The Church Calendar

A Great Blessing and A Challenge


On September 1st the Orthodox Church enters its liturgical year, a new cycle of feasts commemorating specific events in the life of Christ, commemorating many saints who bore witness to the power of Christ in their lives. Essentially, we will start marking time, filling time with the remembrance of God and all that He has done for us.  And at the center of this important cycle is Pascha (Easter): everything spiritually and liturgically flows to and from the Resurrection of Christ.  The “feast of feasts” is that light which illumines each prayer, each offering, each service in the Orthodox Church.      


St. Paul, in both Ephesians and Colossians, says that we are to, "redeem the time, for the days are evil." Archbishop Dmitri, of blessed memory, pointed out that filling time with the remembrance of God through worship is one method by which we redeem time itself, give it ultimate meaning.  For a group of Baptist leaders, he even explained St. Paul’s directive to, “pray without ceasing,” in terms of simply remembering God throughout the day in any and all circumstances.    


Recognizing September 1st as the start of our liturgical cycle has a long history; its roots even predate the coming of Christ. For the Jews, September was and is the beginning of the new year. As Christianity is the fulfillment of Judaism – the law and prophets all pointing to Jesus – there are many things the Church inherited then baptized from its Jewish roots, including our general approach to measuring time, observing September as a commencement.

   

Many Orthodox emphasize that the 1st Ecumenical Council (Nicea 325) provided the initial declaration of September 1st as the start of the New Year. And according to one venerable tradition referred to by St. Dimitri of Rostov, it was on that specific day over two thousand years ago, on a Sabbath, that Jesus came into the synagogue and openly announced the start of His ministry. Thus, in Luke's Gospel we are told that Jesus – in the city of Nazareth – in the midst of a gathering, was handed the prophecy of Isaiah and began to read the following:


"The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach, to heal, to proclaim liberty to the captives and the oppressed, and to give sight to the blind, to proclaim the acceptable Year of the Lord...." He then closed the book and said, "Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." 


Essentially, Jesus announced prophetic signs of the Messiah's coming, proclaimed them in a liturgical context. He then assured His audience that, "The Messiah is here, now; I am the Anointed One, the Promised One; this prophecy is fulfilled with My appearance." Some commentators add that with the words, “an acceptable year of the Lord,” Jesus was indicating the imminent start, with His ministry, of a special time of jubilee in which "the oppressed would be set free." 


Our manner of marking time – redeeming time through worship – as received from our forefathers, is a precious inheritance. We need to appreciate it, take advantage of it for our own spiritual well-being. Of course, we do not want “to deify” the religious calendar as some Orthodox Christians tend to do, holding it almost to the level of Scripture. Neither do we want to disregard this sacred rhythm of feasts and fasts. It exists for a reason, as a practical and saving tool. A proper balance is necessary for its full appreciation, to appreciate, in fact, all things inherited and developed by the Church over the centuries.         

     

In the non-Orthodox Christian world there are many people looking for what we have, liturgically, morally, theologically, spiritually. They are also discovering – or we should say rediscovering – the value of a Christian calendar, something that goes beyond the simple observance of Memorial Day, 4th of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. For many believers those five days, in a nutshell, constitute their religious calendar.  With that in mind, I am often puzzled by the ways in which histories of individual families and nations are given so much more weight by bible-believing Christians in terms of reverence and celebration, than events related to Church history, to occurrences in the life of Christ as recorded in Scripture, and to strong evidence of the divine presence in the lives of the saints. Why would these latter happenings be neglected by so many, clear indicators – past and present – of God “working wonders in the midst of the earth?”  That has frequently been a point of confusion, at least for me.


But, very soon our Church Year will start in a big way. On September 8 we will celebrate the birth of the Virgin Mary; on September 14, the Elevation of the Cross. Many parishes will also have liturgies commemorating great saints in September:  John the Baptist, for instance (23rd); Sergius of Radonezh (25th) and John the Evangelist (26th). And then, we will be looking ahead to the Christmas Fast, during which we will prepare for Christ's Nativity and Baptism, His self-revelation to the world. I could be wrong, but I think for many inquirers and catechumens the notion of a comprehensive Orthodox Calendar is one of the most difficult practices to adopt as they draw near to the Church, but spiritually it is well worth the effort.

  

This year, let us rededicate ourselves to the Lord, and continue doing what we do, taking part actively as best we can in the Church’s sacred rhythm of feasts and fasts. Let us not take for granted or ignore the gift of this liturgical cycle, marking time not just by personal triumph's, birthdays, and anniversaries, but marking time preeminently by that which Christ has done for us, His victory over sin and death, so that each day can be truly an offering to Him. (Sermon at St. Barbara’s)   


Ss. Peter and Paul: June 29

 Centripetal and Centrifugal Forces for Good

Archpriest Daniel Kovalak     

“With what garlands of praise shall we crown Peter and Paul, the greatest among the heralds of the word of God, distinct in their person but one in spirit.  The one, the chief ruler of the Apostles; the other who labored more than the rest.  Christ our God fittingly crowned them with immortal glory, for He alone possesses great mercy” (Vespers, the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul).


How wonderfully the feast of Saints Peter and Paul (June 29) fits into the liturgical scheme of our Holy Church as yet another manifestation of the descent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. These two great pillars of the Church offer us significantly more practical wisdom than we imagine.  

The confession of Peter—that Jesus is “truly the Christ, the Son of the Living God”— is the rock of faith upon which the Church is built.  And the perils of Paul, wherein he came to rely totally on the sufficiency of God’s grace, is something for all of us to consider.

But in addition to their individual lives and struggles as recounted in the festal readings, it is their combined witness and testimony from which we can learn a great deal.

We have probably all heard of Sir Isaac Newton, the 17th century English mathematician who, among other things, formulated the laws of gravity and motion. In doing so, Newton coined two words to describe the forces of motion: centripetal and centrifugal. Centripetal force is what keeps things down on earth though the planet revolves at incredible speed. Centrifugal force moves things away from a center point—like going around a curve on a roller coaster and your body is forced toward the outside.  Can’t we see these ‘forces of motion’ wonderfully illustrated in the persons of Peter and Paul?


Peter, as seen in his epistles, was always encouraging the early Church and Christians in the Roman diaspora to maintain unity within a hostile environment.  He instructed Christians to band and keep together, regardless of the distance that separated them, in order to bear witness to Christ. “Finally, all of you, have unity of spirit, sympathy, love of the brethren, a tender heart and a humble mind” (1 Peter 3:8).  Peter was a centripetal force for the Church.


Paul, on the other hand, was the missionary apostle; the centrifugal force of the Church that challenged her, and led the challenge, to expand her mission to include the Gentiles: “...I am eager to preach the Gospel to you also who are in Rome. For I am not ashamed of the Gospel: it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek” (Romans 1:15-16).


Do you see the wisdom here?  The Church was, is and must always be ‘a Body in motion;’ living and active, never stagnant.  And the forces of motion are perfectly exemplified, respectfully, by Peter and Paul. Without the centripetal force of Peter, the Church would have become little more than loosely connected groups ‘doing their own thing’ with no cohesiveness or foundation upon which to build in a unified manner.  And without the centrifugal force of Paul, the Church would have remained a relatively small Jewish sect in Palestine. The Church needed both of these ‘forces’ to implement the great Commission of Our Lord to teach and baptize all nations!

In like manner, we — as individuals and members of parish communities — need to practically apply these same forces of motion today. Our lives must be centered on Jesus Christ, anchored in intimate communion with Him Who alone is the Source of our being and the Author of our salvation.  We need centripetal force to keep us grounded in faith as we go about our daily activities and face the trials and tribulations of life. And the Church wonderfully provides this in her worship, sacraments, and ascetic life. But we also need the centrifugal force that ‘moves’ us to adapt to changing circumstances and relationships, helps us to gain new insights into God’s love for us, and share our faith with others!

The laws of motion are also important for practical administrative purposes within the Church.  Every parish must recognize two types of goals in its collective life: maintenance and growth. We must be good stewards of what God has entrusted to us and concerned with the welfare of our parishioners. But we must also be willing to adapt, expand and widen our scope to fulfill our function as the Church to ‘teach all nations’.

May we learn from the example of Peter and Paul of the diversity of spiritual gifts within the Church that, though they may not always reflect uniformity, nevertheless serve a common purpose: to reveal, manifest and announce the living God that all may know Him and love Him as we do, and keep the Body of Christ ‘in motion’!

Christ is Risen!

Metropolitan Anthony Bloom

 

When Christ first rose from the tomb and appeared to His disciples and the myrrh-bearing women, He greeted them with the word "Rejoice!"  And then later when He appeared to the Apostles His first words were "Peace be unto you!" Peace, because their confusion was very great - the Lord had died.  It seemed as though all hope had perished for the victory of God over human wickedness, for the victory of good over evil.  It would seem that life itself had been slain and light had faded.  All that remained for the disciples who had believed in Christ, in life, in love, was to go on existing, for they could no longer live.  Having tasted eternal life, they were now condemned to expect cruel persecution and death at the hands of Christ's enemies. "Peace be unto you," proclaimed Christ. "I have arisen, I am alive, I am with you, and henceforth nothing - neither death nor persecution - will ever separate us or deprive you of eternal life, the victory of God."

 

And then, having convinced them of His physical resurrection, having restored their peace and an unshakable certainty of faith, Christ uttered words which may in the present age sound menacing and frightening to many, "As the Father sent Me, so I send you." Only a few hours after Christ's death on the cross, not long after the fearful night in Gethsemane, the betrayal by Judas when Christ had been taken by His enemies, condemned to death, led out beyond the city walls and died on the cross, these words sounded menacing.  And it was only faith, the conquering certainty that Christ had risen, that God had conquered, that the Church had become an invincible force that transformed these words into words of hope and triumphant God-speed.

 

And the disciples went out to preach; nothing could stop them. Twelve men confronted the Roman empire. Twelve defenseless men, twelve men without legal rights went out to preach the simplest message, that divine love had entered the world and that they were willing to give their lives for the sake of this love, in order that others might believe and come to life, and that a new life might begin for others through their death. [I Cor. IV :9-13]

 

Death was indeed granted them; there is not a single apostle except St. John the Divine who did not die a martyr's death. Death was granted them, and persecution and suffering and a cross (II Cor. VI: 3-14).

 

But faith, faith in Christ, in God Incarnate, faith in Christ crucified and risen, faith in Christ who brought unquenchable love into the world, has triumphed. "Our faith which has conquered the world is the victory."

 

This preaching changed the attitude of man to man; every person became precious in the eyes of another. The destiny of the world was widened and deepened; it burst the bounds of earth and united earth to heaven.  And now – in the words of a western preacher -- we Christians, in the person of Jesus Christ, have become the people to whom God has committed the care of other people; that they should believe in themselves because God believes in us; that they should hope for all things because God puts His hope in us;  that they should be able to carry our victorious faith through the furnace of horror, trials, hatred and persecution - that faith which has already conquered the world, the faith in Christ, God crucified and risen.

 

So let us also stand up for this faith. Let us proclaim it fearlessly, let us teach it to our children, let us bring them to the sacraments of the Church which, even before they can understand it, unite them with God and plant eternal life in them.

 

All of us, sooner or later, will stand before the judgment of God and will have to answer whether we were able to love the whole world - believers and unbelievers, the good and the bad - with the sacrificial, crucified, all-conquering love with which God loves us. May the Lord give us invincible courage, triumphant faith, joyful love in order that the kingdom for which God became man should be established, that we should truly become godly, that our earth should indeed become heaven where love, triumphant love lives and reigns.  

 

Christ is risen!

 

Thoughts about Fear and Deliverance

People in general are far too acquainted with fear, and unfamiliar with “the peace of God which “surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7).  They live daily in fear of crime, terrorism, war, disease, an uncertain economy, as well as apprehension from urban isolation, from not knowing – and thus not fully trusting – family and neighbors. 

 

Beyond this, fear is used as a powerful tool, driving personal, political and corporate agendas.  Those in positions of authority often find it easier and quicker to motivate people out of fear, rather than through inspiration, through true leadership. They find it less difficult to unite people against a perceived enemy – real or imaginary – rather than to rally them around peaceful, constructive goals.  Individuals who otherwise have nothing in common, find mutual ground against a shared opponent. An ancient proverb comes to mind:  "the enemy of my enemy is my friend."  Knowledge of such predictable, fear driven behavior, serves as a basis from which to evoke desired responses from select groups and individuals. Such maneuvering takes place on both micro and macro levels, from the confines of small family units and clusters of friends, to the level of large businesses and governments.        

 

As part of the fallen human experience, fear – unfortunately – is also a reality in the life of the Church.  Christians experience all of the above:  i.e. fear used by civic and corporate leaders as a manipulative tool, as well as societal based fears.  They face the common fear of human interaction; fear of change; of divesting oneself of non-essentials for the Gospel's sake; an overwhelming fear of God's wrath in churches where divine retribution is a constant theme; fear of persecution and martyrdom for Christ; and fear of death generally, with no expense or effort being too great to delay the inevitable, or to make death as painless as possible.

 

There are those, however, who have risen above personal insecurities, suspicions, threats from non-believers, and anxieties over death. Many who conquered their fears through love and faith are called saints.  They provided examples of courage that Christians strive to emulate.  They knew, as well, a healthy fear of the Lord that is "the beginning of wisdom" and which leads to life. (Proverbs 1:7; 9:10; 19:23).

Fear, however, creeps into the Church's life in other ways. Tragically, as with society at large, it can be used in varying degrees to drive agendas within the Body, to divide Christians. Additionally, fear is brought into Orthodoxy as a vestige from the past in the lives of many who convert from other faiths.  In such cases fear may lead to "going on the defensive," assuming that the Orthodox Church is easily susceptible to trends adversely affecting non-Orthodox churches.  Thus, at times one encounters knee jerk reactions – personal efforts to guard the Church – against legitimate threats certainly, but also against what could be considered normal, healthy activity within the life of the Body.

 

A few gender-based and “lifestyle” examples come to mind, but we will cite only one.

 

A number of years ago an Orthodox conference was held concerning, "The Role of Women in the Church."  The theme itself seemed innocent enough and useful.  People have questions about parish ministries, as well as Orthodoxy's understanding of both men and women serving the Body of Christ in various capacities. Thus, an assembly devoted to such a topic appeared highly beneficial.

 

That year a guest editorial was printed in an Orthodox paper, written by a member of the Orthodox Church in America.  His former faith had gone through major changes, among which was the ordination of women to the priesthood. The editorial was strong in its tone.  The point of emphasis seemed to be that the upcoming Orthodox conference focusing on women was an example of activities that could open the floodgates for women's ordination in the Orthodox Church.  Needless to say, he did not seem to be in favor of such a gathering.

 

To some extent the author's mindset was understandable. His words constituted a warning based on prior experiences in another conservative Christian group. While regretting, however, what happens outside the Orthodox Church, Orthodox Christians can appreciate the power of their own living Tradition to address contemporary issues in a forthright manner. They can readily acknowledge the necessity of such efforts for the benefit of believers.  Within our Tradition the Holy Spirit works to guide the faithful into all Truth.  Having survived two thousand years of every imaginable persecution and hardship, the Church itself has nothing to fear from open dialogue, from sincere questions by the faithful. 

 

It is a great blessing that we are free and possess the means in this country to convene conferences devoted to "Women in the Church," or to other worthwhile topics. We also have ready access to knowledgeable theologians, clergy and laymen.  Education and reasonable dialogue on theological, moral, even political issues, are to be encouraged and not feared. Airing out the Faith, letting it breathe and speak to life, allows it to challenge and guide contemporary culture.  Constructing non-essential walls around the Church out of fear, as well as attempts to isolate Church members from issues that will inevitably affect them as members of society, may provide a disservice to the Body, placing obstacles to spiritual growth where they need not exist, diverting focus from the real enemy. 

The Apostle’s words in his letter to the Ephesians are a continual reminder of where the true danger lies: "we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 6:12).

 

For two millennia the Truth has triumphed over falsehood.  Christ bestowed the gift of peace and promised that, "the gates of hell shall not prevail" (Matthew 16:18).  Individual believers may fall and lose sight of the Truth.  That is always a possibility.  The Church of Christ itself, however, cannot die.   An Orthodox nun in the South once commented:  "...even if it is in the heart of just one person, the Orthodox Church will always exist."

 

Admittedly some of these thoughts may be viewed as too simplistic, as perhaps ignoring the great theological controversies of the past, the profound concerns of the Church Fathers as they fought against heresies, as well as persecutions and emotions that accompanied their efforts.  Our intention, though, is not to minimize real threats, or serious spiritual consequences resulting from error and delusion.  We merely wish to distinguish between perceived and actual dangers for the Church, and to emphasize the uniqueness of Orthodoxy among the Christian faiths. Such a distinction should offer courage to the faithful by instilling trust in a living Tradition, guided by the Holy Spirit.      

 

We also wish to discourage, within the Church, paralysis brought on by fear, and to encourage a certain kind of openness reflected in Church history as the Church sought to speak creatively to surrounding cultures. Fr. John Meyendorff of blessed memory, in his book Living Tradition, provides some guidance in these matters. With regard to fourth century Christian battles against Arianism, he stressed the creative efforts of the Fathers. They sought out and used contemporary terminology as a way of expressing the Ancient Faith in their day and time.

Fr. John writes: "The Fathers...did not simply anathematize the Arians but also provided a positive and contemporary terminology to explain the mystery of the Holy Trinity:  the terminology enshrined in the Church's Creed.  They did not simply deny the validity of Greek philosophy, but demonstrated as well that its best intuitions could successfully be used in Christian theology, provided that one accept the Gospel of Christ as the ultimate criterion of Truth."  

 

And of course, often cited is St. Paul’s encounter with the men of Athens in Acts 17.  His reference to their “unknown God,” while introducing his hearers to Jesus, was a simple, yet brilliant example of using one’s surroundings creatively for a Godly purpose. 

 

The Apostle instructs that fear – specifically fear of the "ultimate enemy" – is something from which Jesus came to deliver mankind (Hebrews 2:15).  Society at large, as well as religious groups, may be prompted or paralyzed by fear and delusion, or may use these things as tools driving a myriad of agendas.  But certainly, within the Orthodox Church, its faithful should find courage, be driven by devotion to Truth and motivated by love, perfect love which "casts out all fear" (1 John 4:18).

What Does It Mean to be Orthodox?

Blessed Feast Day!

 

As we start the Civil New Year people think automatically in terms of change and personal resolutions. Christians do the same, and why not?  Our Faith is all about change: repentance, rebirth and renewal.

 

Along with resolutions, however, I would like to add a general question for us to ponder. Since many people are reportedly approaching the Church in large numbers across North America and even in Europe, this could be a timely topic. The question is, “What does it mean to be an Orthodox Christian?”

 

It seems a bit pretentious on my part to address such a broad and difficult topic, especially in any sort of concise way. And yet, it does have to be considered inevitably by everyone: inquirers, catechumens and Church members alike.  

 

Depending on the context and level of discussions one could provide very formal, theological answers. Countless books have been written on the history and beliefs of the Church.  But then again, a less formal emphasis on charity in the light of Christ is sometimes presented, along with the words, conservative and liturgical, as simple ways of explaining to others what it means to be Orthodox. Both ways are effective depending on the overall content and audience.  St. Seraphim of Sarov (1754-1833) offered this brief insight to his friend Nicholai Motovilov: “The goal (or aim) of the Christian life,” he said, “is the acquisition of the Holy Spirit.” 

 

Archbishop Dmitri of Dallas (+ 2011) customarily took a direct, theological approach. He went straight to the Source and referenced the following: “What do you think of Jesus Christ?  Whose Son is He?” (Matt. 22:42) Everything that it means to believe, worship and live as an Orthodox, proceeds from an answer to that one question that Jesus asked the Pharisees. In his book, Doctrine of Christ, the Archbishop called this the most important question ever asked. A second is like unto it: “Who do you say that I am?” (Matt. 16:15)

 

Some Christians might reply, “Easy: Jesus is the Son of God,” and did He not commend the Apostle Peter for his Confession of Faith: “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God?” Well yes, He did.  And yes, He is the Son of God. But what does that response mean? On a certain level such a brief answer is not always satisfactory. Seven Ecumenical Councils were convened over the span of five centuries to nail down specifically the identity of Christ and its implications. So important was that one topic, and so possible it was and is to make the title “Son of God” mean just about anything you want it to mean, that councils had to be called to insure there was no confusion or uncertainty. If our entire Faith hinges on this One Person, then we need to know as clearly as possible Who He is and the nature of His mission. Sort those things out, and the various teachings and practices of Orthodoxy make increasingly more sense.

 

In addressing the question before us we can also take a slightly different, less theological approach from that of the Archbishop. Let’s refer to the two greatest commandments on which – according to Jesus – hang all the law and prophets: “Love God with all your mind, heart, soul and strength,” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matt. 22:37-40) If each person will strive to learn the profound meaning of those words and then attempt gradually to live in such a way that our actions and words reflect that approach to life, that – in the Light of Christ – is essentially what it means to be Orthodox.

 

Without wanting to be overly simplistic, we could say that as genuine love becomes a primary focus for us, we will increasingly – out of love – start to do whatever God would have us do.  We will pray to the Lord daily; we will go to Church, repent of our sins and partake of the sacraments; we will become good stewards, give of our talents and resources toward the work of the Church; we will sacrifice for others, with our time, energy and through charitable contributions; all in the name of love.

 

In addition, we will confess the Lord, fully divine, fully human. We will confess God, as a Trinity of Divine Persons, Father, Son and Spirit, because the desire to love God, with all our heart, mind, soul and strength, will lead us to seek the truth about His identity, His will for man, and the way in which He interacts with all of creation. An authentic desire to love others will show us the way.

 

What occasionally concerns me is that when faced with addressing the question, “What does it mean to be Orthodox?” we sometimes forget to emphasize love. We default to answering in shotgun fashion. We are all over the map theologically and with regard to Christian disciplines: liturgical rules, ascetism, new and old calendars, Apostolic authority, male or female priesthood, leaven or un-leaven bread, Ecumenical Councils and so on.  At this time of year, we even like to contrast a twenty-four-day Advent season in the West with our own forty-days, and then twelve days of Christmas with six weeks in Orthodoxy.

 

But it could be that it is often better to simply redirect religious questions to the basics of Orthodoxy. His Eminence Dmitri chose to start with Christ’s identity, fundamental to our Faith, no question.  It’s step one. But we can just as easily start with the notion of love, the greatest of virtues: love God, love people. And do we not confess that Jesus is love incarnate?

 

Find out then what it means to, “love as Christ has loved us,” and we will all know what it means to be Orthodox. That might even be a resolution of sorts, as we start the New Year. Not WWJD, “What would Jesus do?” but Who is Jesus really, and what would He have us do in His name, out of compassion?

 

It seems to me that our own Divine Liturgy makes clear that these emphases are two sides of the same coin: “Let us love one another (we pray), that with one mind we may confess, Father, Son and Holy Spirit…” Faith and love go hand in hand. They are inseparable and complimentary.  

 

Christ is Born! Happy New Year!  (A sermon given at St. Barbara’s)    

The Art of Hospitality

(With Thanksgiving and Christmas just around the corner, I thought it might be helpful to focus on a few ancient and modern examples of extraordinarily hospitable individuals.  They were known for receiving others into their homes, sharing what they had in the spirit of brotherly affection.)

 

Exaggerated examples are useful when trying to make a point. We often employ this method of instruction when speaking with children. A parent says to a child, “Why did you do that? You could have broken a window!” “Well Michael did it first,” the child replies. “Well, if Michael jumped off a cliff, would you?” The parent hopes that a valuable lesson can be taught by pointing out – however overstated – potential results from indiscriminately following a friend’s lead.

 

In the books of the Gospel, Jesus used a similar method of instruction. He sometimes told parables depicting exaggerated conditions. The exaggerations enhanced the meaning and scope of the stories.

 

Take, for instance, the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant (Matthew 18:21-35).  A man is forgiven an overwhelming debt by his Master. This same individual immediately casts a fellow servant into prison for a small amount of money owed.  The glaring contrast between the two situations highlights both the great compassion and the gross insensitivity of which anyone is capable.   

 

And then, there is the lesson concerning Lazarus and the Rich Man (Luke 16:19-31). The extreme poverty of Lazarus coupled with his virtue, enables us to see a greatness open to Man even under duress. Not many of us are able to identify personally with Lazarus’s condition, and yet, that is the point. If Lazarus in his innocent and severe suffering can find it is his heart (according to the saints) not to blame God or Man for his situation; if at the end of his miserable life (by earthly standards) he can soar into Heaven, escorted by angels; then what excuse can there be for us not to reach the heights of virtue?

 

And what about the Rich Man? Who among us has experienced his life of excess? And yet, such an example of luxury and waste demonstrates that anyone can be indifferent toward others. No one is immune from a self-absorbed life and poor stewardship. A man may have resources to save tens of thousands, and yet never once stoop down to help one individual. On the other hand, a person may have next to nothing, but then double down on his situation using his poverty as an excuse for hurting others.

 

Whether he be rich or poor, however, a man’s condition may also move him to sympathize deeply with the less fortunate, to be for them a source of inspiration. Lazarus is such a person whose example has inspired Christians for 2000 years.

 

Overall, the lesson of Lazarus reminds us of the traditional importance of hospitality. It is significant that the name Abraham is prominent in this particular parable. He was known for showing hospitality to strangers. Abraham and Sarah entertained three men, sometimes described as angels, whose presence was a sign of God’s visitation. The Patriarch’s compassion at the Oak of Mambre stands in sharp contrast to the Rich Man’s insensitivity.

 

This episode from Genesis, chapter 18, is depicted artistically in what has been called the greatest icon ever painted – written – The Hospitality of Abraham by St. Andrei Rublev. He reposed in 1430 A.D. and his feast day is July 4. The inspired work is sometimes referred to as The Icon of the Holy Trinity. A large copy hangs in St. Barbara’s parish hall just above the pass-thru kitchen window.  The Trinity icon is offered for veneration in many parishes on the great feast of Pentecost (Trinity Sunday) and on the feast of Theophany, because at our Lord’s baptism, “the worship of the Trinity was made manifest” (Troparion).

 

In various cultures hospitality is a long-standing art, as well as a discipline.  It combines creativity and imagination along with diverse expressions of local and foreign customs.  To this day, for instance, at any Serbian American Slava – a family’s patronal feast – the beauty of hospitality is on display. The family observes ancient Christian rites and social graces as they entertain friends. The hosts carefully tend to the needs of their guests.

 

Hospitality, however, involves more than sharing food, housing and cultural traditions. Broadly speaking, it includes a generous state of mind and spirit, receiving others respectfully as well as joyfully into one’s life. In spite of his extreme poverty Lazarus possessed such a spirit, demonstrated by his humility and refusal to cast blame.

 

Within Orthodox tradition numerous saints were known to have welcomed strangers into their humble abodes, sharing what little they had. On the liturgical calendar there is even a man by the name of Sampson the Hospitable (+ 530 A.D.). Sampson happened to be a wealthy physician who turned his home into a free clinic, providing patients with food, shelter and medical assistance. He was later ordained a priest and persuaded the Emperor Justinian the Great (+ 565 A.D.) to establish a hospital for the poor. It became the largest free clinic in the empire and served the people of Constantinople for six centuries.

 

We Orthodox in the South were blessed for forty-plus-years to have had a strong local example of hospitality in the person of His Eminence Dmitri, Archbishop of Dallas and the South (+ August 28, 2011). His Pascha, Pentecost and Christmas receptions were well received, adding to the spirit of the feasts. These yearly “soirées” were natural gestures proceeding from a generous heart.  In addition to the much beloved dinners were countless gifts from the Archbishop to individuals, families, seminarians, clergy, churches and veterans in need. A large portion of his salary went to assist those less fortunate and to struggling missions.  A child of the Great Depression, His Eminence knew what it meant to be without basic necessities. He was, therefore, guided through life by a spirit of hospitality and charity.

 

Inspirational for me, as well, was an Orthodox woman who reposed in the 1970’s. I was quite familiar with her life story. She was an immigrant from Russia whose family life in America was extremely difficult.  She raised nine children on a small two-acre farm.  Her husband had a second job, also physically demanding. In spite of their hard and modest life, this woman never refused beggars who passed by the house: the couple, like the Archbishop, lived during the Great Depression. She tried her best to offer food and drink to strangers in need. As a quiet yet powerful example of hospitality, she instilled this same generous spirit in her children.

 

The Gospel lesson from Luke 16 presents us with two extremes: Man at his worst in the person of the Rich Man, and then Lazarus – Man at his best – overcoming every obstacle, staying true to God’s Law written on the human heart, no matter how difficult the circumstances.

 

Life presents us continually with these same lessons, these two extremes and everything in the middle. It is fortunate that most of us have had people in our lives who are loving and faithful.  Such individuals just naturally embody the precepts of the Gospel. Let us strive to learn from them, receiving them with joy as personal revelations of generosity given by God.

 

A Brotherhood of Man

1 Corinthians 1:10-18

(From a sermon at St. Barbara’s) August 28 will be the fourteenth anniversary of the repose of Archbishop Dmitri (Royster).  The founding hierarch of the Diocese of the South was known to be intuitive and a gifted communicator with a good sense of humor.  Over the years he developed an effortless style of speaking, combining wit and a natural ability to read his audience. He was particularly effective when addressing brother priests and concelebrants in Christ.    

 

A story from his early episcopacy highlights these gifts.  Consecrated in 1969, he served as Bishop of the Diocese of New England from 1971 to 1978.  According to His Eminence, at one of his first clergy retreats in Connecticut he offered the priests and deacons a reflection on Church life in the twentieth century. He introduced his talk with words similar to the following: “Brothers, today we are going to address problems confronting the modern Church. So, if you will please turn your bibles to the first chapter of St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians.”

 

This opening comment was spot-on for the occasion, drawing a bit of laughter from the clergy. His intended message hit home with retreat participants: namely, when it comes to the nature of man – the fallen human condition – there is nothing new under the sun. No sin, vice, sorrow or joy experienced here and now, is totally unique when compared to the lives of people centuries ago, when compared even to contemporaries of St. Paul.

 

And what, in fact, did we hear from First Corinthians this morning? The same words referenced by His Eminence over fifty years ago in New England. St. Paul calls his flock to unity amid strife and division. The Apostle had received reports about factions within the Corinthian Church.  He wrote, "It has been declared to me concerning you, my brethren, that there are contentions among you...that each of you says, I am of Paul, or I am of Apollos, or I am of Cephas, or I am of Christ..." Believers were aligning themselves with one teacher or another. This led to divisiveness within the Body.

 

As for Paul, he was the founder of the Corinthian Church, so it was natural that some individuals identified themselves with the beloved Apostle.  Apollos was an eloquent teacher and preacher, so naturally his influence on others was great. And then St. Peter, or Cephas, was the recognized leader or spokesman for the Twelve, so his authority was also exceptional.

 

St. Paul, as we might expect, had no problem with those who simply identified themselves as followers of Christ. In fact, in his call for unity, Paul appeals directly to the Person of Jesus:  "I plead with you, brethren, by the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing, and there be no divisions among you, but that you be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment..."

 

Is this not a hallmark of Orthodox Christianity, that for 2000 years the official voice, the official word of the faithful, has been to express the truth of our beliefs with one mind, one judgment, regardless of time or place? This, in itself, is a great miracle. What do we sing at each Liturgy: “Let us love one another that with one mind we may confess, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, the Trinity, one in essence and undivided.”

 

But is it not also true, that in our struggles to live in harmony, to present a united front as members of the risen Lord, that in those struggles, because of our personal sinfulness and tireless actions of the devil, we often quarrel, we experience division and factions even within the Body of Christ? It should not be that way, but that is sometimes our experience of Church life in this fallen world. It was true in the first century Church, and it has been true in the life of the Church ever since.

 

Many people, unfortunately, fall back on these negatives to explain their rejection of Christ, of the Church, of organized religion. They stress that, “the followers of Jesus (religious people in general) are quite often liars, gossipers, and mean spirited.”  This leads then to the inevitable question: “why, therefore, should I join in their fellowship?”

 

It is difficult to debate the legitimacy of such experiences. Even St. John Chrysostom (+ 407 A.D.) delivered an oft-quoted sermon in which he spoke figuratively of Christians devouring and preying upon one another through malicious slander and gossip (see also Galatians 5:15). But what is missing from the above equation – i.e., the rationale that leads to a rejection of Christ and the Church – is an understanding of the Body as something that transcends the sum total of our combined membership, that transcends our ugliness.  The Church is a divine – human reality that exists to save mankind from the very sins just enumerated.

 

What is also missing is the perception of our own personal hypocrisy: we are all guilty of it to one degree or another. The fact that people who cast aside the Gospel and the Body of Christ because of the way Christians behave, these same individuals suffer from identical sins displayed by those whom they frown upon. What is missing, therefore, and needs to be rediscovered by all of us, is the existence of a “brotherhood of man.”  We are all in the same boat, in need of salvation, in need of every word, deed and thought finding redemption in the Lord. 

 

In that sense, I am no different from you, you are no different from me: we share a common fallen humanity.  In Christ, however, the chance is given to break free from the corruption that holds all men captive. 

    

In light of today’s lesson from First Corinthians, I would encourage us to reflect – wherever applicable – upon the struggles we each deal with daily in terms of division or animosity toward others. In doing so, please focus on at least two main things:

 

(A)  First, the big picture: that there is nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1:9).  Anything we experience in 2025, is akin to the struggles and temptations that have afflicted Christians for two thousand years, even the saints.

 

(B) In addition, let us please remember that the saints are saints, because they overcame sin and personal weakness by keeping their eye on the prize – our Lord Jesus Christ – not on other people. They focused on the words of St. Paul to the Philippians (4:8): “Brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

      

May we find it within ourselves to do just that, at all times, by God’s divine grace.

 

That I may not thirst…

John 4:5-42

As recorded by St. John, during His ministry the Lord had a remarkable encounter with a woman of Samaria. Remarkable for several reasons, especially in light of restrictions initially placed on the Apostles, limits concerning those whom they were to evangelize. Christ had instructed them: “Go nowhere among the Gentiles,” and He specifically said, “enter no town of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the House of Israel...”

And so, the disciples were surprised, they “marveled” (John 4:27) when they witnessed their Master speaking at Jacob’s Well, not only with a Samaritan, but with woman. At that time, it would have been highly unusual for a Jewish male, especially a Rabbi, to engage any woman in theological discourse, let alone a female outsider.

Yet, the Gospel tells us that despite their astonishment, the Apostles did not dare ask Jesus, “Why are you speaking with her?” (John 4:27) They knew their proper place as students of the Lord, “so they restrained their tongues,” according to St. Cyril of Alexandria. They remained silent “out of reverence for their Master, awaiting the Lord to speak on His own accord.” 

Bishops are traditionally afforded a similar degree of respect, as living icons of Christ within the Christian community. Even their closest advisors will not question them publicly on each decision where the rationale is unclear. They often “restrain their tongues” in spite of bewilderment or insatiable curiosity.  “Out of reverence” they wait for bishops to provide clarity at appropriate times. 

Restrictions for the Apostles were, of course, temporary.  Jesus would later command His followers to: “Go therefore, and make disciples of all nations…” (Matthew 28:19). And, it must be pointed out that Christ was never Himself bound by restrictions. Thus, He did reach out to people such as the Samaritan Woman, individuals that most Jews would have shied away from. This woman however, belonged to a people destined eventually to hear the Gospel. She possessed an open heart willing to receive the Good News of Christ, and this is what motivated Jesus to orchestrate the time and place for their discussion.

He saw in her – even from afar – great worth and potential, and she, for her part, did not disappoint: she ran to the men of the town, telling them of her encounter with Christ; she became an Equal to the Apostles for her missionary efforts in Northern Africa; and she is considered a Great Martyr, because she offered her own life for Christ 30 years after the Resurrection.  For her profound insights and faith, she was baptized Photini, “the enlightened one.” Female names with similar meaning are Svetlana, Claire, Clara and Lucia.

The Lord’s dialogue with Photini has inspired Christians for 2000 years. It has also challenged them to reflect upon what it means to worship God, “in Spirit and in Truth” (John 4:24), what it means to receive from Christ the Living Water which satisfies all thirst.

A basic truth revealed to Photini was that the temple of God is not a building, city, mountain top, shrine, or even a religion (per se). Ultimately, the temple of God is the human person. Paul asserts this fundamental belief while preaching in Athens as recorded in Acts 17 (24-31), and in his 1st Epistle to the Corinthians (3:16). 

Also, will we not celebrate at Pentecost in just a few weeks, the glory of God descending, not upon an earthly structure or institution, but upon the disciples gathered in Jerusalem? Will we not hear on that day, from the Prophecy of Joel (2:28), that “God’s Spirit will be poured out on all flesh, that the sons and daughters of Israel will prophecy, that the elders will dream dreams, and young men see visions?”  And hearing those words, will we not then recognize ourselves as recipients of those promises, members of the New Israel, baptized, then experiencing our own personal Pentecost through the sacrament of Chrismation? 

The persistence of the Samaritan Woman paid off greatly for both her and her family. Her two sons and five sisters embraced the Faith and became martyrs for Christ. Because of their devotion the daughter of Nero converted, along with a prison guard charged with watching Photini’s children.

Photini’s determination points also to humanity’s endless search for Truth, for the meaning of life, man’s desire for the Ultimate.  “Give me this water,” she asked, “that I may not thirst…” (John 4:15). Only God can provide such an experience of complete satisfaction. People err greatly when they seek fulfillment – in a complete sense – from anything in this life, be it possessions, power, careers, leisurely pursuits, even human relationships.

When Photini left the well to call upon the villagers, she also left her waterpot. According to the Saints, this seemingly insignificant act demonstrated that the woman no longer considered water from Jacob’s Well of great importance, when compared to the Living Water that comes through the presence and teaching of Christ.

The Samaritan Woman found her heart’s desire, in the Person of Jesus. In so doing, she points the way to salvation for each man, woman and child. We are all created in the Divine Image, for eternal communion with God, along with our brothers and sisters in Christ. We find no genuine rest in the life until we understand and appreciate these fundamental precepts of the Faith.  St. Augustine (4th and 5th centuries) writes in his Confessions: “…You have made us (Lord) and drawn us to Yourself, and our heart is restless until it finds rest in You.”

May we reaffirm to ourselves these blessed truths, during the rest of the Paschal season. May we follow the enlightened example of St. Photini, the Great Martyr and equal to the Apostles.

Bright Thursday Sermon

Christ is Risen!

Bright Week as we know, is a special time for Orthodox Christians. We are called to let the light of Christ’s resurrection illumine every facet of our existence, allow His victory over death and His abiding presence be the inspiration for all that we do, say and think. And not just this week, but throughout the year.

From the Book of Acts this morning we heard a portion – just a small portion – of St. Peter’s first sermon given on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:38-43). As a result of his exhortation 3000 people were cut to the heart, repented and baptized. 3000 people! For many, a preacher’s dream.

And yet, as miraculous as this was humanly speaking, it is important to know that St. Peter, or any of the Apostles, would have been the first to ascribe the power of their preaching as coming from God Himself. Indeed, the content of their preaching was the Person of Christ. They did not preach the Church (or for our purposes the Orthodox Church), nor one religion over another, not even one charismatic disciple over another. Their focus was the Person of Jesus as the crucified, risen Messiah. This was their message to Israel and ultimately to the world.

Sometimes that emphasis is lost in our day and time. Christians seem to be in competition with one another constantly, in ways only secondarily having to do with Jesus. Unfortunately, their message to others reflects that misplaced emphasis. But really, this is nothing new. Even in the early Church, the Corinthians were warned about centering their faith around one or more “electrifying leaders,” be it Apollos, Cephas or even Paul himself (1 Corinthians 1:10-17).

Later, in his first sermon – from which we heard today – Peter referenced the gift of the Holy Spirit. Such a gift fulfilled the Prophecy of Joel: “In those days (says the Lord), I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions. Even upon the menservants and maidservants I will pour out my spirit” (Acts 2:14-18).

In other words, regardless of age, gender or social status, all will prophesy with the advent of the Comforter. People will fulfill their destiny to be prophets, with the calling to bring the Word of God to bear on every situation, the possibility of knowing God, discerning His will, speaking the truth in love, and letting God’s will guide every action. We all have that particular calling, to be prophets as those united to the Prophet, our Lord Jesus Christ.

But again, as the Apostles would readily affirm, the ability to enact any of this – even to convert 3000 souls – the power to pull this off, always belongs to God. In our pride that is often one of the most difficult lessons for us to learn, both clergy and laymen alike. Even in our work for the Church: that it’s not about us, our talents, our skills, our gifts, or whatever. It is ultimately about God: His Love, His Truth, His Grace, and ultimately His Church, His Body, His People.

There is a scene in the Gospel of St. Luke, describing Cleopas and another disciple traveling on the Road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-31). They were conversing, even debating according to some translations, about what had happened to Jesus, speaking on the limited plane of human thought, and suffering from doubt, according to St. Theophylact. Ultimately, these men were enlightened through the breaking of bread (an image of the Eucharist) and later through the gift of the Spirit.

This same gift, this same enlightenment is given to us. Bright Week and the Paschal Season are perfect times – in the splendor of the Resurrection – to open ourselves more fully to such divine revelations. We can then break free from what is sometimes a shallow approach to life and even to the Church itself. We can perhaps rediscover with more power and confidence the dignity we possess as children and prophets of the Most-High. That in and behind everything we do as Christians is the Person of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Christ is Risen!