Assembly 2008
A Personal Reflection: Indicators of the Future
Fr. Basil Zebrun

Change within any body or organization can be abrupt and may be accompanied by much fanfare. Then again it can often take place almost imperceptibly, over time. The former statement describes more the birth of our Diocese in 1978, when Orthodox joyfully received the news of Dallas being named the see of a new “entity” within the OCA. This year’s Assembly pointed more to the latter process mentioned, quietly indicating future changes for the Diocese, some of which may take a while to occur, but which offer much promise for the future.

Assembly 2008 was the 31st annual gathering of delegates and observers from around the Diocese and marked the 30th Anniversary of the Diocese of the South. A number of people from St. Barbara’s attended various events: Mr. Jared Rovny was the official delegate from our parish. For some, the Assembly was atypical as far as anniversaries go. There was not a great deal of public reminiscing or recalling of the specific examples and deeds of early Church leaders. Instead, and most importantly, one could sense the missionary fervor of early diocesan founders as delegates discussed the present and future challenges for a growing diocese.

The agenda for the Assembly included daily services (Vespers, Matins and Liturgies), a celebratory banquet, a Clergy Conference with Archbishop Dmitri and Archimandrite Jonah (Paffhausen), a Matushki Luncheon with His Eminence and Fr. Jonah, a Keynote Address by Archpriest Paul Lazor, a Lay Workshop by Fr. Stephen Freeman of Tennessee, a Roundtable Discussion on Building Programs featuring various priests, a Christian Education workshop presented by Matushka Christine Zebrun (assisted by our own Jeanette Pivarski) and a workshop on Church Finances by Fr. Gleb McFatter from Naples, Florida. Without going into detail about every aspect of the Assembly I would like to refer to some of the more telling indicators of the Diocese’s overall future, providing a personal interpretation.

Assembly registration began at 1:00 pm on Tuesday, June 24. A Clergy Conference was convened Tuesday night in the Cathedral with Archbishop Dmitri and the Abbot Jonah (Paffhausen) from the Monastery of St. John of Shanghai and San Francisco in Manton, California. His Eminence addressed the priests and deacons present and then introduced Fr. Jonah who spoke about clergy formation. The talk was beneficial, in and of itself, but the time provided an important opportunity for clergy to get to know the man being considered for Auxiliary Bishop for the Diocese of the South. His Eminence, and the clergy generally, seemed delighted with the abbot’s overall participation in the Assembly and with his words addressed to the faithful at various times during the three-day event. The Archbishop seemed very comfortable with the movement toward acquiring Fr. Jonah as an Auxiliary, confident that he can help further the growth of the Diocese. Very important, as well, was the overall reaction of the delegates present. More than once clergy and laity spontaneously proclaimed “axios” (“worthy”), recognizing Fr. Jonah’s talents and potential for leadership in this Diocese, as well as his desire to serve Christ. If Fr. Jonah is named Auxiliary for the D.O.S., the move should be a smooth one; the impact will be felt immediately.

On Wednesday night, after Vespers and dinner, the Archpriest Paul Lazor, Professor and Dean Emeritus of St. Vladimir Seminary and long time friend of the Archbishop, gave a presentation entitled, Mission and Evangelization: The Breath of the Spirit. Approximately 150 people attended the talk, including three professors from nearby Southern Methodist University. Fr. Paul’s delivery was engaging. His topic was chosen to highlight that which has characterized the main focus of the Diocese from the beginning, and to remind those present of the work yet to be accomplished.

Immediately after Fr. Paul’s presentation, Dr. William Abraham from SMU was asked to provide a report (from the University’s point of view) on the formation of a Pastoral School for the Diocese of the South. Dr. Abraham is a long time friend of the Archbishop’s and of St. Seraphim Cathedral and has been in talks with His Eminence about a local Pastoral School that would more directly address the needs of missionaries in the South. He essentially stressed that the University is ready and willing to share facilities and access to resources with students enrolled in an Orthodox Christian Course of Studies connected to SMU, and more specifically to Perkins School of Theology. There are those at Southern Methodist who are eager to have an Orthodox presence on campus -- in terms of both Orthodox students and professors -- and they would like to see this come to pass by the fall of 2009.

What makes these specific possibilities exciting from the Diocese’s perspective is obvious. It is hoped that the program will provide an affordable means of acquiring a quality education in Orthodox theology for all interested parties, not just clergy candidates. It will offer an opportunity for those progressing toward the diaconate and priesthood to study Orthodox theology and history while learning practices of non-Orthodox churches encountered in the South, for missionary purposes. In addition, the nearby Cathedral can provide services and a long-established community to which students may attach themselves, gaining parish experience and liturgical training. Southern Methodist University professors have also expressed interest in eventually having an Orthodox house for students near the campus. The possibilities that such a move would provide in terms of outreach and for spiritually enriching the lives of seminarians are enormous. The Archbishop and the Diocese are taking the process one step at a time, knowing that it will take a number of years for all prospects to be explored and implemented. If things continue to progress we may indeed have the “beginnings” of an Orthodox Course of Studies in the South by the fall of 2009. Time will tell.

In addition to the above, a record diocesan budget was passed by Assembly delegates: $876,873.00. An extended, development-needs budget was also approved, adding another $120,000 for an overall possible expenditure total of $996,873.00 for 2009. What adds to the importance of this and future diocesan budgets is that a minimum of 25% of the total budget will be allotted for assistance to missions with building programs and with specific plans for parish development. St. Barbara’s in Ft. Worth has been one of several recipients of this type of aid, especially over the past 2 years. It must be pointed out, however, that the assistance is not given as “charity.” In other words the 25% + available to help communities is looked upon as an “investment” in parishes that are moving forward and that have demonstrated a desire to grow and the ability to put plans into effect.

Using St. Barbara’s as an example: our membership has steadily increased over the years; we were able to purchase land and secure construction loans on our own; we designed and constructed a facility that will serve us well for decades to come; and the Diocese knows that we are progressing toward making the parish priest full-time as well as building a traditional Orthodox Christian temple. In the eyes of the Archbishop and Diocese, these are all positive signs. In addition, a report was compiled by the diocesan treasurer that shows St. Barbara’s as the 4th-highest contributor of tithes to the Diocese during the past 4 years, even though we are by no means the 4th-largest parish. All of this is to say that our community is viewed as a good “investment,” and that we must continue diligently with our tithes and pledges, knowing that every contribution made toward the work of the Church only increases our overall possibilities.

I would like to quote a visitor to this year’s Assembly who has been involved with missionary work in another Diocese, also known for its commitment to outreach and evangelism. This person, after looking at the vision of the D.O.S. and its commitment to growth as demonstrated by the financial reports, said, “I was and am proud of the work that we are doing with missions, but you, here in the South, are 20 years ahead of us.” This says a great deal about the future for the Orthodox Church in the Diocese.

And finally, I must refer again to the energy of the Assembly participants. We start each gathering with, “O Heavenly King, the Comforter, the Spirit of Truth…come and abide in us…” and the Holy Spirit’s action within these kinds of gatherings is unmistakable, in spite of our admitted sins and weaknesses. The delegates possess a specific focus and drive; they are aware of themselves as people with a responsibility, as “a people” consecrated for a particular task: to preach the authentic Gospel of Jesus Christ, to be living Icons of the One, True God. It was coincidence that the Assembly commemorating the 30th Anniversary of the Diocese was convened just before the Sunday of All Saints of America. The timing of the Council, perhaps, could not have been better, for we came out of this gathering and were immediately challenged to follow in the spiritual legacy provided by St. Herman of Alaska, St. Innocent and others. We were challenged by their example to come out of our “comfort zones” and to become incarnations of the Gospel so that, as St. Seraphim said, “thousands around us will be saved.”

“Wilt Thou Be Made Whole?”
Fr. Basil Zebrun

     
     As we draw near to the end of the Resurrection Season it may be helpful to reflect, once again, upon the Gospel lesson for the 3rd Sunday after Pascha, that of the Paralytic, John, chapter 5:1-15  (In her calendar the Orthodox Church numbers this as the 4th Sunday after Pascha, even though it is celebrated three weeks after the Resurrection). The healing of this man is considered by many people to be one of the great miracles performed by Jesus during His earthly ministry.  It is great because of the type of infirmity from which the man is delivered.  It is great because of the length of time he suffered with paralysis.  And the miracle is considered great because of the general circumstances surrounding it.  What are some of these circumstances?
 
     First, the miracle takes place at the Sheep’s Pool in Jerusalem, a location that is anything but hospitable.  The Gospel itself does not go into great detail about the area surrounding the pool, but one well known and devout Russian Orthodox priest – Fr. Alexander Men – assassinated in 1990, described it in the following manner:  “The Pool of Bethesda, (the Sheep Market), was a miserable, dirty place…From time to time the water in the pool was disturbed and people would crawl in, swearing, pushing and shoving each other out of the way, for whoever got in first benefited from the water’s healing power…This was a terrible place, a place rent with envy and hatred, with quarrels and the moaning of the sick.  Most people tried to avoid it…Everywhere lay the sick, groaning, contorted and foul smelling” (“Awake to Life,” page 72).
   
     Fr. Alexander Schmemann commenting on the plight of those gathered around the water – the horrendous conditions they endured – focused on the cry of the Paralytic, “I have no man…”  He stressed that, “this truly is the cry of someone who has come to know the terrible power of human selfishness, narcissism.  Every man for himself.  Looking out for number one…All of them waiting for help, concern, healing comfort.  But…each waits by himself, for himself.”  Fr. Alexander goes on to stress that, “from the Gospel’s point of view, this pool…is an image of the world, an image of human society, a symbol of the very organization of human consciousness” (Celebration of Faith, page 140.)    
 
     The fact that Jesus comes to this place of illness and death at His Own initiative is understood to be an act of great compassion.  Our Lord approaches voluntarily a place that others avoid, in order to identify with those who are suffering, to share in their sufferings.  This statement sums up Christ’s entire ministry, but it says something about our own calling as well. As Christians, in order to spread the Gospel, in order to serve Jesus by serving others, we frequently have to go to places and into situations that others would prefer to shun, to identify with those who need help, to share their pain and thus communicate love as given to us in Christ.         
    
     With regard to the story of the Paralytic one must highlight the miraculous healing properties of the Sheep’s Pool as pointing to the greater spiritual healing that comes to us through the waters of Baptism.  St. John Chrysostom expresses this belief in his thirty sixth homily on the Gospel according to St. John: “What manner of cure is this?  What mystery doth it signify to us?  For these things are not written carelessly, or without a purpose, but as by a figure and type they show in outline things to come, in order that what was exceedingly strange might not by coming unexpectedly harm the faith of the hearers.  What then is it that they show in outline?  A Baptism was about to be given (through Christ), possessing much power, and the greatest of gifts, a Baptism purging all sins, and making men alive instead of dead.  These things then are foreshown as in a picture by the pool, and by many other circumstances…”
 
     The liturgical services for the 3rd Sunday after Pascha also make the connection between the Sheep’s Pool and Baptism:  “Of old an Angel came down to the Sheep’s Pool and healed one man every year, but now Christ cleanses endless multitudes by divine Baptism” (Matins:  Ode 1 and Ode 4 of the Canon).
              
     The above descriptions generally reveal the Christian approach to all of Christ’s miracles.  They certainly have an inherent value for the time and location in which they take place:  they are occasions of joy, revelations of God’s love for His creatures.  At the same time, however, miracles indicate an approach to life that goes beyond an emphasis on physical well being. They point to the “wholeness” and healing, the new life given only through Jesus. 
 
     The cleansing that we receive through Baptism brings with it responsibilities.  Some see this as indicated by Christ’s inquiry, “Wilt thou be made whole?” or “Do you want to be healed?”  Once the Paralytic is healed his life will be changed forever.  The question is, when the miracle occurs is he ready for the extra responsibilities, the specific direction and Godly orientation that come with a new life? 
 
     This same question could be asked of each Christian with regard to anything that one does relative to the Faith.  For example, why did we joyfully submit to Baptism and/or Chrismation? Did we do so with the intention really to live as those who have died to this world in Christ and who have risen to a better life? When we pray, why do we call upon the Name of the Lord?  Are we prepared to do whatever the Lord directs once He answers our prayer? Why do we prepare ourselves to receive Holy Communion every week?  Is it so we can live according to the experience of joy and illumination given during the Liturgy?  Is our desire to respond in a proper way to the communion with God and neighbor given through Christ?  Do we read the Bible on a regular basis in order to draw closer to Christ, and to be taught by Him? Or do we read primarily in order to be able to out argue others?
     We need to remember our Lord’s parting words to the Paralytic.  He said, “Go and sin no more lest something worse befall you.”  A person may ask, what could be worse than being paralyzed for one’s entire life, having to sit in a dreadful place, ignored by everyone?  The answer: what could be worse is that a person lose his own soul for all eternity because he takes for granted the gift of grace given to him by God through miracles, through existence itself, and especially through the Holy Mysteries of Baptism, Chrismation, Confession, Unction, Marriage, Ordination, the Eucharist, through prayer and reading of Scripture. That type of neglect is far worse than any physical malady and its fatal results are of an infinitely longer duration. 
 
     In this respect the Paralytic received a double portion of compassion from Jesus. Some commentators point out that the Paralytic neglected to thank Christ for the healing he received.  That in itself is inexcusable.  But Jesus heals this man purely out of love (not in order to be thanked) and tries further to set him on the right path saying, “Go and sin no more…” 
 
     Christ does the same thing with us.  He knows that our response to Him in our lives will be minimal, at best, most of the time. He saves us anyway, however, and says, “In light of the grace and the new life that is given unto you, go and sin no more…”  “Don’t take for granted that which I give to you.” If we follow this directive we will find that we too like Jesus at the Sheep’s Pool will be empowered to go to many places and into challenging, even disgusting situations where others refuse to go.  We will be able to identify with those we find and lead them to Christ.  We will receive healing for ourselves as well.  “Wilt thou be made whole?”  The question is posed; the answer must be given by each of us, individually.  The benefits of such “wholeness” can be seen in those who have faithfully followed Jesus (especially the Saints), who valued above all else the new life found in Him.          

      (The preceding is an edited sermon given on Sunday, May 18, 2008.  Certain ideas were also borrowed from The Year of Grace of the Lord, pp 187-189, and from The Miracles of Christ, pp. 84-91, both published by St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press).

Doubting Thomas
Protopresbyter Alexander Schmemann

    In the Orthodox Church the Sunday after Pascha (Easter) is the Sunday of St. Thomas.  With that in mind during this Paschal season we offer the following transcribed sermon by Fr. Alexander.  Those who first heard these words were people living under communism in the former Soviet Union.  “Every week, for almost thirty years, Fr. Schmemann delivered a series of broadcasts over Radio Liberty to reflect upon and explain the meaning of Christianity to an audience deprived by a militantly atheistic regime of their freedom to pursue the spiritual search” (Fr. John Jillions)
 
     “Unless I see…I will not believe” (John 20:25).  So said Thomas, one of Christ’s twelve disciples, in response to the joyful news of those who had seen their crucified and buried Teacher risen from the dead.  Eight days later, as recorded in the gospels, when the disciples once again were all together, Christ appeared and told Thomas:  “Put your finger here and see my hands; and put out your hand and place it in my side; be not faithless, but believing.”  And Thomas exclaimed:  “My Lord and my God!”  Then Christ told him:  “You have believed because you have seen me; blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe…” (John 20:24-31).
 
     Millions of people today think and speak essentially like Thomas, and assume that this is the only correct approach worthy of any thinking person.  “Unless I see, I will not believe…”  In our contemporary speech isn’t this the “scientific approach?”  But Christ says:  “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”  This means that there is, and was, another approach, another standard, another possibility.  True, others may say, but that approach is naïve and not rational; it’s unscientific; it’s for people who are backward; and since I’m a person of the modern world, “Unless I see, I will not believe.”
 
     We live in a world of great oversimplification and therefore spiritual poverty.  “Scientific” or “Unscientific.” People use words like these all the time as if they were self-evident and self-explanatory, and they use them because everyone else also uses them, without reflection, without debate.  In fact, they themselves believe these reductions blindly and simplistically, and so any other approach appears to them as neither serious nor worthy of attention.  The question is already decided.  But is that really true?  I just said that we live in a world of great spiritual poverty.  And indeed, if the end result of humanity’s interminable development boils down to this pronouncement, “I won’t believe it till I see it”; if the human race looks upon this as the height of wisdom and reason’s greatest victory, then our world truly is poor, superficial, and most all, incredibly boring.  If I only know what I see, touch, measure and analyze, then how little I really know!  The whole world of the human spirit falls by the wayside, all the intuition and profound knowledge that flow not from “I see” or “I touch,” but from “I think” and, most importantly, “I contemplate.”
 
     What falls away is that realm of knowledge which for centuries was rooted not in external, observable experience, but in another human faculty, an amazing and perhaps inexplicable ability that sets human beings apart from everything else and makes them truly unique.  Even robots, machines and computers can now touch, handle and manipulate objects; they can make accurate observations, and even make predictions.  We know that they actually perform better than human beings in measuring, comparing, making exact observations flawlessly; they are more accurate, more “scientific.”  But here is what no robot, under any circumstances, will ever be able to do:  to be filled with wonder, to be awed, to have feelings, to be moved by tenderness, to rejoice, to see what can’t be seen by measurement or analysis of any kind.  No robot will hear those unheard sounds that give birth to music and poetry; no robot will ever cry, or trust.  But without all this doesn’t our world become colorless, boring and, I would say, unnecessary?  Oh yes, planes and spaceships will fly ever further and faster.  But where to and what for?  Oh yes, laboratories will conduct their analyses with ever increasing accuracy.  But to what end?  “For the good of humanity,” I’m told.  I understand, so this means that one day we will have a healthy, well fed, self-satisfied human being walking about, who will be totally blind, totally deaf and totally unaware of his deafness and blindness.
 
     “Unless I see I will not believe.”  Clearly, however, observable experience, empirical data, is just one form of knowledge, the most elementary, and therefore the lowest form.  Empirical analysis is useful and necessary, but to reduce all human knowledge to this level is like trying to comprehend the beauty of a painting by a chemical analysis of its paint.  What we call faith is at a second and higher level of human knowledge, without which, it can be claimed, man would be unable to live even a single day.  Every person believes in something or someone, so the only question is whose faith, whose vision, whose knowledge of the world corresponds more accurately and more completely to the richness and complexity of life.
 
     Some say that the resurrection of Christ must be a fabrication since the dead do not rise.  True, if there is no God.  But if God exists, then death must be overthrown, since God cannot be a God of decay and death.  Others will then say:  but there is no God, since no one has seen him. But how then do you account for the experience of millions of people who joyfully affirm that they have seen, not with their physical eyes, but with a profound and certain inner sight?  Two thousand years have passed, but when the joyful proclamation “Christ is risen!” descends as if from heaven, all still send out the same triumphant response, “Truly He is risen!”
 
     Is it really true that you neither see nor hear?  Is it really true that in the deepest part of your consciousness, away from all analysis, measurements and palpation, you neither see nor feel any undying, radiant light, you do not hear the sounds of an eternal voice:  “I am the way, the resurrection and the life…”?  Is it really true that in the depth of your soul you do not recognize Christ within us, within me, answering Doubting Thomas, “Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet believe?”     
 

The Cross of our Lord:
What Do “We” See?
Fr. Basil Zebrun

     (The following is an edited sermon delivered on the Sunday of the Cross, March 30.  We wish to share these thoughts in light of the fact that at the end of Holy Week, on April 25 and 26, we will pray and prostrate ourselves before the precious Cross and Tomb of Christ.)

     On the third Sunday of the Great Fast, the Cross of our Lord is placed in the center of the temple for veneration. The Church assumes, as do Saints of past generations, that the very sight of the Cross has great meaning for Christians and power to affect people’s lives.  One is reminded of the example of St. Mary of Egypt (a former prostitute) whose life changed radically because she desired to enter the Church on a feast of the Cross to gaze upon the Life giving Tree.  Believing in this power of the Cross, the Church places it before us ceremoniously every year in the middle of the Lenten season.  It is presumed that the very sight of it, adorned and venerated, will be a source of hope and inspiration for the faithful to continue with the ascetic struggles of the Fast.

     In light of these assumptions we can ask ourselves, “When we look at the Cross of Jesus Christ, what is it that “we” see?”  “What do I personally and spiritually glean from gazing upon the Life giving Tree?”

     (A.) According to our Faith, perhaps the first thing that should come to mind is that the Cross is a sign of joy; of victory.  It is “the” instrument by which God has saved us.  Through the Cross, Christ has trampled down death by His death.  From the Cross comes life. Thus, Orthodox Christians unashamedly preach Christ crucified. (1 Corinthians 1:23). We unashamedly put the Cross forward as “the symbol” of Christianity.  We place it “in” our Churches, “on” our Churches, we traditionally construct our Churches in the form of a Cross, we adorn our homes with Crosses, wear them around our necks, and we make the sign of the Cross in prayer. The Cross appears everywhere as a reminder of the offering Christ made for the sake of the world.  Fr. Thomas Hopko has stressed that, “the Cross says everything to us about God and our very existence”  Fr. Peter Gillquist, in a homily given at St. Seraphim Orthodox Cathedral, emphasized that making the sign of the Cross is a way in which Orthodox Christians “glory” or “boast” in the Cross of Jesus, taking their cue from St. Paul (Galatians 6:14).

     For these reasons the Orthodox find it surprising when believers attempt to disguise or diminish the Cross, either in religious art and architecture, or while preaching.  I recall seeing once a very large, beautiful church constructed in such a way that a forty foot Cross adorning its entry way was hidden in elaborate brick work, visible only when viewed from the correct angle at the proper time of day. One may also refer to the example of a very popular Southern preacher who has come under fire recently from fellow Protestants because they cannot discern the message of the Cross in his preaching.  The Orthodox Faith, however, has never separated the message of the Crucifixion from the proclamation of the Resurrection, either in Jesus’ life or in the life of His disciples. The Cross grants to us joy, victory and life.  

     (B.) What else do we see gazing upon the Cross?  God’s love, most definitely; His infinite love for creation.  Jesus said to His disciples, “Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for His friends” (John 15:13).  Not only did our Lord teach about sacrificial love. He then proceeded, voluntarily, to offer His life for the world. 

     Bishop Kallistos Ware has written that the Cross reveals, “the victory of suffering love,
…         (that) the Cross shows us a love that is stronger than death,” stronger than sin, more powerful than the forces of evil and the corruption of this world (“The Orthodox Way,” pp. 80-81). When we think of God’s love a number of acts come to mind: the creation of the world, man fashioned in the Creator’s image, the miracles of Christ, God’s total identification with us in the Incarnation, as well as the many spiritual and earthly blessings our Lord provides. All things considered, however, God’s love (and His glory) are most fully revealed when Christ appears weakest; when He seems to be a failure; when He looks defeated upon the Cross. At that moment He voluntarily experiences first hand, out of love, the depth of human despair and agony.  And, at that moment it is not only the physical pain and death that are crucial.  Many individuals focus on these, in verbal and artistic descriptions of the Crucifixion.  Just as significant and even more terrible is the inner anguish Christ felt, knowing the loneliness and isolation from both God and man that people experience because of sin. Here we must stress that Christ assuredly was sinless, but He took upon Himself all of the consequences of sin, even identifying completely with those who feel that God is absent. 

     One of the great “mysteries” of the Cross is this specific bond between Jesus and His fellow man; for how could Christ submit to an experience of isolation from the Father when He Himself “is” God?   Logically it defies explanation.  Nevertheless, we see this mystery declared by our Savior when from the Cross He cried out with the words of (Messianic) Psalm 21/22: “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?”  The Psalm continues, “O My God, I cry out by day, but Thou dost not hear Me.” 

     The real misery and torture He also endured when rejected by men is expressed in a number of verses: “But I am a worm, and not a man; a reproach of man and despised by the people.  All who see me mock me; they speak with their lips and shake their head, saying, “He hoped in the Lord, let Him rescue him; let Him save him since He delights in him.”  “For many dogs surrounded me; an assembly of evildoers enclosed me; they pierced my hands and my feet. I numbered all my bones.  And they look and stare at me.  They divided my garments among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots” (Psalm 21/22: 7-9; 17-19).  Orthodox Christians hear this Psalm quoted repeatedly during the services of Great and Holy Friday.

     Humanly speaking, Christ’s love upon the Cross is tested beyond comprehension. Nevertheless, all of the forces of satan and of this corrupt world could not force Christ to sin; they could not rob Him of His love; they could not lead Him to blaspheme His Father or any human being for the situation in which He found Himself.  Christ accepts all the consequences of sin and even enters into death for us, but nothing could make Him transgress or steal away His compassion. Thus, Christ’s death becomes a “victory” because it is without sin, offered in love. “It reveals a love that is stronger than death.”

     (C.) This leads to a third aspect of the Cross that should be evident.  Briefly stated, the Cross is a constant reminder of the world in need of salvation. As a sign of God’s boundless love, it also makes clear the depths to which man has fallen; he readily kills the only Source of life and enlightenment. 

     (D.) Finally, the Cross reveals a “way of life” that we have chosen, a life that Christ has already lived.  “Whoever desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me” (Mark 8:34; from the Gospel reading of the Third Sunday of Great Lent).  We have voluntarily chosen this path, and Christ’s victory upon the Cross becomes our victory as we learn, first hand, the power of suffering love.

     In this regard it is good to keep in mind what Bishop Kallistos says about love
and hatred:  they are not only “subjective feelings” affecting the inner man, but also
“objective forces” that impact the world around us. His message, basically, for our
purposes is this:  if I give-in to the temptation to hate people and to retaliate for wrongs committed against me (whether real or imaginary), I can negatively affect people and situations around me by my hatred and/or indifference.  On the other hand, if I choose to love people, I may help them to become more loving because I myself become a presence of “Love,” choosing not to sin.  No matter what others may do to me I can choose, by God’s grace, not to give-in to the forces of evil, following Christ’s example. That “cross” then, which I take up, becomes in some small measure a “life creating” cross with the power “to change,” deriving such strength from our Lord’s Own sacrifice.  

     These thoughts help us to understand in a more profound way such teachings as:  “love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in Heaven…” (Matthew 5: 44-45).  Jesus gives us these commandments first, because adhering to them is the best thing for us. If we would “find ourselves” as creatures fashioned in God’s image then we must emulate God Who is kind to the just and unjust.  Secondly, however, by taking up our cross, by loving those who are evil, we become in some sense a saving presence of Christ Himself.  Our Lord’s commandments have this possibility in mind.  We are reminded here of the prayer at the end of every liturgical service: “Most Holy Theotokos save us.” The Virgin Mary – because of her purity and faithfulness to God – reveals most perfectly this potential for all human beings.  And, if this potential exists for us in our little corner of the universe, imagine the “objective power” of Christ’s Cross and suffering love. 

     For us, though, it is enough now to reaffirm that the Cross is a sign of joy, victory, love and glory, and to reaffirm that the Way of the Cross has a life giving power that will be known by us and others if we do not diminish, run or hide from it, but embrace it as did St. Mary of Egypt and so many Saints before and after her.  (Some of the ideas expressed were taken from The Orthodox Way by Bishop Kallistos Ware, published by St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press).

Life and Death

Father Basil Zebrun

     The weekend of February 9 and 10, 2008 was very emotional for our parish, and unique when compared to the life of most American churches.  In addition to the usual schedule of Saturday and Sunday services, parishioners took part in the baptism of James Wingerd, son of Zachary and Lindsey Wingerd.  These family members had belonged to St. Barbara’s, but now attend the St. John of Damascus Mission in Tyler, Texas where they reside.   
 
     During the same two-day period we celebrated memorial services for the newly departed servant of God, George Alkhazaschvilly.  George fell asleep in the Lord on Thursday, February 7.  At the family’s request, and with the Archbishop’s blessing, the main funeral service was conducted on Sunday evening. George’s body rested in the center of the Church for twenty four hours, from Saturday evening (just after the baptism and Vespers) until the conclusion of the funeral.  He was a founding member of St. Barbara’s and much-beloved by the community. 
 
     The diverse liturgical rites celebrated these two days were indeed emotional and evoked questions by some people.  On the one hand joy was clearly expressed by all as the child of God, James, was baptized, “in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit;” as he was, “sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit,” through chrismation; as he was made by God’s grace, “a consecrated vessel, a child of the light, and an heir of the Kingdom.”  On the other hand we experienced great sadness, tempered by hope, as a friend was laid to rest, the choir singing, “with the Saints give rest, O Christ…” and “Memory Eternal” (1 Thessalonians 4:13).  The contrast and range of feelings could not be greater.  Add to this the fact that during the Sunday morning Divine Liturgy – a joyful service of thanksgiving and praise – George’s coffin lay open as is the tradition in Orthodoxy.
 
     On the surface, it may have appeared that the community was on an emotional roller coaster, touched deeply by very different, yet seemingly unrelated, events. On another level, however, the eyes of faith were able to see their profound connection. Basically, on that particular weekend we were being powerfully confronted from all sides with the story of man – life and death, corruption and salvation, the tomb and resurrection – in one forty-eight-hour period.  We participated in the rebirth of a baby, but we experienced the end of another individual’s earthly life.  We celebrated a child’s death and resurrection in Christ through the waters of baptism; then over the body of George we proclaimed that Christ is, “the resurrection, the life and the repose of (His) servant who has fallen asleep…”  We witnessed the transformation of James as he became a citizen of God’s Kingdom here and now, yet, during the funeral, we affirmed that the faithful who “have gone to their rest before us” are also citizens of that same Heavenly Kingdom.  
 
     For some, that act which may have evoked the most questions was an open coffin during the Sunday Divine Liturgy.  The practice of having the deceased in the Church during other kinds of services, though, is not unusual in the homelands of Orthodoxy.  For example one book on the Russian Orthodox Church contains photographs that show a coffin in a Church during the wedding of a young couple.  In “Awake to Life,” a collection of sermons by the popular Russian priest Alexander Men who was assassinated in 1990, the good father addresses his congregation during the Liturgy on the Sunday of the Prodigal with these words, “we are now approaching the Lent fast, but in addition we are constantly approaching our own death. Today we have a dead man among us in church; the dead are with us almost every day.  They remind us that, sooner or later, we shall also be lying here.”  In addition, a Divine Liturgy with an open coffin in the center of the Nave is traditionally part of the funeral process, celebrated usually on the morning of the burial. 
 
     The point to be made here is that Orthodoxy understands and affirms powerfully--in Her theology, worship, and in the lives of the saints--the relationship between life and death.  We are born only to die physically at some point in the unknown future.  We know that.  Death is the result of man’s sin and is an inevitable experience awaiting us all.  But in Christ that final act becomes an ultimate witness to the Lord’s victory over corruption and the forces of destruction.  He (or she) is alive in Christ even though an individual may physically lie dead in the Church.  The life now experienced by our brothers and sisters who have “gone to their rest before us,” is a continuation of that same abundant life given to them at baptism, chrismation, marriage, and in the context of the Divine Liturgy when they partook of the Body and Blood of Jesus.  That is one reason why the Liturgy is part of the Orthodox burial process: we who are alive on earth maintain communion with the faithful who have departed this life. 
 
     In a sense, for the Orthodox to have the dead present during the Liturgy, or even at a marriage or baptism – should circumstances make it necessary – is not out of place at all. In what has been called a death-denying culture, one which also denies the value of a traditional, authentic Christian life, talk such as this would be viewed as madness, or at the very least, strange. But one must remember that in Christ there is no “strict separation” of the living from the dead, the Church Militant from the Church Triumphant.  Hence the many prayers to the saints offered by the faithful, and the presence of a multitude of Icons in our Churches depicting the “cloud of witnesses” which surrounds us (Hebrews 12:1). 
 
     On Sunday, February 10, George was at home, surrounded by his friends, family and all the saints during the Eucharist, enveloped by his loved ones and the heavenly hosts during the funeral.  These same disciples encircled the newly-illumined child James at his baptism.  The Orthodox Church of St. Barbara in Ft. Worth was given a precious gift on that particular weekend:  the opportunity to declare in the most vivid way possible that Christ truly has “dominion over both the living and the dead.”  We were given the chance to pray and reflect upon the power of Christ at work in His people. 

Individualism: Society and Church
At times our society is described as “individualistic,” one in which people feel isolated from their neighbors, in which personal agendas and aspirations are of paramount concern, taking precedence over the priorities of any specific group. It is said that individuals, more and more, tend to look at issues solely in terms of my needs, my privacy, my choice, and my rights, almost to the exclusion of responsibility for anything beyond the family unit and one’s job.

Generally speaking this approach to life is nothing new: people have always displayed tendencies toward self centeredness. What is unique, however, is the manner in which this individualism has filtered into Church life, affecting many Orthodox and non-Orthodox alike and the ways in which they relate to their respective churches. For example, with regard to religion Protopresbyter Thomas Hopko wrote in his book, “All the Fulness of God”:

“Religion in general, and belief in God in particular, have come today to be strictly and exclusively “private matters” – the “religion of your choice” – with the result being that members of the various faiths have come to believe that even their participation in their own particular religion is to be understood and practiced on their own terms rather than on those of the specific community to which they belong…..Almost nothing is asked, or is considered proper to be asked, in terms of doctrinal commitment or moral behavior; and when such questions are presented, they are considered a hangover from the less liberated and enlightened past to be tolerated, understood, endured or opposed, depending on how offensive and “un-American” they are. Thus, it is not uncommon for people today not merely to question but openly to reject certain “official teachings” of their particular church bodies and to continue participating in their communal, liturgical and sacramental life, understanding and explaining such participation in their own individual ways.” (Chapter 6, Orthodox Christianity and the American Spirit, p. 153.)

To clarify further, it used to be that if a person wanted to be a member of the Orthodox Church, the Roman Catholic Church or the Baptist Church that he would either accept the tenets of that particular faith, or simply go elsewhere to join a religion that presented an “acceptable” belief system. Nowadays, however, individuals feel increasingly comfortable, quite spiritual, and “within their rights” affiliating themselves with one or another church without totally “buying into” the principles and disciplines of that group. A person may rarely if ever practice his official faith, and even hold contrary beliefs, but feels at ease and perfectly justified in identifying himself as a member of that particular faith.

Another good book, recently published, “Light from the Christian East,” refers to the individualistic spirit as an issue which contemporary Western Christianity in particular has to address within its own boundaries, an approach to the Faith which has been legitimatized by many Western Christians. The author, James R. Payton Jr., a non-Orthodox himself, is a professor of history at Redeemer University College in Ancaster, Ontario. “He has studied and been in dialogue with Eastern Orthodoxy for many years (over two decades) and has lectured and written extensively on Orthodoxy and Protestant-Orthodox relations.” In “Light from the Christian East” he writes primarily for Western Christians who would like to learn more about Eastern Orthodoxy. In chapter 10 he refers to a common, contemporary approach to church membership that views such membership – relative to salvation – as strictly optional, a matter of religious taste.

“Individualism unmistakably pervades the Western world (especially in North America). How should the church deal with it – not in general, but as that individualism shapes views of “being Christian” that make being part of any particular congregation a matter of free individual choice?” Is “being a member” (to use the most common description for that connectedness) only an option on the spiritual purchase of faith (like air conditioning or automatic transmission in a car)? Can one make the purchase without it? These are questions that have not been asked often enough in the past few generations. It is increasingly obvious to many reflective Western Christians that this issue of “individualistic Christianity” needs to be addressed.”

A Distinctive Approach
Mr. Payton goes on to say that, “in this regard we may find help from our Orthodox brothers and sisters: Orthodoxy offers a distinctive approach to this issue (of individualism and the Church) that deserves careful consideration.” What is this distinctive approach? Basically it is one which views the Church as central to the life of Christians, as having an integral role in the process of salvation for believers. The author states,

“Orthodoxy has stressed that one is a Christian only in concert with other Christians. According to Orthodoxy, one’s Christianity finds itself in and is nourished by communion with other Christians: it not only does not exist on its own, it could not. Eastern Christianity is definitely a churchly Christianity, not an individualistic one…For Orthodoxy, to consider someone a Christian apart from his or her regular involvement with and fellowship in a church is not conceivable…every Christian needs the church: deification is inconceivable (and impossible) without being part of the church.”

Specifically the need for the church is described by Mr. Payton in terms of community (in which we learn to “work out our salvation with fear and trembling”), and in terms of participation in the sacramental life (pp. 169-170). Similarly, Bishop Kallistos Ware in his book, “How Are We Saved? The Understanding of Salvation in the Orthodox Tradition,” wrote:

“Salvation involves the Church. It is ecclesial. We are not to set bounds to God’s saving power, and it may be that in His mercy He will grant salvation to many people who in this present life have never been visibly members of any church community. But, so far as we on our side are concerned, the appointed means to salvation is always in and through the community of the Church.” (p. 68).

Furthermore, the nineteenth century Russian theologian, Alexis Khomiakov, in his notable work, “The Church is One,” stressed that, “We know that when any of us falls he falls alone; but no one is saved alone. He is saved in the Church, as a member of it and in union with all its others members” (Section 9).

Our Responsibility
As pointed to earlier Orthodox Christians are not immune to the temptation of approaching the Christian life in an individualistic manner. Fr. Thomas Hopko certainly refers to this in the work cited above. However, in light of the descriptions given by various authors of the Orthodox understanding of Church membership, we have before us a great responsibility: i.e. to live up to that distinctive approach to the Faith that is often presented as being exemplary by those “looking East.”

Recently the Parish Council and I spoke about the desire for members of St. Barbara’s to renew continually their commitment to Christ and to living the Christian life as reflected in the Gospel, the lives of the Saints, and as interpreted by the Orthodox Church. This reaffirmation is needed to help counter the individualism prevalent in society, for our own salvation and for the edification and salvation of those who come to us in faith.

Mr. Payton’s words about the distinctive character of Orthodoxy are both challenging and daunting. They indicate that even outside the visible boundaries of our Faith there is a great deal expected from Orthodox Christians. But with the challenges come joys: the joy, for instance, of knowing that God is stirring the hearts of others to come to the knowledge of the Truth; the joy of eventually seeing those individuals united to the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.

Within the framework of Pascha and the fifty-two Sundays – the fifty-two “Paschas” – within the fundamental paschal joy, the Church fills the natural time of the year with certain special commemorations, whose cycle begins in the fall.

The first great theme of the year is the coming of Christ into the world. We shall call this the cycle of Christmas and Epiphany. It begins forty days before Christmas with “Advent” or Christmas Lent. The coming of Christ is the beginning of Christianity. Who are the Christians? Those who know that Christ has come and who expect His return. What then gives meaning to a particular day, to the today we live in? Is it not simply one day out of a long sequence of days that each one of us has to live through? Yet for me, as a Christian, its new and deep meaning comes from the past. It is a day related to Christ’s coming into the world, a day after His coming. And thus, a Christian is the one who, first of all, remembers. He can forget Christ; he can wake up in the morning and think only of the petty concerns of that particular day. Yet, on a deeper level, even these minor concerns become a very different experience if he remembers that he is not simply John Smith who has to do this or that, but the one to whom Christ has come, whose life Christ has assumed and has given new meaning. “Today,” however, has a second meaning, because it is also a day before Christ’s return. Thus, I am always living between the two comings of Christ: the one in the past, the other in the future. And finally, the meaning of today comes to me from the words of Christ, who says that He is always with me. “And lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age” (Matthew 27:20). Past, present, future – we see that the time in which we live is not only the time of the calendar, but the time that is shaped from inside and transformed by faith, by Christian experience. It is related to the coming of Christ in the past, to His coming in the future, and to His presence now. It is a time radically different from that of a person whose only concern in life is to mow his lawn, to have money in the bank, and then to trade in his Chevy for a Cadillac and the Cadillac for something else, and finally to die saying, “Well, I had all this and nothing has a meaning.” It is sad, it is tragically sad, not to know that the past, the present and the future have been given by Christ a new and joyful meaning.

We see now why the first theme of the liturgical year is the coming of Christ. But Christmas should not be reduced, as is done in our time, to a sentimental story about the baby in the manger, the sweet little Jesus. What happened in Bethlehem was God Himself coming to man. It was the participation of man in this coming, the meeting of Christ by Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and the wise men, all truly representing the world. It was the participation of the entire nature in this. It was, it forever remains, a tremendous and glorious mystery: into this world (and this is a specific content of the Christian faith) “God Himself” has entered. The God in whom we believe is not a god somewhere “out there,” nobody knows where, but the God who has taken upon Himself to enter into our time, to be one of us, to be the Emmanuel, the God with us. Hence, the second feast of the cycle of Epiphany, which means Manifestation, in that Christ manifested Himself to man, to the world, to the entire creation. When He entered the water of the Jordan, He made it and the whole of nature part of His Incarnation. And at the same time, He received the baptism of repentance, identifying Himself with us sinful men. For He does not come to us only in order to reveal God. He comes to us to take upon Himself all the sins and tragedies of this world, to become not only God to us, but also man to God. This means someone who will suffer, someone who will know all the frustrations and tragedy of human existence, and from inside transform them into joy. On Epiphany, the second theme of the liturgical year, we see Christ the Lamb of God, and John the Baptist pointing to Him saying, “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29).

The feasts of Christmas and Epiphany reveal to us the cosmic dimension of Christian faith. Both involve more than man, more than the I/God relationship. This is important because our time is that of acute individualism and selfishness, even in religion. No longer do we understand that before saving us as persons, as individuals, God restores creation. God, we are told, “so loved the world that He gave His only Son” (John 3:16). The world is the cosmos, the beautiful “wholeness” which He has created and which proclaims His glory and reveals Him to man. In Christmas and Epiphany, not only the relationship between me and my Lord is revealed, but the whole world is revealed as God’s world. Christ descends into the water; He manifests Himself to the whole creation. And this means that our vocation as men and as members of the Church is not to preach simply individual salvation: (i.e.) “Go to confession, go to communion, be a good girl, be a good boy, and you will save your life.” Christians must remember that they, on behalf of the whole creation, offer it in each Divine Liturgy to God; they reveal that God has loved the world and wants the world again to be the means for man’s communion with Him. This is the real theme of Christmas and Epiphany.

The most neglected dimension of Bible study today is how the various parts fit together. The Orthodox understanding of the Bible is that no matter what may be said about origins or editing, the whole process which resulted in the Bible as it was accepted by the Church was providential and everything in the Bible has a purpose.

Christians of the past most often related one part of the Bible to another in terms of TYPOLOGY. To remember the word, consider that a TYPEwriter gets its name from the metal letters inside which are called TYPE. The image on the paper reveals the purpose of the type. So types are events or images which gain a deeper meaning from later ones. The later occurrence or ‘fulfillment’ of the type is called the ANTITYPE (antitypos). This is the way that the Bible most often interprets itself; for example, St. Paul speaks of Adam as a typos (type) of Christ (Romans 5:14). In 1 Peter 3:21, Baptism is called the antitypos of Noah’s ark. In the Old Testament the Exodus is a type of the deliverance from Babylon, and both (are types) of the final victory to be wrought by the Messiah (e.g. Isaiah 52). Our Lord’s use of the Old Testament with reference to Himself is almost always in terms of typology. He relates His Resurrection to Jonah and the whale (Matthew 12:39), the Cross to the serpent on a pole lifted up by Moses (John 3:14). Most likely, this is the way He ‘opened the scriptures’ on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:27 ff.).

Most importantly, He reveals the meaning of His own death as fulfilling the Passover sacrifice, which was deliverance from slavery and the forging of a new people: ‘this cup is the New Covenant in my blood’ (Luke 22:20). The Orthodox Liturgy of St. Basil speaks of the Holy Gifts as the ‘antitypes of the precious Body and Blood of Thy Christ.’

Many people do not see the importance of typology because they confuse it with ALLEGORY. Allegory is the artificial assignment of abstract ‘meanings’ to something when some other meaning might just as easily be assigned. There is allegory in the Bible; for example, when Joseph the Patriarch interprets Pharoah’s dream by saying the seven fat cows ‘represent’ seven years of plenty, etc. (Genesis 41:17). As far as the dream itself goes, the cows could just as easily have been interpreted as something entirely different.

But typology is not just a way of explaining stories but it presupposes an understanding of time itself as having an unfolding meaning. There are several different ways people look at time. One is to say that it has no meaning at all, that life is just a game of chance, like Macbeth’s ‘tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…’ Others see it as having a pattern, but a meaningless one because everything is determined and there are no real choices. In this category fall the ‘scientific’ view that everything is explainable by its causes and also cyclical views like astrology and eastern religions.

The Biblical understanding of time is that it does have a pattern but it is not a meaningless cycle; it is the arena where men exercise real choices and experience the consequences of them, and where God reveals Himself to men in this process. The types call our attention to this unity of history, that the same God is revealing Himself in many ways.

For example, many of the Fathers speak of Isaac carrying the wood for the sacrifice on his shoulder (Genesis 22:6) as a type of Christ carrying the Cross. Is it only a ‘gimmick’ to see such a similarity? No, because there is a real unity of the two events. In every generation men shoulder burdens they do not understand out of love and obedience, and both the Cross and Resurrection reveal this as the way of peace and victory. Furthermore God, unlike Abraham, ‘spared not his own Son but gave Him up for us all’ (Romans 8:32).

The Old Testament can be truly understood only in relation to the New Testament; many Christian get very mixed up by reading the Old Testament without understanding this. But likewise the New Testament (and our own time) will be fully understood only in the light of the Second Coming of Christ. History does have a meaning, but its meaning is like a scroll which only Christ has been found worthy to open (Revelation 5).
(First published in the November 1983 Dawn).

On May 6, the fourth Sunday after Pascha, we read from the Gospel according to St. John, chapter 4, verses 5-42. The lesson told of our Lord’s encounter with a woman of Samaria, alongside Jacob’s well, and their extraordinary conversation. In His dialogue with the woman, Jesus says the following:

“Woman, believe Me, the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father...The hour is coming and now is when true worshippers will worship the Father in Spirit and in Truth, for such the Father seeks to worship Him. God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in Spirit and in Truth” (John 4: 22-24).

These verses are important for one’s understanding of Christianity; they contain within them a number of key Christian concepts (Fr. Alexander Schmemann, “Celebration of Faith, Volume 2,” pp. 143-144). In the following article I would like to focus on several of these.

Man Is Made To Worship God
According to His Eminence, Archbishop Dmitri, the above words of our Lord address a basic, spiritual question: “What is the chief activity that man must consciously direct towards God?” The proper response is “worship ” (Source: Unpublished Sermon). The fundamental truth about man – indeed about all of us – is that we are made to worship and serve God. Only by doing so can genuine happiness and meaning be found for one’s life. The “instinct” to worship is within us, placed there by the Creator. It is overwhelmingly strong, part of our very being as creatures made in our Fashioner’s Image. An immutable fact of life is that if this instinct to adore God is not directed towards Him, we inevitably bow down and serve anything and everything else. There is no neutral ground with respect to this issue. A master will be served. It is only a matter of which one: God or mammon. Our Lord says, “No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon” (Matthew 6:24).

We recommend reading the entire first chapter of St. Paul’s letter to the Romans with the above thoughts in mind. There, as Father Thomas Hopko has pointed out on numerous occasions, the Apostle essentially attributes the chaos that can be found in the world to the fact that human beings are guilty of suppressing the truth that can be known about God, and exchanging that truth “for a lie and (worshipping and serving) the creature rather than the Creator...” (Romans 1:25). So much of the restlessness and dissatisfaction experienced by people today is rooted in their search for “ultimate” satisfaction in the things of this world – money, power, fame, etc. – rather than in God.

If we seek a general definition of worship, Archbishop Dmitri instructs that worship, fundamentally, is dedicating oneself totally to something. To worship God means that we place everything that we have and are somehow at His service. Christ referred to this act as “the first and great commandment,” one of two upon which hang all the Law and Prophets: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind” (Matthew 22:37). Furthermore, the one who truly worships God learns to keep Him in mind constantly, referring every thought, word and deed to the Heavenly Kingdom revealed in and through Christ.

True Worship
A second key idea referred to in John 4: 22-24 is that there is such a thing as “true worship.” Teachers of the faith, as well as our liturgical services, refer to it. The Church has this very concept built-in to its name. The word Orthodox means “right praise” or “correct worship (glorification).” True worship can be defined specifically in a variety of interrelated ways. It is basically worship as God intended it to be. It is worship directed towards the True God as He has revealed Himself in and through Christ: One God Who is at the same time three distinct Divine Persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Ample mention has been made of temptations to serve the creature rather than the Creator. It is also possible to adore a false image of God, approaching Him not as He is, but rather as one would like Him to be. Two oversimplified yet reasonable examples come to mind: the attempt by believers to portray God as full of hate and contempt for the sinner, instead of teaching that “God is love” itself (1 John 4:8); and stressing that God rewards faith with success in this life, worldly achievements and possessions being a chief sign of faith and of His favor.

True worship of God includes, in addition, an acknowledgment of our true selves, of how we really are. It means recognizing that we are sinful creatures with failings and weaknesses yet having, as well, divinely endowed strengths, virtues and gifts (to be used for God’s glory), and that we are loved boundlessly by our Creator.

Archbishop Dmitri has emphasized that the “genius of the Orthodox Church lies not only in its theology but in its worship” (Lecture given at the University of Dallas). There are those who would stress that this worship is so ingenious, so powerful in its spirit and ability to inspire, transform, and educate the faithful, that it has been the primary anchor of hope for many who have experienced waves of persecution from their own countries’ governmental efforts to stamp out religion. Pondering this issue, contemporary thinkers have suggested that enemies of the Church, especially in former Communist countries, could have dealt her members a deadlier blow by refusing the Orthodox their liturgical rituals altogether, rather than trying so desperately to restrict their involvement with education and social activities (Fr. Alexander Schmemann). By allowing Orthodox people to retain their forms of worship, they were given the opportunity to be nourished spiritually by the pure words and Word of God, revealed in the Sacraments, Scripture readings, hymns, prayers and sermons. Through these they partook of “the one thing needful,” acquiring strength to stand up against any opposition.

The Holy Spirit
Finally, worship of the Father, “...in Spirit and in Truth...” is that which is guided by God’s Spirit, open to His Will. “It is not informing God about what He already knows and telling Him what He ought to do about it” (Fr. Alexander Schmemann). One does not approach God in prayer with a strict agenda, having primarily the notion of asking Him to bless and bring about plans upon which one has rigidly decided. “Thy Will be done...” is the heart and soul of true worship. It is worship that is always open to divine inspiration by the power and operation of the Holy Spirit in one’s life (See Romans 8: 15,16). Here, a few concluding thoughts can be expressed.

Often when worship is discussed people have a very specific, even ritualistic activity in mind. It is understood to be something for which a certain number of minutes or hours in a day are set aside, done at particular times, in a particular place and in a particular way. To speak of worship or prayer in this sense is certainly essential (although not comprehensive) and needs to be stressed, especially with regards to the Biblical passage quoted above: John 4: 22-24. More than once the phrase, “...God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in Spirit and in Truth...” has been quoted to speak against the necessity for “organized” religion, “structured” worship or sacramental, liturgical rites. The words above from John 4 are not infrequently combined with references from John 3 and Romans 8 to emphasize that those who are born of the Spirit (worshipping in Spirit and Truth) are like “the wind (which) blows where it wills, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know whence it comes or whither it goes;” (John 3:8). The point is made that, “If we are to be like the wind, living and being led by the Spirit, then it must follow that Christ’s disciples are free to engage exclusively in a loose, formless style of worship. How can any sort of structured community life or prayer be anything but stifling and dead?”

To use John 4 in this manner, however, is to miss completely the point of what Jesus was trying to convey to the woman of Samaria. In saying that “God is Spirit” He was indicating that God cannot be confined to a particular locale, “neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem.” He was not commenting on the hierarchical structure of His Church. Nor was He referring to the subsequent development of its sacramental and liturgical life. He was not advocating a free-for-all approach to prayer. As a matter of fact, Jesus Himself observed and fulfilled the Law. He and His Apostles observed the feasts and appointed times for prayer. His words, rather, spoke prophetically of His overall Mission: that with His advent (“the hour is coming and now is”) the time has come when people of every nation, Jew and Gentile, no matter where they live, will worship the true God as revealed in and through Christ and the Holy Spirit, fully and in the correct way.

Actually, God said both yes and no. He said "yes" to creation -- out of nothing -- (2 Maccabbees 7:28; Romans 4:17; Hebrews 11:3) which He deemed "very good." He said "yes" to man fashioned in His image, giving him dominion over every creature upon the face of the earth. He said "yes" to the blessed union of male and female telling them to be "fruitful and multiply." He said "yes" to the use of every tree and its fruit as food for man. And, God said "yes" to the blessed rest of the Sabbath Day (Genesis 1 & 2).

The Lord also said "no," directing man for his welfare, not to partake of one particular tree: "Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shall not eat of it: forfor in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die" (Genesis 2:16-17). The contemplation of this "no" is instructive, for there are many things to which we must say "no" for our benefit. God's "no" was aimed at preserving human life while allowing for the existence of man's freewill (freewill is a classic feature of Orthodox anthropology). More than one interpretation within Sacred Tradition testifies to the loving character of God's prohibition. The consumption of the tree's fruit, understood figuratviely, is "...man's actual taste of evil, his literal experience of evil as such," through the misuse of freewill. Some view the tree as symbolic of that which was yet impossible for man to achieve, something which may have been offered eventually by God as a possiblity, but which man chose to grasp prematurely. (Hopko, Fr. Thomas, The Orthodox Faith: Doctrine, p. 58).

In any event, God's proscription was meant to protect Adam from involving himself in something for which he was not ready, or for which he was not fashioned. Furthermore, when man did eat of the tree, this rebelious act effectively separated him from the Source of his existence. Disconnected from Life itself, it resulted in the "wedding of his nature -- our nature -- to a foreign life of death and sorrow" (Orthodox Funeral Service). It is often stressed that ultimately partaking of the tree of knowledge represented a vain attempt, by man, to find life apart from God, to exalt creation as an end in itself. According to Fr. Alexander Schmemann:

"Man ate the forbidden fruit. The fruit of that one tree, whatever else it may signify, was unlike every other fruit in the Garden: it was not offered as a gift to man. Not given, not blessed by God, it was food whose eating was condemned to be communion with itselfalone, and not with God. It is the image of the world loved for itself, and eating it is the image of life understood as an end in itself" (For the Life of the World, p. 16).

Thse words are similar in spirit to those of Archimandrite Sophrony (1896-1993), disciple of St. Silouan. The beloved elder also describes original sin in terms of pride, as the attempt by man to become "like God" through is own efforts.

"...although Adam possessed absolute freedom of choice, to choose to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil would entail a break with God as a sole source of life. By opting for knowledge of evil -- in other words, by existentially associating with evil, by savoring evil -- Adam inevitably broke with God, Who can in no waybe joined with evil (cf. 2 Corinthians 6:14-15). In breaking with God, Adam dies... Exactly how Adam 'tasted' the fruit ofthe tree of the knowledge of good and evili s not important. His sin was to doubt God, to seek to determine his own lifeindependently of God, even apart from Him, after the pattern of Lucifer. Herein lies the essence of Adam's sin -- it was a movement towards self-divinization. Adam could naturally wish for deification --he had been created after the likeness of God -- but he sinned in seeking this divinization not through unity with God but through rupture. The serpent beguiled Eve, the helpmeet God had made for Adam, by suggesting that God was introducing a prohibition which woudl restrict their freedom (rather than nurture it) to seek divine plenitude of knowledge, that God was unwilling for them to 'be as gods knowing good and evil' (Genesis 3:5)." (His Life is Mine, pp. 37-38).

These passages point to an emphasis differing from a juridical notion of man's fall strictly in terms for punishment for disobeying a God-given rule; presented, as some say, even as a test. The Orthodox interpretation of Adam's defiance and its effect on creation is more "organic" in character. It is viewed as leading to a corruption of that which was previously innocent and good; to the inheritance of a fallen nature, a diseased world, rather than "guilt" for somethign done by the first father. The Orthodox understanding of original sin ultimately colors, as well, our understanding of salvation through Christ, the Second Adam; again, taking us beyond the prevalent legalistic ideas of the Atonement as held by many non-Orthodox (and some Orthodox) Christians, to the experience of salvation as "re-creation," as a death -- in Christ -- to this world, a rising and partaking of the New Life of the Kingdom.

God's prophetic words to His beloved creatures concerning death are significant: "...in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." Fr. Thomas Hopko has repeatedly stressed that God's promise was not that He would "kill" Adam, but that Adam "would surely die" if he disobeyed and ate of the forbidden tree. Death was not simply the duly appointed penalty for a crime; it was the inevitable result of sin, of man trying to live according to his rules and not God's, turning his back on the Source of all that exists.

Great Lent which begins this month on Sunday night, February 18, is interpreted, on one level, as a season of "no's." During Lent the faithful sacrifice various foods and activities in anticipation of Holy Week and the commemoration of Christ's Death and Resurrection. As a tithe of the year, in a particularly intense manner, these forty days reveal the benefit of saying "no" to many things at all times, in light of Christ's call to repentance, in light of God's original "no," meant to protect and guide.

We obviously want to shun overtly sinful and destructive behavior: the misuse of drugs and alcohol, for example, as well as blasphemy, theft, fornication, adultery and the mistreatment of others. Not so obvious, though, are the reasons for saying "no," for a period of time, to some of life's necessities and pleasures: various foods and drinks, types of entertainement, social engagements, idle conversations and so forth. Indeed, if we understand Lent, even our Faith, primarily as supplying divine "rules" -- i.e. if we follow them we are good Orthodox, if not then we are poor Christians -- our self denial will be unintelligible as well as unsuccessful. The point of Lent is to have an appreciation (a vision if you will) of where we are, and where we need to be going, spiritually (This is a primary message presented through the Gospel and hymns on Prodigal Son Sunday, February 4, 2007). The point of the Great Fast through its disciplines is to say "no" to the hold that the world has had on man since the time of Adam even in the little things, and to say "yes" to the liberation offered in Christ, the New Adam. It is to say "no" to the beguilement of the devil who presents creation as an end in itself, and to say "yes" to an enlightened view of the cosmos as a reflection of God's love and a means of communion with Him. Whether we perceive it or not, the daily grind of earning a living and raising a family is where the above temptations powerfully arise, having a profound effect on the way we act, think and speak.

The "rules" of Great Lent exist for this purpose: to liberate and educate, to instill within us Godly wisdom, to bring us closer to God and to one another in Christ. We want changes to occur in us during the forty days that will affect our lives even outside of Lent. External modifications to our normal routine reflect a desire for this inner transformation and help bring it about. If we ignore the Fast or take it lightly the actual sin is not that we shun Lenten rules; the greater tragedy is that we refuse to open ourselves -- through prayer, fasting and almsgiving -- to the abundant life offered as a possiblity through Christ. Similarly, the sin of Adam is not just that he "disobeyed" God. His sin was the refusal, through disobedience, of "real" life. Adam rejected the life for which he was fashioned, preferring a different path. Our Lord invites us to avoid this behavior and to choose The Way that is profitable for us. May this Lent be a time of blessed renewal.