Its a picture of captivity. Why don’t I guard my soul as vehemently as I guard my body? Perhaps its because I just don’t know how valuable my soul is.

When Scriptures speak of Jonathan’s love for David the prophet, it says, “the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul” (1 Samuel 18:1).

So what does it really mean to love your own soul?

“Know O beautiful soul that you are the image of God, know that you are the glory of God, know then, O man, your greatness and be vigilant.” -St Ambrose of Milan

Sometimes we are blinded from this very greatness that St. Ambrose speaks of. We feel so human, in every broken kind of way. Our memory fades from the calling to which we received. We have unlearnt that we are made for greatness, by Greatness. Our minds haven’t quite descended into the depths of our hearts to know these truths.

“The more we get what we now call ‘ourselves’ out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become.” -C.S Lewis

If only we knew of the way God looks at you and me. It’s in the same way He looked at a shepherd boy—David—and saw in him a king. Each of us is in the process of becoming. Becoming beauty out of the ashes. Living in the dirt of our own sin, but destined to be butterflies. Perhaps living the resurrection just means being yourself, in the fullest way. Dark but lovely. No matter how dark we are, “God’s gifts and His call are irrevocable” (Romans 11:29). Not even an inch of darkness can out shadow the shine of your lovely.

“Like Michelangelo who looked at a rough, shapeless stone one day and saw a statue of David in it, Jesus was constantly looking at people in terms of what they can become. We may be defeated, degraded, soiled, enslaved by our pas­sions, yet through Christ we can be redeemed.”  -Anthony Coniaris

It’s in this knowing that we learn to guard our souls zealously. We learn to build the walls of Jerusalem because we know that deep inside there is treasure.

So, brush off the dirt and be ready to receive the promise of the Father.

“For you have need of endurance, so that after you have done the will of God, you may receive the promise.” Hebrews 10:36

The promise of the Father, the Holy Spirit, will bring to your remembrance all things. Remembrance of who you really are. We were made for worship, and every moment in our lives we are bowing down to something, so if in those moments we don’t see God, we are worshipping an idol. So allow Him to bring us prostrate before the throne of grace – let Him point us back home, back to where we belong.

“He is the source of holiness an intellectual light for every rational power’s discovery of truth, supplying clarity, so to say through himself. He is inaccessible in nature but approachable in goodness. He fills all things with power but only those who are worthy participate in him. He is not participated in all at once but shares his energy in ‘proportion to faith”. He is simple in substance but manifold in powers. He is present as a whole to each and wholly present everywhere. He is proportioned out impassibly and participated in as a whole. He is like a sunbeam whose grace is present to one who enjoys him as if he was present to such a one alone.” -On the Holy Spirit , St Basil the Great.

(Picture courtesy of Chartchai Yodsin)

There is something immensely enjoyable about shrinking your world down to a board with 64 checkered squares, 6 types of pieces, and just you and your opponents skill and experience.

Strategy, sacrifice, the pride of winning and the sting of defeat – the game has it all!

It’s so easy to play one game after another… after another (on chess.com you can instantly find someone to play with from around the world as soon as your current game ends). Pretty soon you are engrossed in wanting to get better – to get to the next level. The best portrait of this is Bobby Fischer who was arguably the greatest chess player of all time. I watched most of the recent movie about him, Pawn Sacrifice, but then my plane landed and I didn’t get a chance to finish it. I kept thinking about how determined he was and how there was nothing and no one who could stop him in becoming the world champion of chess. Eager to be proven right I found the following clip to the end of the movie:

I was right. He had won.

But at what cost? The footage at the very end is of the real Bobby Fischer.
Did you catch what he said?

“Chess is basically a search for truth.”

He had lived his entire life in pursuit of becoming the best that at the end of it all he ascribed the highest of value to a game. He worshipped chess. How many of us do the same? Maybe not with chess, but how many of us exchange the truth of God for the lie, and worship and serve creation rather than the Creator?

It’s so easy to become engrossed in seemingly harmless things to distract us from the present, from pain, from the struggle. But we can only meet with God in the present. We can only come face to face with the eternal in the here and now. What are the things that distract us from letting God perfect that which concerns us? What are the things that hinder us from carrying out the will of God for our lives?

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world. (John 2:15-16)

Do you want to be the guy who hits the snooze button several times (lust of the flesh) or the one who is eager to faithfully seek God out through prayer and reading His word?

Do you want to be the guy known for always flipping through his smartphone checking the ‘latest and greatest’ (lust of the eyes) or the person always ready to lend a helping hand?

Do you want to be known as the best chess player of all time (pride of life) or the best version of yourself – the best follower of Jesus you can be.

Be as those who,

use this world as not misusing it. For the form of this world is passing away. (1 Corinthians 7:31)

Put another way: Use this temporal world to lead you to an eternal God – not the other way around.

It is in the small victories that we prove to God that we are His.

Not many of us think we are living for money, fame, pleasure, and other trivial things that we ought to count as rubbish, but where is the proof? Where do I spend my time, energy, and money??

There is your answer.

May God grant us a spirit of repentance to turn away from worldly cares and carnal lusts and give us the grace to answer Satan every time like our Lord Jesus Christ did,

“Away with you, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only you shall serve.’”(Matthew 4:10)

(The picture is from the ‘Game of the Century‘ right before Bobby Fischer makes the ultimate sacrifice to go on and win the game)

How does this have to do with you and me, you ask?

Well Satan hates God and everything that has to do with Him, including us. Because we were made in the image of God, Satan loathes us and will do anything and everything in his power to destroy us with himself by keeping us disconnected from the Bridegroom of our soul.

This would be a cause for great fear if it were not for Him who is for us, who holds the world in His loving hands.

Satan may roar like a lion but he is nothing compared to the Lion of Judah. He may be the prince of this world, but he has to ask permission from the King of Kings and Lord of Lords before doing anything. Satan may even be able to transform himself into an angel of light to confuse some, but our God is the Unapproachable Light who enlightens those who seek after Him.

Satan is an expert at waging war against mankind and his tactics are ruthless. He has had many thousands of years of experience and the war against him should not be taken lightly. However, God has not left us alone and has even allowed this warfare for our salvation. What follows are four tactics essential in fighting the enemy:

1. Never Rely on Yourself

“Not to rely on oneself is so necessary in our struggle, my beloved, that without this, be assured, not only will you fail to gain the desired victory, but you will be unable to resist the smallest attack of the enemy. Engrave this deeply in your mind and heart”

The first step is to realize that your enemy is just too strong for you. Never ever think you are safe but always expect temptation until your last breath. One of the crafty wiles of the devil is to withdraw for a time giving you the false sense that you have overcome some sin after much struggle. Then, when you have let down your guard he attacks with such fierceness that your fall is so great you cannot fathom how it happened.

It is important to remember the words spoken to St. Anthony when he asked who could overcome the snares and traps laid by the enemy. “The humble” came the gentle reply. Pride is detestable to God so He will withdraw His grace if He sees our hearts lifted up in pride when we think it is we who have overcome in our own strength. We need accountability and vulnerability with those we are fighting alongside and those who are leading us if we are to advance on the battlefield.

2. Have a Perfect Trust in God

“Together with complete renunciation of ourselves, we should plant in our heart a perfect trust in God and a complete confidence in Him”

In addition to understanding we can do nothing of ourselves we have to remember the power, wisdom, and love of God. If we hold fast to the following three truths we can establish an unwavering trust in Him:

God is Omnipotent, or all-powerful, and can do all that He chooses. Therefore He has all the power to help us in absolutely anything.

God is Omniscient, or all-wise, and knows all in the most perfect manner. He knows fully what is best for the salvation of each of us.

God is infinitely Good and comes to us with ineffable love. He, as a Good Shepherd and True Father, is always ready to help us as soon as we run to Him with firm trust in the protection of His arms. Because He loves us with an incomprehensible love, we have to know and trust that He will lead us in all things for our good and for His glory.

3. Strive without ceasing

“War should be waged ceaselessly and courageously”

There is no rest on this side of eternity. To ‘take a break from God’ is to surrender to the enemy.

“So this spiritual warfare of ours must be constant and never ceasing, and should be conducted with alertness and courage in the soul”

Never stop crying out to God saying:

“rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me.” (Psalm 142:6)

Continue using weapons proven to work:

“Flog the foes with the name of Jesus for there is no stronger weapon in heaven or on earth”

Get up every time you fall with hatred for those things which ensnare you and for the love of sin which lingers in your heart. Never give up. Never surrender. Your General, your King, your Father looks with joy at your efforts. Your struggle for His Name brings sweet pleasure to His heart, and that’s worth fighting for.

4. Remain constantly in prayer

Prayer doesn’t come in one shape or size.

There was actually a heresy in the 4th century that was condemned because it taught, among other things, that the only way to salvation was solely by praying.

Prayer’s ultimate goal is union with God and there is no formula for that. There is only relationship. Here are a couple of points to drive the point home:

St. Peter of Damascus says:

The Apostle says, “Pray without ceasing.” That is, he teaches men to have the remembrance of God in all times and places and circumstances. If you are making something, you must call to mind the Creator of all things; if you see the light, remember the Giver of it… If you put on your clothes, recall Whose gift they are and thank Him Who provides for your life. In short, let every action be a cause of your remembering and praising God, and lo! you will be praying without ceasing and therein your soul will always rejoice.

We can indeed pray unceasingly if, in addition to saying prayers we become prayer. Paul Evdokimov writes, It is not enough to say prayers; one must become, be prayer, prayer incarnate. It is not enough to have moments of praise. All of life, each act, every gesture, even the smile of the human face, must become a hymn of adoration, an offering, a prayer. One should offer not what one has, but what one is.

You can practice the presence of God, sing and make melody with your heart to the Lord, serve the poor and sick for the sake of Christ, stand or even sit in silent awe at the excellence of His beauty, meditate on how great are all things that His hands have made, write or type out prayers, and talk with family and friends about His goodness.

These are all forms of prayer.

Do all things with the intention to please and love Him more, and not to please yourself. Do not approach Him out of a feeling of guilt as if you must talk to Him in order to relieve yourself of some burden. Let your heart yearn for Him! Be consistent and faithful in coming to Him because you want to.. because you get to.. not because you have to.

Let us ask Him to give us this beautiful and blessed desire to love Him and yearn for Him all the days of our lives.

So to review, the four things we can do the wage war against and overcome the enemy are:

1.) Never rely on yourself

2.) Have a perfect trust in God

3.) Strive without ceasing

4.) Remain constantly in prayer

With that being said though, let us remember the point of all of this: to grow in virtue, holiness and in the love of God. Fighting the enemy is not the goal; it is just a means to the goal, which is to grow in the knowledge of the love of God until we mature to the full measure of the stature of Christ.

“You don’t become holy by fighting evil. Let evil be. Look towards Christ and that will save you. What makes a person saintly is love.”

— St. Porphyrios

This post was inspired by reading Unseen Warfare. I highly recommend it!

(The photo is courtesy of Wildo Cagliani)

This was written by a dear friend.

Tell me your secret: Pornography, I’m still learning to love.

The lonesome curse of the introverted recluse, the unbearable shaming weight of the extroverted socialite: pornography, at its core, is our broken generation’s poor excuse for human love.

Everything around us is different. We weren’t supposed to look like this. In as much as technology has advanced mankind, it has also receded our humanity to an impersonal, self-loathing collective of isolated individualism. We weren’t supposed to look like this. Love wasn’t supposed to look like this. God’s eyes see an unfulfilled generation of victims. Yet, as these victims, we have more reason than ever to hope, to depend on a power far beyond our capacity to fight. As victims of our own circumstance, we have the greatest capacity of all – to make His power manifest through every fragile weakness that composes our form – a fragmented form of a most precious, most lovable and most loved humanity. Being independently broken down as isolated men through our own weaknesses, we are united together by our collective pain for each other, for God we rise and rise, and rise yet again. I have hope. I’m still learning to love.

At the start of it all

There are times when it becomes clear to me that a deeper secret and a darker need, deeper and darker than my shackling habits, is in fact the strongest link in the chains holding me down. It is at the start of it all. Shunning aside every burning pre-pubescent lust, every teenage egoistic urge for admiration, every narrow-minded adult’s desire to express masculinity, there he sits, the small lonely child in my heart, repeatedly demoralized by every manifestation of the pain of his rejection. At times I cannot look into the mirror. I see his green eyes, desperate and teary, insecurely staring into mine. Swiftly, I look away. It isn’t the shame of his glare that I hide from, it’s the fear. Fear that every repressed negative belief about myself is in fact true. Fear that the small, lonesome child inside of me is unloved and well and truly unlovable. Ultimately rejected even by the fantasies that barely uphold themselves, the fragments of lies amount to a firm belief. At times, I avoid even sitting in silence, in prayerful meditation, because all I can hear is the child’s desperate voice, begging to be loved.

He hasn’t met my expectations as the presentable young man he should have become by now, the one he dresses like and acts to be. He’s simple, a feeble soul, with a thorough and shaken vulnerability like no other; broken, seemingly like no other. Broken, so very, very broken. He was only a child when he first saw that one explicit image, yet before he could resolve the anxiety of the trauma, he began to crave it more. It became his most intimate, valued treasure. He owned it. It became my porn. Over the years, at times, through the confusion and the turmoil, a balanced vision seeps through, and the single prayer of the child that lies at the core of my struggles repeats itself – the prayer I subconsciously prayed before I even knew what sex was, before I was even conceived. “Dearest God, please give me a kind, gentle hand to hold, that is all I ever desire.” As a growing man, nothing changed much since the start of it all. Rummaging through the endless pictures and clips, the child within me fantasises about that pure loving hand that now looks so vulgar and warped, yet as a man starving for love, not knowing how to love, I both reluctantly and desperately cling to.

The despair that I often find myself in does not stem from a mere frustration at my repeated failures and my feeble incapacity for self-restraint, because I’m already mature enough to be cognizant of my own shortcomings, of the confines of my strengths. I already know that as a human I cannot be defined as just a creation, or even as an end-product of evolutionary chance, but that I am defined as a true understanding of my desires, emotions and ambitions, restricted equally by both reality and self-control. But that’s not it, though. There’s more and I know it. Deep down, I know that there’s a difference. This shakes me at the core of my existence. Not only do I find my deepest and strongest intrinsic drive for expressing human affection, passion and love unexpressed, I find it compulsively expressed towards a lie. I knowingly break off fragments of my valuable heart and hand it over to a phantom, only to see it fall through the formless illusion and hit the ground, dying and unfixable. I rock to and fro between the two extremes of conviction – passionately embracing the pseudo-love because it numbs the emptiness, then retracting back to the true emptiness, woefully regretting my indulgence that left me emptier than before. Past my bold masculinity and the insensitive jesting, past the hoarse-voiced laughter and the aggressive ambition, there’s a fragility that goes untouched for deathly fear of being destroyed. There’s an overprotected intimacy, spoilt rotten by the ever-fulfilled delusional need to be silent, to be cocooned in a mind that is far too afraid to be revealed.

And the cycles begin, the painful patterns that I draw in my mind. Like rivers flowing through the valleys collapsing into the ocean to their demise, the variety of reasons pave their way through the valleys of my thoughts eventually gravitating to the single pool of demise – a pornographic ocean. A vast, vast solution to every rejection, every worry, every anger, every hunger and every isolation of experience. Too thirsty to even believe in freshwater reserves – in a holy, fulfilling and fulfilled sexuality – I’m allured by the ocean that provides its illusive worth of an unquenching mass of water, it leaves me even drier and thirstier that before. And I hate it, I hate myself for allowing it to make me what it made me.

I hear the people sing, ‘no man is an island’, yet in maturing I became the dictator of the island of my mind, I drove out the interpersonal society that began to flourish inside of me and I pushed away the edifying exterior influences that should have thrived within. Soon, I became that very island that no man can survive as. I became a man on my own terms, I became a man on my own, nothing more than an aged, shielded iteration of that terrified child inside. The child that is far too terrified to risk the pain of rejection that comes in its infinite forms and retracted deep inside your heart since the start of it all. “The evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing” (Rom 7:19). If it doesn’t even make sense to myself, how can I expect it to make sense to anyone else if I was to ever tell them? So I hide it. What kind of a Christian, deacon, fiancé, husband, lover and father can look like I do? So I hide it from my family, from my friends, from my relationships, but I cannot hide it from God, so I hide myself from God entirely…

Recycling the cycles of guilt and pain

The first stage of dealing with my guilt, is embracing my problem for what it truly is. For that reason, I have referred to pornography as my porn. It is mine. As I child I owned it as my dark, vile treasure, now I own it as the very key to my liberation. My porn is both the chains holding me down, and the means through which my chains will be broken through the loving grace of God. He says that the truth will set me free. My ownership is that truth. His unfailing acceptance is that truth. My liberation from guilt is that truth. My honesty is that truth that will set me free. Henri Nouwen says,

“Self-realization…is the growing ability to allow the dark side of our personality to enter into our awareness and thus prevent a one sided life in which only that which is presentable to the outside world is considered as a real part of ourselves. To come to an inner unity, totality and wholeness, every part of our self should be accepted and integrated. Christ represents the light in us. But Christ was crucified between two murderers and we cannot deny them, and certainly not the murderers who live in us.”

As with most painful experiences in our lives, once we learn to look past the suffering, an opportunity for compassion arises. God leverages our suffering, even that which is self-inflicted, to open up our hearts to a greater absolute truth – that humanity shares an overpowering need to be loved. I have always wondered why we need to be loved, why we need to give love and to make it. God’s image, our very selves, reflect His same passion in giving and receiving back from us, that which is given to us of Himself. That is God within us. That is God in others, which is in so much need for expression. The hours of suffering that follow the hours spent with my porn are incredibly dark, but they are a dark window opening my heart to the sleepless night of pain of those around me. I hear the words of the Psalmist, “Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth…The ploughers ploughed on my back; they made their furrows long” (Ps 129:2-3). Oh, how they’ve made their furrows in me so very, very long.

In the same way that porn is the lustful sugar-coating to my deep need for love, those around me that seek to fulfil their own need for intimacy and love colour their own hunger in a rainbow of expression. As my brother who I love, I invite you to take that silent heaviness as a moment of heartfelt, powerful prayer lifted up out of your own pain for the widespread suffering of the world. Lift up a prayer. For the girl you once loved, who out of a desperate, frantic need for validation, preferred to be lusted over and fantasised about than to subdue to the terrifying risk of her commitment to you. For your friend who it pains you to see dressing and acting provocatively to entice men through her seemingly immoral desire for sex, who deep beneath her wanting, lustrous eyes, an aching sadness and a begging for acceptance is buried. For your closest friend, who amidst the heavy bitterness and the disheartening complications of his soul, couldn’t find it in himself to even smile at your success. For your aggressive friend, who rages and furiously seeks out his own, yet only rages for and furiously seeks out a deeper conviction that he is worth loving. For your father who couldn’t love you, who, because of his misunderstanding of your adolescent pseudo-resentment towards him, lost the capacity to love himself and lost faith in the very value of his own fatherhood. For your bitter and discontented grandfather, who through the years, lost little-by-little the very love he spent his life building his heart upon. Feel their pain and forgive, “for they do not know what they do” (‭Luke‬ ‭23‬:‭34‬). They do not know how much hurt their pain has caused. Feel their pain my brother, that is the same pain that you hide behind your smile. Only in our darkest hours, can we see that we’re so very broken too and our hearts become ever kinder by the searing pain. ‘When we are crushed like grapes, we cannot think of the wine we will become,’ Henri Nouwen.

Pray for the deceptively seductive rainbow of pain arching over the world, for you are no more than a fragment of the brokenness of this earth and our porn is the explicit visual realisation of that same reality.

This is the glorious blessing that your porn can bring once you embrace it as a warped definition of your humanity, as your deep and great capacity for love, as misdirected as it may be. It hurts only because you are so loving, so affectionate, and so caring – it hurts because it makes you see how truly isolated and closed off you are.‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

It’s time to share. But first, learn to forgive yourself. It isn’t your fault that your heart became so enslaved in these sexual perversions. Your fluctuating cravings and indulgences don’t change the truth about yourself. You’re still that pure child your mother raised you to be, the one who she taught absolute and unconditional respect for women. You’re still the protective brother who loves and respects every inch of his sister’s femininity and virtue. You are not your struggle. You are loved by God so incredibly deeply, not on the condition of an unfaltering purity, but by nature of your existence and for your persistent desire to return to Him, your Father, clothed in rags, smelling of swine, yet still the most valued, most precious, most beloved little child. ‘God said “Love Your Enemy,” and I obeyed Him and loved myself’ (Khalil Gibran). He says, “Yet I have set My King On My holy hill of Zion” (‭Ps‬ ‭2‬:‭6‬). On Christ you are established, “a city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden” (‭Mat‬ ‭5‬:‭14). Your light cannot be hidden. Though the hilltop lamp may flicker and be put out by the wind, “a smoking flax He will not quench” (‭Mat‬ ‭12‬:‭20‬). There is still hope in you. There is always hope in you. Forgive yourself and learn to love yourself as deeply as you are loved. You deserve far more than the self-loathing that only you impose on yourself. Listen to his voice “for the Father Himself loves you” (‭John‬ ‭16‬:‭27)‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬.

“But if you are a poor creature…- straddled, by no choice of your own, by some loathsome sexual perversion – nagged day in and day out by an inferiority complex…do not despair. He knows about it. You are one of the poor whom He blessed. He knows what a wretched machine you are trying to drive. Keep on. Do what you can. One day (perhaps in another world, but perhaps far sooner than that) He will fling it on the scrap heap and give you a new one.”
C. S. Lewis

Sharing is caring

“But You, O LORD, are a shield for me, My glory and the One who lifts up my head” (‭Psalms‬ ‭3‬:‭3‬). My glory is in God’s acceptance and protection, not in my own capacity to keep myself pure. There is no shame, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear” (‭I John‬ ‭4‬:‭18‬). On your journey learning to love a wholesome, perfect love, begin by letting go of your fears to let that love inside and to allow it to flourish through its ever-transparent and honest vulnerability. “It’s not easy. Fear will tell us all the many reasons not to share, all the reasons why we should hide. It is a scary thing to take your darkness and expose it, because what if no one accepts our dark? I’ve learned not to be afraid, not to be afraid firstly of my own dark, and not to be afraid of other people’s. Never forget the truth that you are more. You are more than your worst mistake. You are more than your shame. These words of your weakness don’t define you.” (Makrina)

By learning to be vulnerable, I’m learning to love. I’m learning to hand over to my fellow man, the depths of my fear and the dark reason for my inability to truly love.

Usually, it isn’t our own flaws that we present to others that repel them away, it’s the flaws that we desperately try to hide from them which creep out during our interactions with them that repulse them. It’s the masks we put on that we try to deceive them with that drive them further away from us. Unravelling the truth of our own weakness is never as abhorrent as unravelling the lie that hid it away.

Let him out

Once I came to the conclusion that my porn is my own, that it does not define me, that it’s a desperate expression to fill the love-less, isolated void in my heart and that sharing is the key to filling my void, and ultimately, my freedom, then came the time for inner resolution.

Call him out. Call out the terrified green-eyed child inside your heart and let him heal in Sun of Righteousness. Call him out and comfort him. With a gentle, newly-found understanding teach him little-by-little that love is not in the shadows, it is not his shameful, dirty secret, it is not a wasted fantasy, but a loud and sacrificial truth. Teach him to speak of his own pain and struggle, teach him that his vulnerability empowers his loved ones to feel liberated in their own struggles, to allow them to feel the pain that we all share as a broken humanity without fear of shame. When he’s hurting, teach him to hear His Father’s words,

“I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you” (Jer 31:3). Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool (Isa 1:18). I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance (Luke 5:32). I have come for you, my broken, hurting child. I have come so that you do not have to live as an island – isolated, ever-retracting and self-loathing.”

And the healing child inside you can reply,

“I am dark, but lovely (Songs 1:5). Why should I be as one who veils herself? (Songs 1:7) The king has brought me into his chambers (Songs 1:4). I’m healing by my shedding. I’m becoming vulnerable to become intimate. For God, I will rise, and rise, and rise yet again. Pornography, my chains and the key to unleashing my chains, I’m still learning to love.”

As for me, you may ask who I am. I am your dark past and your hopeful future. I am your father and you mother, who did not know how to teach you to love when you recoiled to the safety of your porn. I am your friend who you waited long for to hear my secret so that you can tell me yours, and that we can both grow in love and be free from our pain. I am your brother who was too anxious to give to you the gift of your own liberation. I am your future self – the loving husband who can be as honest about his weakness as he is about his strengths. I am your future self – the vulnerable and caring father telling his children about his struggles with porn, helping them learn themselves to love, to open up and to share their pain. In our shared pain, I am an embodiment of your hope.

I am a fragmented form of a most precious, most lovable and most loved humanity.

Pornography, I’m still learning to love.

Fragments of the tangible material, gently held in the beauty of the communal, stitched into the mystery of the Ethereal.

This is the anatomy of living; the inner workings of who we are.

We are more than dust and bones.

We are the imago dei, the image of the Divine.

But often life makes dry bones of us; we live as divided humans, one foot in the secular, another in the sacred. We fight to resist the intersect, and our lives become an internal struggle. We exist but are not alive.

Yet, to these dry bones He cries,

Live

Live

Live

For mere dry bones cannot bear the glory of God.

“The glory of God is a human being fully alive.”
– St Iraneus

Collectively Pursuing Wholeness

To be fully alive is to live in awe of the exquisite oneness that all of life is sacred. It is to thrive in the wonder of existence and tread knowing we walk on sacred grounds. It is to reject the notion that anything pertaining to “God” is more “spiritual” than romance, money, art, or any aspect of human life. We are made of material: “the matter from which a thing is or can be made, being of a physical or worldly nature.” Yet we are often stricken by guilt over our desire for the material, as if that desire defiles our godliness. With heads bowed in shame, we wrongly call for a division between all that is material and all that is godly. And in all this we disregard the truth that sacredness lies within the material. It is disguised within the everyday pedestrian life; it is in our houses, at our dinner tables, in our daily work, and in life’s adventures and travel pursuits.

Unashamedly Enjoying Beauty

To be fully alive is to live radically for the beauty in each other and in our own heart. It is embracing the sacredness of pulling off our masks to let our own stories swirl and unravel, allowing them to mingle with the stories of others – stories worth telling, stories worth pursuing. We are made for a communal life: “participated in, shared, or used in common by members of a group or community.” We are persons made for communion, made to struggle daily to show up and cultivate connection with each other. In our communion we are united by the brokenness that makes us one, so that in communion we say ‘yes’ to authenticity and vulnerability. There is sacredness in mindfully practicing hospitality of the heart, of inviting others into a safe, warm space where they can discover their true value and worth. Within the communal we celebrate one another, as lanterns that, only together, will brilliantly outshine the darkness.

Purposely Becoming Like Him

In the torn fragments of the communal and material, the thread that binds these pieces of clay together is the ethereal: “extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world; heavenly, spiritual.” We are a weak and fragile jar of clay, but still He chooses to set His treasure in this moldable vessel. We desire to respond to this call to live as His earthen vessel by seeking the treasure God has hidden for us in the day, to have eyes that see and ears that hear. We desire the eyes of faith that perceive the face of God in a stranger’s kindness, in the abused and the abuser. We desire the ears of faith that hear the voice of God in the sound of falling snow and the flutter of a bird’s wings.

Wrapped in our tale, we journey on into the inner universe of our heart. It is only there do we journey out of time and out of place, into eternity. Into the tale of its unfathomable depths, its caverns of dragons and lions, its secret locked doors, and its uneven rough paths to the entrance of our inner temple, the entrance to Love. Here is where Christ the King comes to take His rest, walking within, dwelling in and placing His Kingdom there. The inner kingdom present within is at the same time the Kingdom of the age to come. The place where we experience the love of God, which heals our every affliction, heals blind eyes to truly see the gates of heaven everywhere. To know His love is to know His face. To be fully alive is to live coram deo, before the face of God. In the communal and in the material, all faces are His.

We behold His face to become like Him.

This is the anatomy of living.

I liked it so much, I kissed many. I never believed in considering future consequences, only the here and now, only in the moment where my body lusted and craved another.

I believed in hedonism.

I was a lover of a sugar-coated world, biting deep enough to reach the salt beneath; left parched and bereft. But when invited to dine with the Divine, I counted up the cost and I conceded that He was worth it all. Because when you see the light, darkness doesn’t stand a chance. When you see the light, you cannot deny its existence.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, upon them a light has shined.”
Isaiah 9:2

We tend towards hiding our not-so-pure stories, locking them deep into caskets that no one may see or hear. We profess forgiveness like we do breathing, yet shame whispers “tell no one” and we trust its every word. In a community amongst those who testify to the living Word, Who is pure and holy, Who calls us to be as He is, we feel there is no room for our stories of grace. We see the awe in people’s eyes as they intently listen to testimony after testimony, whilst observing how the same story-tellers are not trusted, always on trial. So we sit in silence, hear stories like ours being called a disgrace, bite our tongues as people express the need to marry only a “pure” spouse.

Yet, forgiveness does not beckon silence. And grace does not hide away our past sins. Rather it holds each thorn up to the light and transforms them into pure white lilies, with each petal holding a unique story, not to be forgotten, lest the power of grace be forgotten.

There’s a woman whose story I know well. Or perhaps, it is she that knows mine. A nameless woman, yet not a faceless one, for I have seen her face countless times when I’ve looked in the mirror. The courageous woman on the sixth hour of Wednesday eve.

She can see the Man she came for. She had heard that Christ had come to the house of the Pharisee. It was not too late to turn around, forget it all, save looking foolish, call it a moment of insanity. Yet, despite any doubt, she feels her feet carry her forward. Ardent, panting and perspiring, she makes her way to the large inner chamber of the banquet weaving through all the people. She does not dare look up. She can feel the heat of their burning disproval on the back of her neck. She hears the steady hum of conversation dwindle to hushed tones of disgust and scandal as they recognise her. People are moving a safe distance away from her. She pays them no mind, her eyes locked on this one Man. She had boldly chased after many men, but none like this. The room is silent now as they realise Who she came for. Does she really have the audacity to come before this righteous Man who claims to be God?

She walks forward, with one thing in mind. Sharp inhale. She stops right in front of him. Without lifting her eyes from the ground, she quietly and slowly kneels and lets down her hair. Memories flash before her of all those nights she used her hair as a snare to seduce, remembering all those fingers that ran wild and passionately through them. Her vision blurs as her eyes pour. Thick, heavy droplets of regret fall to His feet. She remembers the words spoken to her, how it was always her eyes that drew them in and held them captive, possessing their own alluring power. The eyes that stained her life with sin, now moistened His feet.

She stammers. With no words to say she does the only thing she could; she washes His feet. She takes her trembling hands, the same vessels that fed the pleasures of men, cups His feet and holds the thick strands of her locks to wipe them. She wonders if she has crossed a line, but He does not stop her or move away. She was accustomed to desiring men, but never desiring their forgiveness.

She takes her lips, lips that eagerly sought and caressed bare flesh, and kisses His feet. The room breaks out in shock; horror and objections ring loud in the room. An exchange of mutterings, naming her immoral, worthless and irreverent. She feels Him staring at her but she feels no fear and no shame. The others see Him staring at her, in a way they haven’t seen Him stare before. His eyes glisten, there is warmth. She knows how it feels to be stared at by a man, a ravaging stare full of fervent desire, but this was not the same. She feels Him look right through her. She is known, for the first time.

She pulls out her alabaster flask, her costly jar of sensual pleasure used to arose her lovers. The memories race, the images flash. She forcefully pushes them away as she breaks the alabaster flask. Her tears mingle with perfume and she continues to wipe with her hair. She kisses and pours; impure lips become holy. The beautiful fragrance rises. He does not speak but she feels His radiating, pure love. She feels something unexplainable she has never known before. Is this acceptance? Is this what it means to belong? She lifts up her head, looks Him in the eye, and she knows; nothing will ever be the same.

Luke 7 has its ending, but I’ve always wondered what happens next. I think of her departure to her normal life after being told that she was forgiven and loved. I think of how she must have replayed that moment over and over again in her head, how she must have wanted to tell everyone, scream and dance because of how light she felt and how her heart must have burst with joy. That cherished moment she shared with Her Saviour will forever be theirs. I also think of the men who must have knocked on her door that night. All those men that kept knocking because they never believed that she could change. I think of years of learnt behaviour that was like second nature and all she saw from her former life when she closed her eyes to pray. I think of her walking back into her bedroom, those four walls that contained all her unchaste amorous nights, and trying to pray. To rise in the place that she fell.

For, redemption is no passive, tidy ideology. Redemption is real and redemption is messy, it is as messy as sweat and a bloody cross. And it is on that same cross that the proclamation was made, “Tetelestai,” confirming the end, it is finished, it is done. No need to walk with head hanging low, shame raised high, but walk joyously in the light. The light that beckons every soul; those who have given in to every single fleshly desire and all those who haven’t. Because the Light does not differentiate, it infiltrates every darkness; and darkness has no measure. It is that same Light that looks upon us with the eyes of compassion and gives us the assurance that,

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.”
Romans 8:1

Our belief in this truth is dependent solely on ourselves and not in other peoples responses to our former life, our own thoughts or the enemies lies. Our remembrance of our sexual sin can be crippling. We may be crippled by the way we once behaved; disregarding the holy in ourselves and in others. We may be crippled by the fear of falling back into old ways, and the fear of being too marred in the eyes of another. The taste of sexual pleasure is not an easy one to forget, and we may fear our longing for that same gratification. We may be haunted by the words spoken once on dark nights, or the daily glances that remind us of the power we possess. It is a life-long battle to fight, whilst holding tight to the truth that there is now no condemnation, and expectantly praying, “According to your good will, O God fill our hearts with your peace. Cleanse us from all blemish, all guile, all hypocrisy, all malice and the remembrance of evil entailing death” (The Liturgy According to St Basil the Great).

And as we pray this, may we approach the Eucharist, His own flesh and blood, just as the woman approached Him, offering every piece of herself at His feet, broken like the alabaster jar. She recognised Him not as an ordinary man but as her Saviour, yet we often approach Him as mere bread and wine, blind to the Majesty that pours Himself out before us. Let us walk repentantly, with fear and trembling, towards the Holy One and partake of the exchange of life that He offers, no matter what sin we laid with the night before, knowing that His love grants us the audacity to approach Him with confidence and being rooted in His Life, the mystical power to flee all other lovers.

So I will not be afraid to speak of my past sin, the desire of sin on skin, the Edenic memory of Adam and Eve’s freedom in expression and pleasure corrupted and abused. Because, this I know, forgiveness and freedom is mine, and though I am a woman of unclean lips, as my lips touch His feet, there is redemption’s tale to tell.

Let the fragrance rise.

Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a live coal which he had taken with the tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth with it, and said:
“Behold, this has touched your lips; Your iniquity is taken away, And your sin purged.”
Isaiah 6:6-7

This body
My body
A swift sword
A time bomb
Ticking
Cutting

This soft skin that curves around me
That frames and encompasses me
I have seen its unsurpassed powers
I have tasted its intoxication
Eyes wide open
To its irresistible magic

Hard to forget
Its delicious sweet nectar
Dripping subtle, potent poison
This body
Is not a body
But a weapon

Of charm and deceit
Of self seeking ambition
I waste in admiration and affirmation
I glory in attention and adoration
I am a queen
Fluent in Sensuality’s language

The power euphoric
The formula, tried and tested
A gaze and a flutter of the eyes
The control to summon and cast away
The siren song that calls your name
To shipwreck on the stones

And I howl
“Come, I will take away your pain”
To those that pant for it gladly
Like a dark mist
Leaving corpses rotten and defiled
Asphyxiating all breath, all life

So I numbed all feeling
Revelled in my conquer and rule
Sank my feet in my reckless storm
This body
Is just a body
Empty, hollow and cold

The more it consumes
The more it seeks to devour
This body is flames
A trail of dust in its wake
Nothing it touches will escape
Nothing is left standing

Least of all myself
This body is foreign
I do not want it
So I hide and cover it
Who can free me
From this body of death?

A stranger in this body of death
Dismembered from my lifeless soul
I feel my body’s betrayal
Under a man’s unrelenting gaze
I feel the poison flood my veins again
When their heads turn

I am reminded of the queen I could be
The thrill of control
I feel the rumbling and the stirring
Threatening to take over
Seduction is awakening
She is hungry from her slumber

But I will deprive her
Lay her down in silent, painful death
Bind her in burial cloths and dig a grave
Roll a boulder in front of the entrance
Scream TETELESTAI
For indeed, it is finished

Because I am not poison, I am not sword
And I wait on a promise like a thread
Keeping me from fraying at the edges
Of the God who calls out to dry bones
Giving life to sinew after sinew
The God who never fails those who wait

The God who wore humanity’s chains
To shatter our every chain
The God who rolls heavy stones away from tombs
And raises from the dead
The God who puts heavy stones down out of your hand
And says, “Live loved”

In truth, I believe that in Him
All the old has passed away
In the Spirt
I am finally liberated
The Veil torn
My face unveiled

He steps into my tomb
And when I look Him in the eyes
I see myself
He tells me who I am
Not thorn but Lily
He tells me Rise and live

I believe, help my unbelief.

Co-written with Sandra.

These words are for the women who are too afraid to speak out; you are not alone.

Silence is deadly. To let silence speak, is to let our souls fester. And festering souls are no resting place for the Presence of Him who is holy.

As women we oft evade His presence, fleeing the present moment. Our minds are wanderers into the future, intricately creating fantasy after fantasy, convincing ourselves that it is acceptable. We tell ourselves that our thoughts dishonor no man, and a thought is not sinful unless it leaves the confines of our mind and enters into reality.

Even the essence of our thoughts don’t seem to be always sinful, since they are not always sexual.

For hours we can ponder a life with that friend or stranger, how beautiful our babies could be and how good a lover he is bound to be. Within a minute, we are world-heroes, world-travellers and we have dated 5 different men.

In the words of Natasha Bedingfield,

“Trust me it would scare you
if you knew what was goin’ on in my brain
Trust me it would scare you
that I’ve picked out the church all the schools all the names…”

A day in a woman’s brain, would, most definitely, scare you.

St Isaac the Syrian said that it is a “greater miracle that a man can see his true self than the raising of the dead.” There is no light in our silence, there is light only in our truth. Our every attempt of denial, and our refusal to name our fantasies – lust – is to neglect truth. And the truth is, lust does not only take form in sexual fantasy.

As creatures of pleasure, lust is rooted in the thrill, of not only what may be forbidden, but what is not ours. Lust is not to be tamed, negotiated or bargained with; our minds and desires constantly rush ahead, racing to the next thought even as the current one is being consummated – all in pursuit of pleasure’s elusive satisfaction. A thought never remains as a single thought. It is an ever increasing drive for an ever diminishing pleasure. Lust will always keep you longer than you intended, drag you further than you anticipated and take more than you were willing to give. It plays for keeps.

Lust is the hours spent inside our own minds in uncontrollable imagination over any desire.

Lust is the fantasies we create to appease our emotional comfort, whether from the opposite sex or the same sex; even if our fantasies do not involve physical intimacy. Like the fantasy of a man stopping us from boarding a plane at the last minute to declare His undying love with roses, a box of love letters he’s been secretly writing for years and a song he wrote and composed just for us. But to live in a daydream is to live in a spirit of discontentment. As harmless as it may seem, we set ourselves up for unrealistic expectations that no man can measure up to and we waste the chance of taking moments seeking the God of all comforts in this dry, parched land.

Lust is an escape, a mechanism to cope with the realities where we feel stressed, inadequate, undesirable, bored or rejected; we turn to fantasy instead of seeking adventure and relief for our burdens in the only One who can promise pleasures forevermore.

Lust is a lack of trust that God is always good and we are always loved. It is the Isrealties, longing for the food in Egypt where they were slaves instead of having faith that the manna is enough and it could abound in sustaining their every need. It is determining that you know better, and this manna is not the best, so you take matters in to your own hands.

Lust is the time spent thinking of the ways you desire to be sexually intimate with a man; it is intimacy’s empty well, leaving you perpetually hungry for much more. It is the devil’s deceitful whispers that this is the God who deprives, demands impossible things and who takes away everything. Yet we must “consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls” for “unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain.” Lust plunders and ravages our life, yet Lust has never forgiven us; it never took nails in its wrists. So while Christ may ask of us our lives, He sacrificed His first. What is surrendered to Him is never lost.

Lust takes the form of gluttony; it is the continual greed for excess and in this world of excess, I am the king. Centered on what I have set my heart on, what I feel I deserve or what I believe I am entitled to; I neglect to cast my anchor down to the faithfulness of my Living Hope and re-center on Him, the true King. Though we exchange ourselves for God, He exchanged Himself for us, for our freedom from death.

Our lustful thoughts come so naturally, that to fight them strikes against our very comfort. The mind is a fierce battle ground and we are besieged. Lustful thoughts are a never-ending attack but in our control is the decision to fight. And this fight cannot be of our own strength, but through the strength and grace of Christ.

Resolved to stand firm, we must not numb the pain for “we have not yet resisted to bloodshed, striving against sin”(Hebrews12:4). Paul instructs us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17), for a mind that ruminates and fixates on its own desires and pleasures in fantasy, is a mind that ceases to pray.

“Why do demons wish to excite in us gluttony, fornication, greed, anger, rancour and other passions? So that the mind, under their weight, should be unable to pray as it ought; for when the passions of our irrational part begin to act, they prevent the mind from acting rationally.”
– St. Nilus of Sinai

Paul exhorts us to “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5), so however captivating the fantasy let us capture it in the net of His grace and “whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things”(Philippians 4:8).

So I must test my thoughts, assess each one, to find that which is true, noble, just, pure, lovely, of good report, of virtue and praiseworthy. But I know those thoughts are often few, and the reality is, pleasure drives my mind. As the disciples slept in Gethsemane, Jesus spoke to them,

“Watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
Matthew 26:41

Our spirits are willing, but our fleshy selves are weak, insatiable beggars. If a mind is not in prayer, it can reach anywhere, jump half-way across the world in pursuit of its favourite damp and musky prison cell of sin. “Watch,” He says; to be vigilant over the workings of our minds and the thoughts that walk through them. Watch, here and now because Christ’s presence is in the present. How will we respond to the knowledge of soul-festering thoughts? Will we let lust take home in our inner crevices? Will we expose those thoughts to the light and let prayer be our saving fortress?

Thoughts creep in more swiftly than they creep out. It is not with gentleness that they can be eradicated “for the kingdom of heaven suffers violence and the violent take it by force,” but with consistent vigilance and prayer. We need hearts ready for the fight, confessing a festering-soul state and a need for One who is merciful. Many who have gone before us prayed incessantly,

“Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy upon me a sinner.”

Humility is a realisation that we need to call upon the name of Jesus as often as we breath. Prayer builds the walls of Jerusalem in our hearts and minds and cements them until the stones cry out for our Saviour. Our minds cannot run empty, there is no moment where we are completely thoughtless, so this prayer recited habitually becomes grafted in our minds, replacing our lustful thoughts. We do not deprive but substitute. Because, every moment I live, I live bowed to something. And if I do not bow to God, I’ll bow down before something else. A prayer of the heart ushers us into reality. A reality where I must meet and accept who I am at this present moment. In a place where we can say with St Paul, “by the grace of God I am what I am.” A reality that has the stillness of heart to listen to His fantasies for me, and not my own. “As for God, his way is perfect: The Lord’s word is flawless; he shields all who take refuge in him.” Psalm 18:30

To pray unceasingly is to be in Christ. It is a sign of death of the flesh, a death to my will and a release of His Spirit in me.

In Him, I am white as snow, even if I stumble 7 times a day (or every minute.) If I cling to remember God’s mercy and this truth, that I am clean then I will be ever more cautious. For the clean can not tolerate a blemish. But if I let the accuser tell me I am the sum of my unrestrained thoughts, then I will become lazy, apathetic and slacken my efforts, for what is one more speck of dirt smeared on a canvas of black? Yet, you and I, we are canvases of lily white, washed in the blood of the Lamb, for He has “swept away your transgressions like a cloud, and your sins like a mist. Return to Me, for I have redeemed you” (Isaiah 44:22).

“Return,” He pleads. Must He wait much longer? Must I leave Him pleading? I thirst for lust, yet He thirsts for me.

There is hope. We are not alone, for He has not left us alone. Our eternal Rock; He is our motivation to be pure as He is, and our grace when we fall. 
So when my hand slips out of His, a thought wastes in me hours and I depart from prayer; I will take the hand of grace and rise again. I will take His hand though my hands are dirty, my wounds still bleed, my heart still fears and the shackles lying on the ground do not look as bad as they once were.

We cannot lie to ourselves and the world any longer; lust is not just every man’s battle, it is also every woman’s battle.

I will choose truth over silence.

May His love that is better than life satisfy our deep hearts.
May it purge away all lesser loves as fire to the dross.
May His presence be our joy, treasure and delight.
May you face the truth of your own darkness and call sin out for what it is.
May we fight for our purity together as we learn to be seized by a greater Affection,

In the Light…

Co-written with Sandra and Monica.

I’m reading Numbers for my quiet time at the moment (one of the best. books. ever. please dive into it if you’ve never read it before!) and as I started reading chapter 10 I prayed my usual pre-reading my bible prayer; something along the lines of “you know I’m here to meet with you. Please don’t let me leave empty-handed. PS I’m a bit stupid so you’re gonnna have to be very clear and very loud in what you’re trying to tell me”. The passage I read was Numbers 10:1-10, and it says:

The Lord said to Moses: “Make two trumpets of hammered silver, and use them for calling the community together and for having the camps set out. When both are sounded, the whole community is to assemble before you at the entrance to the tent of meeting. If only one is sounded, the leaders—the heads of the clans of Israel—are to assemble before you. When a trumpet blast is sounded, the tribes camping on the east are to set out. At the sounding of a second blast, the camps on the south are to set out. The blast will be the signal for setting out. To gather the assembly, blow the trumpets, but not with the signal for setting out.
“The sons of Aaron, the priests, are to blow the trumpets. This is to be a lasting ordinance for you and the generations to come. When you go into battle in your own land against an enemy who is oppressing you, sound a blast on the trumpets. Then you will be remembered by the Lord your God and rescued from your enemies. Also at your times of rejoicing—your appointed festivals and New Moon feasts—you are to sound the trumpets over your burnt offerings and fellowship offerings, and they will be a memorial for you before your God. I am the Lord your God.”

I don’t know why I stopped here, but I really just couldn’t move past this tiny little passage. I kept re-reading it and browsed the web to try and find Fr. Tadros’ Malaty’s commentary it so I can begin to understand what the Holy Spirit was hinting at.. The second I read the symbolism of the trumpets, it hit me. The trumpets in this passage resemble the Lord’s voice. Reading the passage now made so much sense, and had such a deeper meaning that I’d love to share with you.

I highlighted two verses in particular because they touched me the most. God is saying that His voice is the mighty trumpets! The one that directs and says ‘stay’ or ‘go!’. Verse 6 says “the blast will be the signal for setting out”; His voice warns and prepares us to move. And that’s what Lent is all about… this holy period the church has gifted us with reminds us to listen attentively to the One with the voice of ten thousand trumpets in order to help our starving Spirits gain strength and begin to lead our entire being, instead of our bodies. The community and leaders alike, they were guided by the sound of the trumpets. Just like today our entire Church, from all ends of the earth, is united as One Body while our spirits feast for Lent and eagerly wait for the voice of God to enter our hearts, saying “let there be light” Gen. 1:3.

In this moment I think of the brave, heroic 21 martyrs of Libya. How they eagerly followed the voice of trumpets. That voice that led them straight to His arms, straight to the One whom they set their hearts on. I really do believe that as they stepped foot in Heaven their guardian angels together with multitudes of Cherubim and Seraphim escorted them to the King of Kings on His throne with singing, music and sounds of trumpets, as they received their crowns.

My favourite verse in this small passage is verse 9; it says “When you go into battle in your own land against an enemy who is oppressing you, sound a blast on the trumpets. Then you will be remembered by the Lord your God and rescued from your enemies”. God literally answered my prayer as clearly and bluntly as possible. When any of us think of those sins that continuously weigh us down, we can run back to this promise. When the enemy is oppressing you, when he’s tempting you beyond belief or trying to encircle you and make you fall into despair, sound a blast on the trumpets! Tap into God’s voice and proclaim His promises to you out loud! Satan is already defeated, he’s already lost. Jesus fasted forty days and forty nights for you and I and now we all have access to His victory. O my soul, run to the One whose voice has already defeated the enemy. Run to the the One whose voice is the voice of mighty trumpets.

May we all learn to be attentive this Lent. May we listen out for the trumpet sounds and be willing to be led by them. May we conquer the oppressor through the voice of the One who has already defeated death.

There was something deeply wrong in me that He wanted to open my eyes to. Something that hurts Him and saddens Him. Something that needs to change, now.

“Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples: “The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. So you must be careful to do everything they tell you. But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach. They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.

“Everything they do is done for people to see: They make their phylacteries wide and the tassels on their garments long; they love the place of honour at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues; they love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and to be called ‘Rabbi’ by others.

“But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have one Teacher, and you are all brothers.And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one Instructor, the Messiah. The greatest among you will be your servant. For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Matthew 23:1-12

Hearing these words come from my Creator’s lips shook me. I knew He wanted to tell me something important. I re-read these verses and stopped to concentrate at each part to see what it was that the Holy Spirit wanted to awaken me to. Then I realised.

..I’m a Closet Pharisee..

I’m that Pharisee that Jesus Himself rebukes in this passage. I’m that hypocrite. Whenever I read the gospels I never like to find myself in the Pharisees – I’m always the blind man/ Samaritan woman/ one of the apostles/ the boy with the five loaves & 2 fish/ Jesus. But relating to the Pharisees? Associating myself with them? Erm no thanks. As I did my quiet time today though, I couldn’t escape that reality; there were no other characters in the chapter for me to hide behind and meditate on; no characters to cling onto but the Pharisees. I wanted the chapter to finish as quick as possible so I can move onto chapter 24 and not have to reflect on whether I’m a Pharisee or not. The Holy Spirit stopped me though. I felt something telling me to keep meditating on this passage.

In verse 3 Jesus bluntly says that the Pharisees didn’t practice what they preached. He tells to the crowd to obey them and do what they say but not what they do for they were hypocrites. That petrified me. What if Jesus says these words about me? What if I’m the real hypocrite? What if Jesus instructs others to obey what I say but not what I do because I don’t practice what I preach?… It’s so easy for me to say the right things, so easy to put on an act, so easy to create a spiritual persona that seems to be entering through the narrow gate. How foolish. How void. How fake. I think it offends God even more when I do that knowing full well that He sees and knows all things.
“Everything they do is done for men to see” Jesus says in verse 5. I highlighted that verse. If you easily fall into the sin people pleasing like me, this verse will resonate with you too. Everything they do is for men to see. Everything. Everything. What a scary thought; I could be living such a fake life that absolutely every action is performed with the motive of gaining people’s approval and attention – even my walk with Jesus. Disgusting. It really is. Idolising other human beings and putting them at a higher pedestal that God Himself, that I’m willing to fake my relationship with Jesus for a minute of their admiration and applause.

To the proud-hearted like myself, Jesus very clearly explained how to notice if you’re one of these Pharisees. Verse 6 says “they love the place of honour” followed by verse 7 saying “they love to be greeted and have men call them ‘Rabbi'”. Oh boy do I love the place of honour. Oh how my heart lusts for the moment when I’ll be greeted by others and have them praise me. As I read these verses trying my hardest to not relate to them the Holy Spirit reminded me of all the times I’d stood as a deacon/ in tasbeha so desperate, so eager to move up a bench. To have my voice heard. Acknowledgement. Applause. Glory. I was reminded of the times friends had complimented me on a gift that the Lord had so graciously bestowed upon me and how I twisted their godly encouragement into self-praise, eagerly feeding my pride. I was reminded of the times my heart leaped with joy because I was acknowledged by someone more popular than me. Though I feel ashamed writing these words, I thank Jesus with all my heart for opening my eyes to the rise of the old man within me. The old man, who in my case, is a big self-righteous Pharisee too.

If I skip to verses 25 and 27 I hear Jesus saying:

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence… Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.” What more can He say? How clearer can He get? Woe to you O my soul for you are full of hypocrisy. How easy it is for you to appear righteous and holy before men when from the deepest part of your soul, you worship Satan. How you run after him, sprint towards him, lusting for every drop of greed and self-indulgence that he supplies you with. I look at myself, look at the real me, and I question how I have the audacity to call myself a ‘servant’ in the church, how I can dare to dream of being a ‘leader’ when I continue to live as a Pharisee – clean as can be from the outside yet disturbingly filthy on the inside.

How often has your Creator longed to hold you in His bosom O my soul? How often has He whispered gently, spoken tenderly, screamed lovingly to you wanting you to wake up from your deep sleep?

I feel that verse 12 summarises everything the Lord awakened me to today; For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted. If like me, you really struggle with pride, and humility is this foreign concept to you that you know a couple of nice quotes on, change needs to happen now. We can’t live lives of Pharisees. We can’t continue to insult our Saviour because of our self obsession. And before we fall into the lie that we can humble ourselves, we need to repent, laying before the King of Kings and ask Him to grant us humility.

Abba Poemen said “as the breath which comes out of his nostrils, so does a man need humility and the fear of God.”

St. Peter of Damascus said “At the Last Judgment the righteous will be recognized only by their humility and their considering themselves worthless, and not by good deeds, even if they have done them. This is the true attitude.”

Wake up, O my soul.

Prayer for Humility:

Lord Jesus, I confess that I am proud. I’m self obsessed and I try to please everyone in my life but You. I’m so concerned with cleaning the outside of my cup to appear righteous before others yet I’ve neglected the inside and left it to rot. I’m a hypocrite Lord and I will never deserve your forgiveness. But I ask You to have mercy upon me Lord Jesus Christ and forgive me for You are gracious, compassionate and loving. As you met St. Paul on the road to Damascus and transformed him, transform me O Lord and grant me humility that I may please you every day of my life.

Grant me the humility which realizes its ignorance, admits its mistakes, recognizes its needs, welcomes advice and accepts rebukes. Help me always to praise rather than criticize, to encourage rather than to disparage, to build rather than to destroy, and to think of people at their best rather than at their worst. In Your name Jesus I pray, Amen.

I am a man because I am free to feel…

I am a man because I know my present actions affect my future as a husband and a father…

I am a man because I realise that I am insecure…

I am a man because I lay my insecurities before The Lord…

I am a man because I see that being a man isn’t about my social status…

I am a man because I’m not afraid to confess my many weaknesses to others…

I am a man because I recognise that not everyone will have the same opinions/morals/beliefs as me and that I choose to not let that disturb me…

I am a man because I choose to not joke inappropriately…

I am a man because I’m not afraid to stand up for my faith in The Lord Jesus…

I am a man because I will obey my parents as You command me to…

I am a man because I fear not the enemy…

I am a man because I recognise that it’s my duty and responsibility to show
unlimited attention and affection to my future wife…

I am a man because I try and obey The Lord even when I disagree with Him…

I am a man because I know I need God’s grace and mercy…

I am a man because I surround myself with friends that edify and correct me…

I am a man because I am a consecrated temple;
Your eyes and Your heart will always be within me…

I am a man because I know that unholy anger is for the weak…

I am a man because I believe that You alone determine my future…

I am a man because I will run back to you when I am overcome by lust…

I am a man because I’m in love with God…

I am a man because I choose to be loyal to my future wife from now…

I am a man because I know that I am called to be like a child to enter
His Kingdom…

I am a man because my security is in Jesus, not money…

I am a man because I acknowledge that it’s my responsibility to grow in knowledge of The Church and Her Tradition from now…

I am a man because I openly show affection and love to my brothers…

I am a man because I believe that what is impossible and illogical to me, is possible in Jesus…

I am a man because I know I have to lose control…

I am a man because I choose to recognise that being older than someone doesn’t make me wiser or more spiritual than them…

I am a man because I fight for my purity…

I am a man because I know it’s not ‘feminine’ to cry…

I am a man because I believe that Prayer is practical and powerful…

I am a man because I believe that You’re able to keep me from stumbling…

I am a man because I can be a living Gospel from my youth…

I am a man because I will not hide my sins, I stand exposed before You Lord…

I am a man because I love reading Your living Word…

I am a man because I will respect my elders as You obeyed me to…

I am a man because my bravery comes from You…

I am a man because I will not blame others…

I am a man because I recognise that good leaders don’t try and make others carbon-copies of themselves…

I am a man because I recognise that younger generations look up to me…

I am a man because I will choose to not involve myself with church politics…

I am a man because I will believe even when my eyes can’t see…

I am a man because I will view negative criticism and mocking from others as
my crown…

I am a man because I believe that I can do all things through You…

I am a man because I know that my walk with You won’t be easy…

I am a man because I’m artistic and creative…

I am a man because I pray for child-like faith…

I am a man because I want to only speak edifying words to others…

I am a man because I know that I am incapable but You are capable…

I am a man because I’m happy for others to be better than me…

I am a man because I accept Your chastening…

I am a man because I know that Jesus loves all people equally…

I am a man because I know that I’m a pilgrim on a journey…

I am a man because I recognise that true beauty is within…

I am a man because I am completely dependant on The Lord…

I am a man because I will not conform to the world’s definition of ‘manhood’…

I am a man because I intercede for those who still haven’t tasted You Jesus…

I am a man because I choose to not be afraid of change…

I am a man because I know that in You I am already successful,
no job in the world can ever provide me with true success…

I am a man because I am an empty vessel desiring to be used for Your glory…

I am a man because I see that women are equal to me…

I am a man because I was created in His image and likeness…

I am a man because I will preach Your name by my actions and words…

I am a man because I recognise that every girl is somebody’s daughter…

I am a man because I believe that Jesus is Lord…

I am a man in You, Jesus.