The Day of Elijah

It’s August 2, Saint Elijah’s day.  It’s a big holiday.  You should know about it. You are religious.

I hear the words over the long-distance phone line noise and sense an old religion vs. relationship tension building up like a stormy cloud.

How do I respond? How do I push down the defensiveness rising inside me with grace and dignity, despite feeling misunderstood and labeled. Squeezed into the cracker-box of religious expectations of following the rules I don' understand, adhering to rituals that lost their vitality.  

I want to say something that makes a clean cut between the myth and the truth.

The superstition and the Spirit. 

Human tradition and divine revelation.  Form and substance.

The religious syncretism and simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ.

Without offending the old saint (not that he cares!).

Without offending the long rich complicated history of the Orthodox Church.

Being true to the God of Elijah, true to myself, and respectful to the person on the other end of the line.

I admit I didn’t know a thing about St. Elijah’s day. I am clueless about much of the dates in church history.  Except, for, maybe, Easter. And I couldn't forget Christmas even if I wanted to. My kids wouldn't let me. But that’s about it.

 

For a person who sometimes I forgets my mom’s birthday (gasp!) or our wedding anniversary (double-gasp!!) there are worse things in life than observance of holidays or holy days .

But, even though I didn’t know about St. Elijah’s Day, I feel like somehow I do know the old prophet. I know him through the reading of the Scriptures.  And, sometimes,  I feel like I really know him, like I know my neighbor or a friend… or even like I know myself.

And this is the Elijah I know....