The chief of sinners.

November 16, 2007

In reading the Lives of the Saints, in reading half of God’s revelation to man in the Scriptures and seeing the splendor of the fullness of revelation  in His Church, in beholding, however blindly, the ineffable transformation of wheat and grapes into Christ’s Body and Blood, consumed yet never being consumed… only to direct my eyes shamefully, lustfully, and idly towards what will never profit my soul and only inflict darkness upon darkness onto her, shall these two eyes ever see again?

In hoping to taste of this divine miracle of which the world is not worthy, in chanting the Psalter and the Scriptures with both joy and contrition, in uttering a prayer which somehow arose into the sight of the Lord as incense, my wretched and outstretched hands as an evening sacrifice… in drawing this breath I take knowing that it alone is one more miracle which I’m not thankful for, only to exalt a dinner plate over the Lord, to make my god my belly and my hedonism my religion, shall I ever speak again?

In cupping my hands for Christ’s blessing, in signing myself with the invocation of the Holy Trinity, in venerating the relics of Saints who death could not contain and I cannot even partially emulate due to faithlessness and slothfulness, in working my hands through labors for the denial of sensory pleasures — only to turn and reach towards sensory pleasures, to vessels of impurity, arms outstretched to my idols, shall I ever lift a finger again?

In hearing that holy silence, in receiving the oral traditions of a faith I’m unworthy of, in listening to angel-inspired hymns of glory, in being attentive to sacred homilies as those of St. Isaac the Syrian, St. John Chrysostom, and spiritual lessons as those from the desert fathers — only to turn my ears towards vain and idle chatter, blasphemies, slander, rumors, and all types of embers from the flames of hell which even my tongue contains… shall I ever listen again?

Truly, I am a chief of sinners, and there is no good in me.


One Response to “The chief of sinners.”

  1. C.L. Mareydt Says:

    very contrite and humble … sometimes our soul becomes desperate to know that God will accept us …

    I once heard … ‘whenever we think on God, it is really God who has thought of us first’ …

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