beginnings

Dear friend,

The first of March we celebrated Martisor here in Romania—the first day of spring. Traditionally women are gifted flowers and martisoare (little charms with a red and white string to celebrate the end of winter—or at least the beginning of the end). That morning all of my coworkers and I crowded into my living room for our monthly meeting, catching everyone up to the work of all of our various programs and projects, making plans for the coming months, and basically just checking in as a group. The room was full of flowers that had been given to all of the women on our team, we drank tea and juice and snacked on massive oranges and sweet buns from the bakery and I was filled with so much gratitude for these people that I not only work alongside but also live alongside. We are not merely coworkers but also dear friends, and seeing them all together in my living room on that first day of spring reminded me of just how rare and beautiful that is. 

Last week also marked the beginning of the Great Lent journey, these 40 days leading up to the Holy Week, culminating in the Great and Holy feast of Pascha (the Orthodox Christian Easter). The Sunday just before the Lenten fast begins is Forgiveness Sunday, a day in which Orthodox Christian’s are called to ask for forgiveness from their fellow men as a preparation for this season of fasting, prayer, and repentance. The Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America’s website explains why quite beautifully:

“Before we enter the Lenten fast we are reminded that there can be no true fast, no genuine repentance, no reconciliation with God unless we are at the same time reconciled with one another. A fast without mutual love is the a fast of demons. We do not travel the road of Lent as isolated individuals but as members of a family. Our asceticism and fasting should not separate us from others but should link us to them with ever-stronger bonds.”

I shared these words with a group of friends during our first Lenten meeting last Friday. In the past, a group of us, Romanians and expats alike, would get together for semi-regular meetings during the time of Advent to share what we were reading, listening to, and meditating on, and praying for during that season. This year we have decided to start meeting during Lent as well, and this first meeting also took place in my living room. It was a slightly different mix of people with some overlap with my coworkers, and I felt the same level of gratitude for all of them too. During our time together, this little group of Protestants and Orthodox alike graciously heeded my request to perform a small, informal ceremony of mutual forgiveness— something that is traditionally practiced in the Orthodox Church during a vespers service on Forgiveness Sunday. Different parishes will celebrate in different ways but one version has all of the parishioners asking for forgiveness from every other parishioner with these simple words:

“Forgive me”

“God forgives. I forgive.”

And so that’s what we did in my living room. We mingled around the room, we grasped hands with each other, we asked for and gave forgiveness, and then we hugged. It was, at least for me, very powerful. Of course it does not replace our daily practices of reconciliation and forgiveness, something that we must try to live year-round. But it does remind us that there are ways that we have wronged others that perhaps we aren’t aware of. It reminds us that even if we haven’t done anything directly harmful to our brothers or sisters, any sin that we have committed does harm to the whole world. We are asking forgiveness for not being the likeness of God in this world. And we are forgiving others for the same. We are all struggling on this path together. 

This is the heart of our faith: mutual love, mutual forgiveness, mutual reconciliation. I have glimpsed this miracle in many unexpected ways especially in recent years and I pray that God would grant us the grace to participate in this kingdom work in any way available to us. It is the way of our salvation. 

And so I wanted to say in this letter too: please forgive any grief or harm I have caused you through my words or actions or lack thereof. Forgive me. May we journey towards Pascha together in reconciliation and peace! 

With peace,

Xenia