Uh-oh, I'm reading again

Not that I don't ever not read, but I'm reading a book that's making me think, in the same way Fr. Schmemann's do. This is "Shouts and Whispers" a compilation of writers talking at a conference about writing and faith. I didn't expect much when I started it, since the first essay was from my old church, and reflected a lot of the mind-set I'd left when we converted.

But y'know, there are some real nuggets of wisdom and while I don't agree with a lot of the orientation the writers so far have been presenting, they're putting their points in ways that I have to think about and consider - and which make my fingers itch, which for me is the sign of a great writing book.

One essay, "Writing as an Act of Worship" by Elizabeth Dewberry, really made me realize something interesting. She was talking about writing being an act of faith, a prayer and an act of worship, how the doing of it with one's whole mind and heart and soul, in the same way Jesus commanded us to love God, broke open something for me.

In my old church, there was an unspoken but very firmly held belief that if you weren't "doing" something in the church - reading, singing, collecting the offering, bringing up the gifts, if you weren't active in some way, you were not really worshipping, you were simply taking up space in the pews. Given some of my states of mind on some Sunday mornings, I can't totally disagree with them. But when we converted, one of the things I learned very quickly (probably because it was actually taught, instead of people just assuming you knew this) was that that passivity, that standing around and staring at the icons, or the priest, or the reader, was actually a very active thing - you were supposed to be paying attention to what was going on, praying, in your mind, along with the priest, making the responses at the right time, with your mind and heart as well as your vocal cords, and singing with the choir. You were not, Father John, and several books I read told me, supposed to be praying your own prayers, thinking about tomorrow, dinner, lunch, coffee and a smoke (my particular temptations). You were praying and worshipping. Which led to some discussions among some of us who were active, like servers nad choir members, about what you were doing while you were singing. Were you worshipping? How could you when you had to pay attention to the notes, the director, the priest and the part of the service where you needed to be active and doing something.

Then His Grace, Bishop Seraphim, talked with the choir and readers when he vistited and addressed this exact issue. He told us that while we couldn't worship in the manner of the faithful, what we were doing was as much an act of worship as what the people were doing - no more and no less. Furthermore, we weren't supposed to let our minds stray to the service and go all airy-fairy and untethered from the moment - we were supposed to focus and do our jobs as well as we could, putting all of ourselves into what we were doing. Reading with our whole minds and souls and hearts and bodies - just the way Jesus commanded us.

And I've often wondered about writing - it's something that takes me out of myself - even now, with the blog, there's part of me that just isn't in the dining room - it's submerged in the words. It's even more acute when I'm writing fiction and a novel - I'm so absorbed in the world of the book it feels more real than reality. I've always believed very strongly that my talent is a gift from God, and like the servants who were given the talents while the master was away, it's my job to account for how I spent my talent - will I come back with twice what was given me, after having had years to learn, and grow and use it? Or will I slink back and hand God the little bit he gave, with nothing added to it? Well, I can no more not use a talent than I can stop breathing - so the question here is just how much return God's getting on his investment, not whether there will be any.

But I never really thought about my writing - my doing what God has told me to do (and He has, with no doubt in my mind whatever) being as much prayer as what I do before the icons every morning (well, most mornings). I'd worried about it, because I don't write overtly religious fiction - my fiction comes as it comes and most of it is definitely secular - except what slips in and underpins the story - and about that I have no control and no way of knowing just how much is from my faith and belief. I can't see it because I'm too close to it. That's very neat for me - that I can pray, as long as I'm using my talent to it's maximum, as long as I'm writing as honestly and truthfully as I can, and honouring the story and the Giver of the story by writing. Neat.

This is going to be a great book.