Winter of the Soul

I am looking out of the open gallery door. We moved our pottery shop to the town centre a month ago. 
Tiny nutlets of birch seed occasionally rain down, captured in their brief flight by sunlight. Past the courtyard, in the distance, I can see the road into town. It's winding and pale in a haze of afternoon light. 

It's winter in the Snowy Mountains. In most of the world, winter is a time to slow down, take stock, sleep more, and internalise a little. In a ski town, summer holds that place instead. 

The lengthy preamble is a little bit of skirting around the thing I really want to say. 

If you are Russian Orthodox in Australia, or close to our community, you will know that we are in a Winter of the Soul. Recent events have compelled many to reach for their Psalter, or to reach for the phone and call a friend to share tears with. We rally quietly around those that are bullied and doxxed online, while not giving a jot of time to those that spread hate and fear. 

Our community is complicated. We live between the Western values of legalism and the justice system, and the eastern idea of eternity. My father rightly said that the legal system sees people as finite and expendable beings,  and not as the  eternal creations we are. We may win or lose on the stand but we will judged finally by Christ. There are those that will temporarily inherit material wealth on Earth, only not to make it to the Father's mansions. 

I was counselled not to pray for those that set snares to be caught in them instead. 

It is more fruitful to pray for the unity and the fellowship of our Church. 

We are called to love one another as Christ loves us. Even when we are let down by those shepherding the Church, we must also pray for them. 

The long nights of Winter are for our hearts to talk to Christ, who suffered, was tortured and unjustly crucified, and rose again on the third day.