, we admit that there is really only one place to actually find the help we need: Jesus Christ. Yes, we will need the help and inspiration of others, as we admitted at Forgiveness Vespers. Yes, we will need to help and inspiration of those who have fought the good fight before us, those we heard about in the Canon. But above all else, we will need the help of Christ. He will see us through. He will help us come to terms with our admissions of failure, with our honesty. He will help us drive out the demons inside us, those that can only be removed by prayer and fasting.
If we are to truly share in the joy of the Resurrection, we must truly and honestly come to terms with our need for Christ's Resurrection. It's not easy being this honest. Fortunately, God has given us the gift of the Church, reminding us through the services that the easy way out is really the way out of God's presence, encouraging us to confront ourselves, and supporting us as we seek to become that which we are intended by God to be.
