Elissa takes a look at the recent Pew Research Center report on religious affiliation in the United States and speculates on some of the possible causes of the decline in Orthodox Christian believers.

How will we help our children find a respectful and good way to offer Orthodoxy to this world? Elissa emphasizes the importance of being able to articulate the Orthodox faith in emulation of the twelve Holy Apostles.

Rather than picture a perfect, established, normal Sunday school and try to fit yourself into that plan, maybe it's better to start by looking at what you do have and find a flexible, innovative way to make it work.

Elissa discusses how the parish and Sunday school can help support the family throughout Lent.

Sometimes, the God we imagine is not at all who He really is. We need to let our children see faith that is alive and real—which reflects the True God who exists apart from our imaginations.

The four Gospels offer different perspectives and even different stories on our Lord. Elissa uses this situation as the basis for a family retreat during Great and Holy Friday.

The Holy Spirit can be a difficult and abstract concept to explain to young people, so in honor of the feast of Pentecost, Elissa explores the story of the tongues of fire, as well as the prayer "O Heavenly King," to find ways to describe this most mysterious person of the Holy Trinity.

Elissa's co-author, Caleb Shoemaker, joins her for a conversation about their new book, Blueprints for the Little Church: Creating an Orthodox Home, discussing the challenges and benefits of bringing an Orthodox rhythm to the family.

Elissa talks with Alisa Rakich-Brooks, author of Let There Be Light, the first in a new series of Orthodox children's books, about how our children are experiencing the relationship between religion and science and steps we might take to frame scientific inquiry in an Orthodox light.

Elissa interviews Jenny Stasinopoulos, the Director of Youth and Young Adult Ministries at the GOA Metropolis of Denver about a big change she made this year at Camp Emmanuel. Perhaps we should all consider innovative ways to empower our kids to take responsibility for their own faith lives!

Elissa and her Tending the Garden of Our Hearts co-author, Kristina Wenger, discuss the nuts and bolts of their new book of daily Lenten meditations for Families and their ongoing Tending the Garden podcast, including how the meditations can be adjusted for use in church school classrooms.

Fr. Michael explains that the Church provides a context in which what has been good before can become better—more deeply understood, more sanely practiced.

Fr. Michael addresses disappointment—what it is and how we should deal with it.

Fr. Michael shares the song of the vineyard, from the Prophet Isaiah.

Fr. Michael discusses fear of, and love for, God.

"What enraptures us today determines how we will experience the rapture of the last day no matter when or how that takes place."

Fr. Michael talks about charismatic Protestant Christianity.

Fr. Michael concludes his two-part series on discussing the comparison between vocations: marriage, monasticism, and singleness.

Fr. Michael shares his thoughts, and St. Isaac the Syrian's thoughts, about theosis.

Fr. Michael shares an article about happiness he wrote for the Death to the World zine.

Fr. Michael shares about discernment. "We all have to begin where we are, with the limited ability and grace we have.... If we follow what we know, maybe God will reveal to us some of what we do not know."

Fr. Michael reflects on a recent public-transit pilgrimage.

Enjoying a spiritual mountain top? Walking in a spiritual valley? Fr. Michael talks about to even out the ups and downs of Christian life.

Fr. Michael compares the weather of Canada's Pacific Coast to spiritual life.

Fr. Michael shares a quote and reflections from Jim Forest's book, Living with Wisdom: A Life of Thomas Merton, "I find myself traveling to my destiny in the belly of a paradox."

Fr. Michael talks about the sin of becoming "too righteous."

Fr. Michael shares important things to think about in the quest for a spiritual father or mother.

Fr. Michael shares reflections from his presentation on Theosis at the Orthodox Institute, held this past weekend at Antiochian Village. This is Part 1.

Fr. Michael shares reflections from his presentation on Theosis at the Orthodox Institute, held earlier this month at Antiochian Village. This is Part 2.

Fr. Michael shares reflections from his presentation on Theosis at the Orthodox Institute, held earlier this month at Antiochian Village. This is Part 3.

Fr. Michael shares reflections from his presentation on Theosis at the Orthodox Institute, held earlier this month at Antiochian Village. This is Part 4.

Fr. Michael shares reflections from his presentation on Theosis at the Orthodox Institute, held last month at Antiochian Village. This is Part 5.

Fr. Michael concludes his reflections from his presentation on Theosis at the Orthodox Institute, held last month at Antiochian Village. This is Part 6. Here is a link to the written text of his presentation: holynativity.blogspot.com/2014/11/st-isaacs-three-degrees-of-knowledge.html.

Fr. Michael shares his concerns with the familiar "Poop in the Brownies" story and offers some positive alternatives to talking about purity with children.

Have you felt a lack of love from church leaders? Fr. Michael responds to a reader of his blog about a question related to his recent podcast about Abbess Thaisia: "I am struggling with much of the same issue in your excerpt posted from Thaisia in regards to discouragement with those in church leadership and a lack of love by those in the church."

One of the perennial struggles I have in the spiritual life comes from a form of pride that is lodged fast in me and manifests itself in an "all or nothing" attitude toward spiritual life and other life disciplines. It can take various forms in different arenas of my life, but it always follows a similar pattern. The pattern goes like this: I set a goal or rule or ideal for myself, one that I could easily achieve if I only apply myself a little. This goal could be a goal for work or for prayer; it could be a rule for conduct (such as how much computer time I will allow myself or how much and what I will or will not eat or drink); or it could be an ideal such as what a priest should look or act like. Any such goal or rule or ideal I set for myself I tell myself is reasonable and attainable if I only push a little, if I only apply myself.

Archimandrite Aimilianos of Simonopetra Monastery, in the first half of a transcribed (and then translated) speech called “The Progression of the Soul” speaks of stages to the beginning of the spiritual journey. Archimandrite Aimilianos tells us that strength really is about standing naked before God and before ourselves. Faithful application of strength and the power of the will is to deny our self-justifying delusions and unlike our forefathers and foremothers to step naked out of the bushes and to present ourselves to God without excuse, without prettying ourselves up first, embracing all of our weakness, all of our shadows, all of our inability and insignificance.

“This is the fiercest struggle, the struggle that resists a man unto blood, wherein free will is tested as to the singleness of his love for the virtues….It is here that we manifest our patience, my beloved brethren, our struggle and our zeal. For this is the time of unseen martyrdom…” What is this struggle that St. Isaac speaks of and how can it be overcome?

In one of his talks, St. Theophan speaks of the glories of life in a monastery and then he makes a the following statement: “Of course, many inconsistencies occur here, too…” Ah, there’s the rub. There’s the bit that throws us off, “many inconsistencies occur here, too.” And the saint says, “of course,” as though we should have never expected things to be consistent. But we do. We do expect things to be consistent and we are offended when they are not.

“So there you are on the heights, surveying the earth below and the sky above. Your intellect [nous] now begins to feel its freedom and wants to fly.” I enjoy reading spiritual literature from holy people in the Orthodox Christian tradition. I like it because I often catch glimpses of myself, of my own struggles and my own triumphs. In many ways, books have been like a surrogate spiritual father to me. However, there is also a great danger in reading books for spiritual guidance. Often—actually, just about always in my experience—the writers of spiritual books, especially the classical spiritual books of the Orthodox tradition such as The Ascetic Homilies of St. Isaac the Syrian, The Ladder of Divine Ascent by St. John of Sinai, and the the writings found in the Philokalia, these were written to be read by monastic men and women who have already attained to a high degree of spiritual life. They was written, we might say, for those who have already attained the foothills and have now set their eyes on the heights.

In 1851, an anonymous monk on Mount Athos wrote a book on prayer. The title of the book has been translated as The Watchful Mind: Teachings on the Prayer of the Heart. It is a book that I cannot recommend for most people because, like much classic Orthodox spiritual writing (the Philokalia, The Ladder of Divine Ascent, The Ascetical Homilies of St. Isaac the Syrian, to name a few), it was written for people pursuing the spiritual life, a life in communion with God, in a very specific monastic setting, a setting that exists in very few places in the world today, or some might say—indeed have said—in a setting that does not exist at all in the world any more. And yet, these texts are nonetheless compelling for us because they bear witness to a relationship with God, an intensity of relationship with God, that many people in the world today long for.

Many of us have had mountain-top experiences at one time in our life or another. We have had times when God seemed right there, so close that, at that moment it seemed like nothing to offer God everything, to sacrifice all for the sake of Christ. These mountain-top experiences, at least for me, are very few and far between. It is a kind of miracle when this happens. But like most miracles, it happens not so that we don’t have to suffer, don’t have to slog through the rest of life on the plains. Rather, God gives us these moments as signs, as encouragement to keep us on the way, as a foretaste so that we know what the coming main meal will be. But the wonderful experience of nearness to God soon passes and we find ourselves back in the world, back in the arena of our salvation, back now having to fulfill the promise of giving our life to God. On the mountain top it seemed that it would be so easy, but on the plains, in the mud and snirt (a Canadian term referring to snow mixed with dirt), in the messiness of the lives we actually live, giving our life to God is much more difficult and messy than we ever imagined it would be.

Over the past several months, I have been reading up on the Lord’s Prayer. Basically what I have been doing is reading homilies written by ancient and contemporary fathers (and in a couple of cases, mothers) of the Church. In the next few podcasts, I’m going to share some of the ideas about the Lord’s Prayer that I found most useful along with the connections that I formed regarding them.

The Orthodox Divine Liturgy presents an introductory phrase in the form of prayer—as is typical in Orthodox Christianity, there is the prayer before the prayer. It goes like this: "And grant, O Lord, that with boldness and without condemnation we may dare to call upon you the Heavenly God as Father and to say." Why is it a daring thing to say the Lord’s Prayer? Why is it daring to call God "Our Father in heaven"?

People sometimes flee the Church because they encounter abusive people or situations there. And yes, we need to love, minister to, care for and most of all be patient with those who flee the church because of the bad experiences they have had. But still, there are no Lone-Ranger Christians. We are not taught to pray to “My Father in heaven,” but “Our Father in heaven.” God is the God who sees. God sees our suffering. God knows what we have been through. And God wants us to find our safety in Him. But this safe place in God is not a place far away from the Church—after all, all you have to do is pick up a newspaper to realize that the Church has no monopoly on the abusive use of power. There is no place on earth to flee in order to escape the risk of being abused by people with power. There is no place on earth, but there is a place in heaven. And so Jesus teaches his disciples to pray, “Our Father in heaven.”

Fr. Michael shares his reflections on St. Isaac the Syrian's response to the question, "If, after a man has greatly toiled, laboured, and struggled, the thought of pride shamelessly assails him—taking occasion from the beauty of his virtues—and reckons up the magnitude of his toil, by what means should he restrain his thoughts and achieve such security in his soul as not to be persuaded by it?"

I had a conversation recently in which I couldn’t explain very clearly a comment I made several times, and as a result there was a certain amount of misunderstanding. I realize that perhaps many people have this same misunderstanding, and since it has to do with the Kingdom of Heaven, and how it “comes” or how we actually enter and live the life of the Kingdom of Heaven while we are still on earth, I thought that discussing this misunderstanding and how to overcome might be a good way to begin our discussion of “Let Your Kingdom come (as in heaven, so also on earth).”

What is the Kingdom that we are to pray come? In one sense, you can say that the Kingdom of God, or the Kingdom of Heaven in Matthew’s gospel, is the government of God: the fact that God is ruler over all, and the Kingdom of heaven is how God rules all. When we think of the Kingdom of Heaven as the government of God, then one wonders, “What’s to come? Doesn’t God already rule over all? Don’t the scriptures teach us this?” Well, yes and no.

It seems as though the nearer I draw to God, the farther away I realize I am. The more I realize, the less I understand. People sometimes ask me about certainty: “How can you be certain about your faith in God?” Honestly, I gave up certainty years ago. The only thing I am certain of is my utter dependence on the mercy of God.

Continuing in homily 42, St. Isaac gives us another warning. When you find unchanging peace, that is, when everything is going smoothly for you most of the time, then “beware: you are very far from the divine paths trodden by the weary feet of the saints. For as long as you are journeying in the way to the city of the Kingdom and are drawing nigh to the city of God, this will be a sign for you: the strength of the temptations that you encounter. And the nearer you draw nigh and progress, the more temptations will multiply against you.”