The Theatre of Worship? Anticipating Palm Sunday and Pascha

A prominent feature of the main Paschal service is the outdoor midnight procession. The faithful sing repeatedly, “Thy Resurrection, O Christ our Savior…,” while circling the Church three times. Some have described this procession as “a dramatic liturgical reminder” of the myrrh-bearing women coming to Christ’s tomb very early in the morning.

A similar approach to religious symbolism is used to explain particulars of Palm Sunday, especially in non-Orthodox communities. Tree branches, processions, donkeys, men dressed as centurions on horses, and shouts of “Hosanna,” are said to portray – recreate – the Lord’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem.

Orthodox Church services, however, are not theatre, in spite of what some call “the pageantry of liturgy.” Believers, on occasion, may certainly participate in religious plays conducted outdoors, in parish halls or auditoriums for entertainment and educational purposes. In their worship, however, the faithful never pretend to be something or someone they are not. Icons, processions, hymns, festal decor and the like, these are not simply vivid reminders of history. Neither are they used to help congregants “get a feel” for what things must have been like in Jesus’s day. Instead, such symbols indicate the power of the unseen in our midst, our participation – here and now – in the works of the Lord, accomplished centuries ago for the salvation of all.

Thus, each Spring, we recall that Pascha was the time in the early Church for receiving catechumens into the Faith.  After their immersion in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, which took place typically in a lake, stream or baptistry, the newly illumined would walk in procession to the Church for their first experience of the Paschal Divine Liturgy.

In our day, the midnight procession can indeed serve the same purpose for those received into the Faith at Easter. For most Orthodox Christians, however, it is a beautiful reaffirmation of their personal participation in the death and resurrection of Christ.  It recalls the triple procession around the fount at their own baptism years ago and is, therefore, a point of rededication, a forward movement circling the House of God, indicating a desire to advance in the Faith.  

The timing of the procession – the stroke of 12:00 – in the dark of night, the faithful returning minutes later to a brilliantly lit Church, makes strikingly clear the ongoing battle in this world between the powers of good and evil, the dark forces that led to our Lord’s crucifixion, followed by His glorious victory over Satan.  It serves to highlight Jesus’s words, “the Light shines in the darkness and the darkness comprehended it not” (John 1:5), and the words of St. Gregory the Theologian who referred to Pascha as, “the night that is brighter than any day.”  We also recall the Parable of the Maidens, referenced at Matins during Holy Week, “Behold, the Bridegroom comes at midnight, and blessed is he whom He shall find watching, and again, unworthy is the one whom He shall find heedless” (Matthew 25:1-13).

The meaning of Palm Sunday for modern Christians is affirmed with equal strength throughout the liturgy.  A week prior to Pascha we celebrate the presence of an eternal Kingdom, revealed on this day in the Person of Christ, as He entered the Holy City, riding on “the foal of an ass.”  We stand with branches in hand during the services and, “commemorate this event with exactly the same joy as those who greeted Jesus, as if we ourselves were standing on the street of Jerusalem, waiting, welcoming, exulting and repeating the very same words…” (Fr. Alexander Schmemann). And yet, we are not those people, but the presence of the Lord – His Kingdom – is every bit as real for us in 2024, as it was for them in 33 A.D. 

So, we take the Palms each year, and mindful of the past we raise them high in the air, decorate our Churches and make processions, celebrating the meaning – today – of these colorful rituals. “(As we experience) once again the thunder of that royal Hosanna, we say to ourselves and to the world:  Christ’s Kingdom lives. The Kingdom that shone so brightly on that day in Jerusalem has not died, it has not perished, it has not disappeared from the face of the earth. We say to God (here and now) “You are the one Lord, You are our only King; we know and believe and affirm that this Kingdom of Your love will be victorious over sin, evil and death.  The joy of this faith no one can take from us, even if others put all their hope in power and violence, even if their only belief is in bullets, prisons, terror and torture.  No, this kingdom of violence, evil and lies will not stand. It will collapse, as every previous kingdom has collapsed, as every previous tyrant has vanished. But Your Kingdom, Lord, will remain.  And the time will come when with Your love You will wipe every tear from our eyes, dissolve every sorrow in Your joy, and fill the world You created with the light of immortality” (Fr. Alexander Schmemann).

So, as Orthodox Christians enter the latter days of Lent, approaching Holy Week with the special hymns, rites, symbols, decorations, dimly lit chapels giving way to the light of victory on Pascha night, the eternal, and eternally relevant meaning of all this has to be remembered, and thus, entered into.  How often have people mistakenly likened our Church, our Faith, to a museum of beautiful relics, ancient rituals, interesting artifacts and teachings having little significance for modern man. Orthodox Christians themselves are sometimes guilty – unconsciously – of describing Orthodoxy in these terms. Well-meaning “Church tours,” for instance, can give such impressions as the glories of the past are enthusiastically described. Centuries old architecture, hymnography, styles of music, vestments and icons are explained in detail – symbolically – without relevance for the present, without application given for our present-day world. 

The power of the Faith, however, lies in the ability of believers to make clear the contemporary meaning of all that we do and teach. The past is brought into the present while anticipating the Kingdom to come, already given in the Person of Christ.

Let’s recall that on Palm Sunday we will sing, “Like the children with the palms of victory, we cry out to Thee (now) O Vanquisher of death: Hosanna in the highest, blessed is He that comes in the Name of the Lord.”  And on Pascha night, “Thy Resurrection, O Christ our Savior, the angels in Heaven sing, enable us on earth (now) to glorify Thee in purity of heart.”  The continual dwelling in our midst of Christ the King – and our faithful response – remains the constant experience of Orthodox Christians, the ultimate relevance and power of our beautiful and colorful worship.

(Quotes herein are taken from, Celebration of Faith:  Sermons, Volume 2: The Church Year, by Fr. Alexander Schmemann and published by St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Seminary Press.)   

Honoring the Great Fast

Thoughts from St. John Chrysostom (347-407)

Orthodox Christians will enter the Great Fast on Monday, March 18.  In preparation, I would like to highlight St. John Chrysostom’s words concerning the Spirit of the Fast, offered to the people of Antioch during a very turbulent time.  Some of the following is slightly edited for the sake of space and clarity.

“To honor the Fast,” John said – to follow it properly – “is to withdraw from sinful practices, since he who limits his fasting only to an abstinence from meats, is the one who makes light of it. Do you fast, then give me proof of it by your works!”

What kind of works? “If you see a poor man, take pity on him. If you see an enemy, be reconciled to him. If you see a friend gaining honor, do not envy him. If you see a beautiful woman, pass her by. Do not let the mouth fast only, but also the eye, the ear, the feet, the hands, and all members of the body.” 

John goes on to say, “Let the hands fast, by being pure from theft and avarice. Let the feet fast, by not running to unrighteous spectacles. Let the eyes fast, being taught never to fix themselves rudely upon a beautiful countenance.”

Chrysostom strengthens his exhortation, referring to the harm inflicted on others through slander and hateful words. “Let the mouth fast also from disgraceful speeches and railings against men. For what does it profit if we abstain from birds and fishes, yet we bite and devour our brethren? The one who speaks evil, eats the flesh of his brother, and bites the body of his neighbor. (To be sure), you have not (literally) fixed your teeth into your neighbor’s flesh, but you have fixed slander in the soul, and inflicted the wound of evil suspicion. You have harmed in a thousand ways, yourself and others, for in slandering a neighbor you have made him who listens to the slander, even worse than before.”

Chrysostom emphasizes the harm to the Church overall, resulting from the unrighteous behavior of its members. This too, makes void the power of Lenten externals. “With your misconduct in speech you strike at the common welfare of the Body, for all those who hear your words, not only accuse the supposed sinner, but the reproach is fastened on the Christian community. The non-believers (whose attention is drawn to the sins of the faithful), hold all Christians accountable for the transgressions of the (one) individual.” In addition, John states that, “A slanderer causes the glory of God to be blasphemed, for as His Name is glorified when we hear good reports, so when we sin, it is insulted!”

Finally, as a help and clarification, St. John provides methods for correcting the neighbor, while keeping the Spirit of the Fast. He says to pray for others. When necessary, however, we should admonish, counsel and entreat people privately – not publicly – demonstrating charity toward sinners, showing that we seek to guide them out of love and concern.

There is an inspiring, related episode in the life of St. Sergius of Radonezh, 14th century. It was said that even as an abbot, this great man would never publicly shame monastics under his care. If a monk, for instance, needed correction, Sergius would often go to the person’s cell (his room) and knock on the door. When the monk asked, “Yes, what is it?” Sergius – through the closed door – would simply reply, “You know what it is,” and then leave, allowing the monk’s conscience to provide the lesson.

Great Lent is upon us. At this point my conscience, your conscience, should be speaking to us as well. The power of the Fast is great if followed correctly. Church attendance, personal prayer and good deeds, as well as abstinence from various foods, these comprise just one part of the effort, and, truth be told, the least difficult. It is far easier to change what I do, than to change what I have become, through a life of sin and neglect.

During the forty days, believers are called to focus their gaze on Christ. They are to “flee from the pride of the Pharisee, and learn humility from the Publican’s tears” (Kontakion, second pre-Lenten Sunday). They will seek a proper understanding of their own thoughts and actions. Such clarity of mind is the essence of humility: the ability to see things as they truly are.  Christians must guard their senses from temptations, devote themselves to prayer and charity.

In addition, those who genuinely want to have a “successful Fast,” will strive to do no harm to others. If nothing else, we can start with this one basic exercise in compassion: refrain from harming others. Let that be a major focus for Lent.  Orthodox Christians will also seek reconciliation with those from whom they are estranged, and then – this is something anyone can do – they will try to offer forgiveness to all, in light of Christ’s example from the Cross.  To Him be all glory, honor and worship, now and ever and unto ages of ages.  Amen.

by Fr. Basil Zebrun
(From a sermon at St. Barbara’s)

More Difficult to Build than to Destroy

(The following is a slightly edited version of a sermon delivered at St. Barbara’s. With Great Lent approaching (begins March 18) and the Church’s emphasis on personal relationships during the Fast, some of these thoughts may prove beneficial as we prepare for Pascha).

This morning I would like to speak generally about a topic that, in my limited experience, is rarely discussed outside of a seminary, clergy gathering or confession.  It is, nevertheless, something for everyone to think about periodically for their own well-being, the overall health of the Church and perhaps for society in general. 

Let me start with a brief description of a local happening. In April 2023, a large, unfinished apartment complex, just around the corner, was totally destroyed by fire, reduced overnight to ashes. What took months to build was gone in three or four hours. Arson was officially deemed as the cause of the blaze. Fortunately, no lives were lost, nor were any nearby structures affected.  

In a way, that tragic event is a metaphor for life. Anything worthwhile or constructive takes time, patience and effort. Its destruction, however, is swift and easy to achieve. That for which others labor many months, years, even a lifetime, can be ruined completely, almost in an instant, given the right conditions.

We can apply these same thoughts to the life of the Church. Consider first, how difficult it is for many people on a spiritual quest to find the path that leads to Christ. Think about the time they put into a search. Then follows the prayer and study, not to mention the friendships they develop along the way.  Finally, they reach the point where they have readied themselves for baptism, where they can say with all sincerity: “We have seen the True Light, we have received the Heavenly Spirit, we have found the True Faith, worshipping the undivided Trinity…” (A hymn at the end of the Divine Liturgy).

Look also at people who have been in the Church for decades, perhaps from infancy. Their entire life, their identity, is bound up with God’s household.

Now, consider in the words of our Diocesan Chancellor, Fr. Marcus Burch, consider how fragile is the spiritual life of any given parish, of any parishioner. To be sure, the Church overall, world-wide, is strong beyond our comprehension. It is the Body of Christ. It has weathered historically and triumphantly every conceivable challenge. To paraphrase our Lord, “the gates of Hell cannot, and did not, prevail” (Matthew 16:18).

Be that as it may, local Church communities and individual members are far more susceptible to temptation, vulnerable to the corruption of this world, to mistakes we make in speech and conduct. Knowing this, realizing our neighbor’s vulnerabilities, we certainly – in the words of St. Paul – do not wish to become “stumbling blocks,” placing obstacles before others, pushing them away from Christ rather than bringing them into His presence (1 Corinthians 8).

Sadly, such tragedies occur. People, as well as whole parishes, are easily led astray by well-intentioned but misinformed or misguided individuals. To be sure, none of us wants to admit that he or she may be guilty of contributing to such things, but it does happen, often without any knowledge of our errors.

Hearkening back to our opening remarks, it becomes far too easy to destroy, rather than to build, to weaken – almost without effort – the faith and zeal of others, through indifference, flippant remarks, personal criticisms, and a cynical outlook on life.  Much more difficult – and this would be the point – much more difficult, but so necessary, is to bolster the faith of others by holding in our hearts the love and truth of Christ, when such truth must include loving a corrupt world, while affirming its inherent beauty; loving the sinner, accepting him as a brother along with his many faults and weaknesses.

Such a delicate balance, such a fine line believers walk each and every day. That balance enables us not to take any shortcuts, but to do what is most difficult: to lift up the neighbor who has doubts, to bring hope to people on the verge of losing what little faith they possess, recognizing sin wherever it may be, without offering criticisms devoid of compassion and guidance.

Some of the best preachers I ever heard were those who imparted to their audience, through words, a glimpse of the Kingdom.  I am sure you have had similar experiences. Their sermons may have contained some harsh analyses of society, but the intention was never simply to tear down the world around them, pointing out imperfections. Heaven in our midst, in spite of sin, was always the focus of their preaching, not the criticisms. Their purpose was not to destroy, but to build, to enlighten. One could feel the adoration they possessed of God’s Kingdom, their willingness to sacrifice everything if needed in order to share that reality with others. Heaven was their ultimate home and everyone knew it.

I have always marveled at such individuals, not simply out of respect for their “quote” achievements, but because of their ceaseless devotion that, frankly, made their words come alive, however modest or scholarly. They walked admirably that fine line of a Christian, pointing out the roads that lead to destruction, while guiding their audience to a higher and better way of life.

I offer these simple thoughts as something that might move us to desire the same qualities as great leaders in our midst today, and “those who have gone to their rest before us.” We owe them much, including the example of how the Faith, when authentically lived and preached, is much more than an indictment against anything and everything that is “quote” non-Christian around us. The Good News is meant to offer, not resentment and confusion, but hope and clarity to its adherents, and to those who have not yet discovered the authentic Christ. May we be given the wisdom and strength to discern and follow this divine path.  This, especially, as enter the Pre-Lenten season on February 18, the Sunday of Zacchaeus.

Thoughts at the Start of a New Year

+ Metropolitan Anthony Bloom

Metropolitan Bloom makes some rather sobering comments that refer to specific events decades ago. His thoughts, however, remain relevant for the start of any New Year.  His opening words, “Before we pray…” as well as his references to “Blessed is the Kingdom…,” to ‘looking back at the past year,’ and to prayers for forgiveness, lead us to imagine that this sermon was given just prior to the start of the Divine Liturgy on January 1).  

Before we pray, I should like to introduce our prayers so that when we pray, we do it more effectively, with one mind and with one heart.  Year after year I have spoken of the New Year that was coming, in terms of a plain covered with snow, unspoiled, pure, and I called our attention to the fact that we must tread responsibly on this expanse of whiteness still unspoiled, because according to the way in which we tread, there will be (either) a road cutting through the plain following the will of God, or wandering steps that will only soil the whiteness of the snow. But a thing that we cannot and must not forget – this year perhaps more than on many previous occasions – is that, surrounding, covering this whiteness as with a dome, there is darkness, a darkness with few or many stars, but a darkness (that is) dense, opaque, dangerous and frightening.  We come out of a year when darkness has been perceived by all of us, when violence and cruelty are still rife.

How shall we meet it?  It would be naive, and it would be very unchristian, to ask God to shield us against it, to make of the Church a haven of peace while around us there is no peace. There is strife, there is tension, there is discouragement, there are fears, there is violence, there is murder.  We cannot ask for peace for ourselves if this peace does not extend beyond the Church, does not come as rays of light to dispel the darkness. One Western spiritual writer has said that the Christian is one to whom God has committed responsibility for all other men, and this responsibility we must be prepared to discharge.  In a few moments we will entreat for both the unknown and the darkness, the greatest blessing which is pronounced in our liturgical services, 'Blessed is the Kingdom of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit' - blessed in the kingship of God.

These words are spoken rarely:  at the beginning of services, at the outset of the Liturgy, as a blessing upon the New Year, and at moments when eternity and time unite, when with the eyes of faith, we can see eternity intertwined with time, and conquering.  The Christian is one who must be capable of seeing history as God sees it, as a mystery of salvation but also as a tragedy of human fallenness and sin.  And with regard to both we must take our stand. Christ says in the Gospel, ‘When you will hear of wars and rumors of wars, be ye not troubled.’ Lift up your heads, there is no space in the heart and in the life of the Christian for cowardice, faintheartedness and fear, which are all born of selfishness, concern for self, even if it extends to those whom we love.  God is the Lord of history, but we must be co-workers with God, and we are sent by Him into this world in order to make the discordant city of men, into the harmony which will be called the city of God.

And we must remember the words of the Apostle who says, whoever will wish to work for the Lord will be led into trial; and the words of another Apostle who tells us not to be afraid of trial by fire.  In the present world we must be prepared, ready for trials and ready to stand, perhaps with fear in our heart for lack of faith, but unshaken in the service of God and the service of men.

And when we look back at the past year the words of the litany hit us and accuse us. We ask God to forgive us all that we have done, or left undone, in the past year.  We claim to be Orthodox.  To be Orthodox does not mean only to confess the Gospel in its integrity and proclaim it in its purity, but it consists, even more than this, in living according to the Gospel; and we know that Christ comes to no compromise with anything but the greatness of man and the message of love and worship.  We can indeed repent because who, looking at us, would say as people said about the early Christians, 'See how they love one another!' Who would say, looking at us, that we are in possession of an understanding of life, of a love, which makes us beyond compare, which causes everyone to wonder: Where does it come from?  Who gave it to them?  How can they stand the test of trial?  And if we want this year to be worthy of God, of our Christian calling, of the holy name of Orthodoxy, we must singly and as a body become to all, to each person who may need us, a vision of what man can be and what a community of men can be under God.

Let us pray for forgiveness, we who are so far below our calling.  Let us pray for fortitude, for courage, for determination to discount ourselves, to take up our cross, to follow in the footsteps of Christ whithersoever He will call us.

At the beginning of the war King George VI spoke words which can be repeated from year to year. In his message to the Nation he read a quotation: “‘I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown,’ and he replied: ‘Go out into the darkness and put your hand in the hand of God; that shall be better to you than light, and safer than a known way.’”

This is what we are called to do, and perhaps we should make today a resolution, determined to be faithful to our calling and begin the New Year with courage.  Amen.

What Kind of God do Christians Follow?

It has been said by many people, “there are no atheists.” More specifically, each person has a “god” that he or she knowingly or unknowingly worships. This deity may have a name, but essentially, whatever or whoever takes priority over everything else in life, or whatever serves as the ultimate source for one’s guiding principles, that, in effect, becomes a person’s god or idol.                

What kind of God do Christians follow? Let us begin with a quote from Fr. John Meyendorff, former dean of St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Seminary. Fr. John once wrote that, “God is not an idea to be understood, but a Person to meet,” specifically, the Person of Jesus Christ.

Such a critical and defining statement. It is one thing to believe in reasonable ideas and principles. It is quite another to encounter the Person Who embodies Christian doctrine, Who not only spoke the Truth about God and man, but Who said, “I am the Truth…” (John 14:6)

Our personal encounter with this Incarnate Lord reveals the depth of God’s love for creation, that He is love itself (1 John 4:8).  At the same time, Jesus brings us face to face with a God Whose actions seem foolish, unacceptable to many: they do not fit man’s general perception of how the Almighty should behave, what He should look like (1 Corinthians 1:23-25).

After all, what kind of God is born in a cavern and lies a manger of beasts? What kind of God takes upon Himself the frailties of human existence and unites Himself to sinners? What kind of God accepts abuse at the hands of servants, as well as a cursed death upon the cross? Furthermore, why would anyone follow such a God Who teaches that in order to live we must die (Matthew 10:39); that we are to repay hatred and cruelty with kindness and prayer (Matthew 5: 44); that we are to love as He has loved, when that very kind of love is what led to His own Crucifixion? (John 13:34).

Metropolitan Anthony Bloom wrote that, “The gods of antiquity, of philosophical discourse, were always images of the greatness of man, or of the greatness which man could perceive or imagine in a superhuman being.  What no religion, no philosophy, ever dared present was God as experienced by the Christians, a God Who becomes man, suffers and empties Himself of His splendor (His glory) in order to become fully and completely accessible to us.”

This unique divine revelation is precisely what we celebrate on Christmas Day, “what no religion, what no philosophy ever dared to present…,” a God Who identifies Himself completely with His creation; Who is not ashamed to call us brothers (Matthew 12:50); Who becomes everything that we are – apart from sin – so that we may become by grace everything that He is (Hebrews 2: 14-18; 2 Peter 1:3-4).

The Advent of Christ, therefore, is not only God’s self-revelation to the world, it also reveals man’s destiny.  Again, Fr. Meyendorff states that, “in God, man discovers his own humanity because he has been created as an image, an icon of (the Creator) and in Christ, man sees divinity as the true norm of humanity.”  The closer he gets to Jesus the more man becomes truly himself.  Conversely, the farther he is from Christ, the less human he becomes.

St. Paul communicates these same messages in terms of wealth and poverty, that man acquires authentic beauty and strength by way of God’s humility. Paul says, "Brethren, for you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might be rich." (2 Corinthians 8:9)

In this context, rich refers to the life of glory for which we were created, revealed through the Incarnation.  Here, we are far from the simple, popular notion that, “Christmas is for children.”  Indeed, Christmas is for the simple and pure of heart.  It is equally for “mature audiences only,” those who can appreciate the full implications of “God made man.”  Easier to accept the cozy, sentimental Christmas message on Hallmark greeting cards, than to hear a call to repentance, to a refashioning of the human spirit, “for God is with us” (Emmanuel; Matthew 1:23).

The implications of the Incarnation are vast. God Who is rich in His divine existence, became poor – emptied Himself, took the form of a servant – so that we might share the wealth of His glory.  This is the God in Whom Christians believe. This is why the faithful sing repeatedly on major feast days: “Who is so great a God, as our God? Thou art the God Who doest wonders” (the Great Prokeimenon).  Such wonders are found not merely in the majesty of creation. They are reflected in renewed spirits, the transformed hearts of those who follow the true God, Whose omnipotence and majesty are revealed through a life of perfect humility and love.

Bishop Gerasim Visit: December 3

We are excited to announce that Bishop Gerasim (Eliel), will visit St. Barbara’s on December 3, celebrating with us, our Patronal Feast. Although His Eminence Archbishop Alexander (Golitzin) of Dallas is the ruling hierarch of the Southern Diocese, he is aided greatly by His Grace Gerasim Bishop of Ft. Worth. 

In the Orthodox Church “the office of bishop is the leading Church ministry. The word bishop (episkopos in Greek) means overseer…He is the one (ultimately) responsible and answerable before God and man for the life of his particular diocese” (Fr. Thomas Hopko). Our own Diocese of the South includes 14 states, from New Mexico to the East Coast, from Virginia to the Gulf of Mexico.  It includes over 80 parishes and missions, as well as 3 monastic communities.

Orthodox hierarchs have “an identical share” in their particular vocation: that is to say, each is equally a bishop. No one bishop has authority over others. An auxiliary however, as assistant such as Bishop Gerasim, does follow directives given by the ruling bishop of his respective diocese.  In practice certain hierarchs have more natural – and at times formal – influence within the life of the Church, depending on their seniority, experience and education, as well as the historical significance of their Episcopal See(s): Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, etc.       

Episcopal visits are times of great joy.  We greet the bishop as a father in Christ, but also as a successor of the Apostles.  The faithful will formally greet His Grace at 9:30 am, December 3.

HIERARCHICAL RECEPTION:

The reception that day will be in compliance with the Nativity Fast, although fish and wine are allowed. The main dish has been planned taking the Fast into consideration, as well as His Grace’s dietary requirements. Additional Lenten dishes and desserts will be needed.  A sign-up sheet is now posted in the Church Hall. Please see Matushka Christine for more information.

In addition, we have planned a cleaning party on December 1.  Special choir and altar-server rehearsals will also be conducted. His Grace will be accompanied by at least one deacon, as well as a subdeacon from the Cathedral.  We will see everyone on December 3. Please arrive prior to 9:30 am. Those with food, 9:00 am or 9:15 is advisable. Thank you.    

St. Tikhon: Enlightener of North America and Visionary

Prior to the consecration of an Orthodox hierarch, he offers a public confession of the ancient faith he will both teach and defend. This is a special moment in the early stage of a man’s episcopacy, as is the first sermon given in his new Cathedral. Through both, the faithful get a sense of the bishop’s personality. They hear about principles set to characterize his ministry.

The man commemorated on October 9 – St. Tikhon, Enlightener of North America – entered his San Francisco cathedral for the first time on December 23, 1898. In his sermon that day, Tikhon’s love and humility were obvious. He offered, as well, a sense of direction for the young North American Church.

Orthodox Christians in the 21st century remember Tikhon as a man of vision. He was pastorally sensitive to the diverse makeup and challenges of the Church in this land. From the beginning he understood the necessity for all Church members – clergy and laymen alike – to utilize their gifts for the glory of God. In our time, there are those who take as a given, this comprehensive vision of the Christian life. Many, however, need reminding.  St. Tikhon and others laid a strong foundation upon which we and our children continue to build.

In his homily on December 23, 1898, Tikhon stated, “I ask brethren, for assistance and cooperation with me (as your new bishop) not only from the pastors, but also from all of my beloved flock. The holy Apostle Paul wisely compares the Church of Christ with a body, and a body has not one member but many…each member is necessary and cannot do without the other. They all care for one another, and there is no discord in the body.”

He went on to say that believers should look after their fellow man, use their God-given gifts for the building up of the American Church. “Edify each other (he said), warn those who are unruly, comfort the feeble-minded, support the weak, be patient toward all.  See that no one renders evil for evil unto any man; but ever follow that which is good, both among yourselves and to all men…”

In this first sermon – only a few pages long – the new Bishop Tikhon sets a tone, paints a broad picture of the Church he envisions, one that both Tikhon and his flock can build together. A Church in which everyone will realize their responsibilities toward fellow members, and toward the non-Christians yet to be evangelized.

While conveying this message, Tikhon’s love and humility are apparent. He refers to leaving his beloved homeland, his family and friends, to adopt as his people strangers he was meeting for the first time. He requests help from those who have lived and worked on this continent for years, and admits a certain ignorance, the need for advice.

“I enter this country for the 1st time; I know it little. But you have labored here for a long time, long before me; many of you have become intimately linked with it, and some were even born here. I hope in my forthcoming (episcopal ministry) that you will do a great service to me, with your knowledge of this land and its people, and that with your experience, you will become for me, true coworkers, men of advice and reason.”

Remembering our blessed father Tikhon, may we also be prepared to offer Godly counsel and tangible assistance to others, as opportunities present themselves. And, may we learn from his vision, his love and humility, utilizing our gifts for the glory of God, and for the building up of Christ’s Holy Church.

Comprehending the Written Word Through the Lens of Sacred Tradition

Metropolitan Kallistos (Ware)

It has been noted, time and again, that a person can make the Bible say anything he (or she) wants it to say.  Indeed, when left to their own devices, with little or no authentic spiritual guidance, individuals will inevitably base their own understanding of Scripture on personal likes and dislikes, social trends, the views of friends, of one or more political parties, even on the preaching of popular religious leaders. They can indeed, make the Bible say whatever they wish it to say, depending on their chosen instructors and sources of information.  The humble of heart, however, will always seek out – first and foremost – divine guidance from Christ Himself, “the Teacher,” the Living Word of God.

Metropolitan Kallistos (Ware) of blessed memory, offers four principles for Orthodox Christians to keep in mind as they explore God’s Word, keys to understanding the Bible through the lens of Sacred Tradition. The following is an edited version of Ware’s thoughts, with simple additions made to enhance or clarify specific points.

A SPIRIT of OBEDIENCE:

His Beatitude states that when reading Scripture, we are to listen in a spirit of obedience. We should approach the Word, ready to be guided along a definite path. The Bible is God’s will, His divine teaching given in human language. As such, it should evoke within us a sense of wonder, of expectation and surprise, as well as an eagerness to pay attention.

Within Holy Scripture there is much depth, a great deal of wisdom and majesty to discover. To do so, however, requires us to perform a most difficult task according to the Apostle James (James 3:1-12). We have to stop talking so much, and keep our minds – at least momentarily – from running in a dozen different directions. We have to quiet everything down to hear what the Lord is telling us through the pages of the Bible, in the depths of our hearts. This state of being, remaining calm, is absolutely essential, emphasized especially during the Lenten season.   

CONTINUITY and CONTEXT are IMPORTANT:

In addition, we are to interpret Scripture, through the Church and in the Church. It is the Body of Christ that gave Christians the Bible, that chose formally, 1700 years ago, which books would be included in a Canon of Scripture, and which would not, based on specific criteria. The Church has a centuries old understanding for each passage of the Bible, and She functions as a living guide for that understanding. Consider Acts, Chapter 8: coming upon an Ethiopian, as he read the Old Testament, Philip the Apostle asked him, "Do you understand what you are reading?" The Ethiopian answered, "How can I, unless someone should guide me?" Philip then, proceeded to offer the necessary instruction.

Spiritually, we are all in the position of the Ethiopian. The words of Scripture are not always self-explanatory; in part, that is why we see at least 30,000 variations of Christianity worldwide. God certainly speaks directly to the heart of each one of us as we read the Bible, no question. Scripture reading is a personal dialogue between each one of us and Christ. But we also need guidance, and our living, tangible guide is the 2000-year-old Sacred Tradition of the Church.

To be clear, we do make full use of our own personal understanding of Scripture, assisted by the Holy Spirit. We make full use as well, of the findings of modern Biblical research. But we always submit private opinion — whether our own or that of scholars — to the total experience of the Church throughout the ages.

When Christians speak of “spiritual security,” wanting assurances when it comes to knowledge and salvation, we would submit that the Orthodox Church’s approach to the Bible provides the utmost in certainty.  Believers find great comfort in knowing that their understanding of God’s Word matches that of a St. Athanasius or a St. John Chrysostom, giants in Church history, that we have these venerable fathers and countless others over the past two millennia, as instructors in the Faith. 

CHRIST CENTERED:

Scripture is approached as being Christ-centered. Salvation through the Messiah is the central topic, the unifying theme of all books of the Bible. The Person of Jesus is “a thread" as it were, that runs through the whole of Scripture, from the first sentence to the last, from Genesis to Revelation. Christ may be seen everywhere, foreshadowed on the pages of the Old Testament, just as He is spoken of directly in the New.

When approaching particularly the Old Testament, Orthodoxy assigns significance to the "typological" method of interpretation. "Types of Christ,” that is, signs and symbols of His work, are discerned throughout the Old Testament.

One notable example is the person of Melchizedek, the mysterious priest-king of Salem, who in Genesis, offered bread and wine to Abraham. Melchizedek is recognized as a type of Christ, not only by the Church Fathers, but even in the New Testament itself, specifically in Paul’s letter to the Hebrews. Christ is our Great High Priest, and also the King of Creation.

Melchizedek is referenced multiple times throughout the year, in liturgical celebrations. At Christmas, for instance, during the first entrance of the Liturgy, the clergy say: “Wisdom, let us attend:  Thou (O Lord) art a Priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek.”

SIGNIFICANCE of the BIBLE for ME:

And finally, Bishop Kallistos states that as Orthodox Christians we are to look everywhere in Scripture for a personal application. We are to ask not simply, "What does this mean?" but "What does this mean to me?" Scripture is a personal dialogue between the Savior and myself: Christ speaking to me, and me answering.

This is the fourth criterion for those reading the Bible. In fact, if I, as a Christian, do not apply this fourth criterion, then it might legitimately be asked, of what use are study and discussions, all of my prayers and the liturgical services that make abundant use of God’s Word?  What good is all of that, if I am not directing it toward my inner self?

I am called to see all the stories in Scripture as part of my own personal story. In Genesis, for instance, who is Adam? Well, the name Adam means "man," means "human." And so, when he is described as being created in God’s Image, I take comfort knowing that I also bear the stamp of that gift, and all related possibilities.

But the account of Adam's fall is also a story about me, my sins and failings. Let us recall the story of Cain and Abel: when God asks Cain, "Where is your brother?" these words, are addressed to each of us. Who is Cain? It is I myself, and indeed, God asks the Cain in each of us, "Where is your brother?" to remind us that the way to God lies through our brothers and sisters in Christ, our neighbors. Love for other people is essential. There is no other path to the Kingdom. When I disown my brother, I then replace the image of God in me with the mark of Cain, and I end up denying – in some way, large or small – my own humanity.

CONCLUSION:

In a nutshell, these are the thoughts of Metropolitan Kallistos Ware. We are to approach Scripture with these basic principles in mind: read it in obedience; as members of the Church; finding Christ everywhere; while seeing everything as a part of our own personal stories.

Through this method, we will sense something of the variety and depth to be found in the Bible. At the same time, we will undoubtedly feel that we have only scratched the surface of understanding Scripture. According to His Beatitude, we will find ourselves to be always at the beginning, like someone launching out in a tiny boat across a limitless ocean. But we have to start, we have to take those initial steps of study and contemplation.  We are to engage them as part of our own personal journey to growth and enlightenment in Christ.  

Sacred Music: Its Nature and Function

Department of Liturgical Music, Orthodox Church in America, 1977

(The following is an edited version of a wonderful, informative article found on oca.org.  For the sake of space some introductory material has been deleted.  We encourage everyone, however, to read the entire article at their convenience.  Given the central place of acapella music in the Orthodox Church – its history and often complexity – we thought the following might be of benefit.)

The Christian practice of worship included sacred music from the very beginning. At the Lord’s Supper when our Lord Jesus in­stituted the Mystery of His precious Body and Blood, He and His disciples sang a hymn before they departed to the Mount of Olives (Matthew 26:30, Mark 14:26). And Saint Paul, writing to the “faithful saints” in Ephesus, advised: “Be filled with the Spirit, addressing one anoth­er in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with all your heart.” (Ephesians 5:18-19).

The early Christians simply continued the Judaic heritage of chanting psalms, adding gradually new hymns which were specifically Christian in content. The notion that sacred music developed only after the age of the early Church persecutions is quite erroneous. In fact, it was through psalms and hymns that the intense band of the faithful expressed their strength and joy in the risen Lord during those long years of persecution. (The first three hundred years of the Church’s existence is often referred to as The Age of Martyrdom.) When the Church finally did emerge from that difficult era, its music continued and flourished as before.  

During the age of the Seven Ecumenical Councils (4th-8th Centuries), music in the Church received its definitive structure and character. Some of the cleverer heretics in that era knew well the power of music to capture human hearts. They shrewdly expressed their false doctrines in lively, catchy melodies which spread quickly among the people. But the character of the tunes, consonant with the falsity of their content, echoed the music of the theater and circus. In opposition to the heretics, the Church Fathers formulated guidelines for the music to be used in Orthodox worship. The main features of Orthodox sacred music defined during the Great Councils are still the canonical norms for church music today. They are outlined as follows:

FEATURES OF SACRED MUSIC:  

First and most obviously, the music is purely vocal. No accompanying organ or other instruments are used. The human voice alone glorifies God. There are a number of reasons for this. During the formative years of the Church, the organ, along with other musical instruments, were associated with the theater and circus; they evoked the whole atmosphere of pagan frivolity and licentiousness for the Christian. Even in the Western Church until the 15th Century instruments were not permitted. As late as the 16th Century in the West, the organ was hardly more than tolerated, the music being still mainly a cappella.

The deeper objection to instruments was that their use was considered not consonant with the spiritual nature of Christian worship. In the past Jewish worship had included them, but only as an accommodation to human weakness, to the spiritual imperfection of the man under the old Law. St. John Chrysostom said in this regard: “David formerly sang in psalms, we today also sing with him; he had a lyre with lifeless strings, the Church has a lyre with living strings. Our tongues are the strings of the lyre, with a different tone, indeed, but with a more accordant piety.”1 Christian worship is higher and more perfect by virtue of the perfect revelation of God in Jesus Christ. Musical instruments are of the imperfect realm of “this world”; they are lifeless, mechanical and ostentatious; they introduce into the character of the services a contrived, sensuous, theatrical element. The lyre of “living strings,” the pure human voice because of its flexibility, its warmth and the deep feeling it can express, is the sole worthy instrument in the more perfect worship of the “New Israel.” Jesus Christ has inaugurated a new age, the New Creation where the faithful now worship in “spirit and truth” (John 4:23-24).

The second main characteristic is that the music, being wholly vocal, is completely wed to the text. The text, in fact, is paramount, the words and their meaning suggesting the very contour and rhythm of the music. Since the Orthodox Church knows of no sacred music without words, it is from the text and for the text that the melody proceeds. The music is a holy chant, not measured by any regular or contrived meter. There are, therefore, in Orthodox musical history, no hymn-writers who were simply professional musicians; they were rather liturgical poets whose basic task was neither music nor poetry, but prayer. They were without exception ascetical, mystical fathers. And the content of their hymnology is never subjective, but rather objective declarations of Orthodox doctrine. Each verse, each tropar, each stichera, is a marvelous poetic statement of the Faith. The services, especially Vespers and Matins, are replete with these hymns “strung together with Glorias and broken verses from the psalms like pearls on a string.”2 Even in the rarer cases where the personal pronoun “I” appears (as more often in the Lenten Triodion), the hymns maintain their basic objectivity.

Just as there is no liturgical music without words, so too there are during worship no words without music. Besides the formal hymnology itself, everything else is chanted “psalmodically” — all psalms, all readings, all prayers, the Creed, everything. The phenomena in American churches of reading in an unpitched monotone or in a dramatic voice, or of congregational recitation of portions of the services are influences from Protestant worship, having no basis or precedent in the whole history of Orthodox corporate worship…

Two aspects of Orthodox sacred music which have all but fallen out of use in American parishes must also be mentioned. The first is: singing antiphonically. The practice of two choirs singing alternately is a tradition which became firmly established in the early Church. It has both practical and spiritual advantages. Practically, it enables the chanters to sing a long time without fatigue since they alternately sing and rest throughout the services. And spiritually this practice brightens and enlivens the services, keeping the congregation, as Constantine Cavarnos points out, “in a state of inner wakefulness.”3

Secondly, though much of the liturgical music in use in Orthodox Churches today is harmonized, the traditional Byzantine and early Slavic chants were monophonic with the addition at times of the drone or holding note. Polyphony appeared in Russia in the late 16th Century as a natural development of the Russian musical “soul” and paralleled the pattern of the multi-voiced folk singing. Later the harmonies became more sophisticated as professionally-trained composers harmonized chants and wrote original music of a high degree of esthetic beauty. The process, however, became more and more dominated by “western” influence and opened the door to music-for-music’s sake. Those who continue to argue for strict monophonic chant assert that harmony destroys the purity, holiness, and power of the simple chant. Those who prefer harmonized music insist that there is the possibility of simple part-singing which is not ostentatious, and which has, moreover, the effect of highlighting and beautifying the chant and its text. Each side argues that its method has greater transforming power in the hearts of worshippers. The controversy cannot be settled here. Perhaps the solution is in keeping both traditions, depending on the character of each individual chant. Harmonized or not, all sides agree that church music is most effective when it is uncomplicated and directly expressive of both the text and the liturgical moment.

Throughout the unbroken history of the Orthodox Church, whether or not these basic features of sacred music have been fulfilled totally in every local church, the ideals stand as a guide for all to follow. No individual, no local community has the right to abridge or ignore these canonical standards. Each generation must embrace anew the wisdom of the musical tradition, so that church singing may continue to fulfill (or return to) its proper and sacred role in public worship. Such a fulfillment, as this essay has attempted to show, is a fulfillment of the very nature of music. And it is the na­ture of music to draw mortals to the immortal Throne of God where all harmony and beauty have their beginning and end.

REFERENCES

1 Quoted in The Story of Christian Hymnody, E.E. Ryden, Augustana Press, Rock Island, Ill., 1959, p. 7.

2 R.M. French, The Eastern Orthodox Church, Hutchinson University Library, London, 1961, p. 124.

3 Constantine Cavarnos, Byzantine Sacred Music, Institute for Byzantine & Modern Greek Studies, Boston, 1956, p. 25.

Commemorating Ss. Peter and Paul

On June 29 each year, the Church remembers the Chief Apostles Peter and Paul. Contained herein are select, edited thoughts of St. Augustine concerning these two venerable disciples of Christ. Augustine was a fourth and fifth century Church Father, particularly influential in the Western Christian Tradition. 

St. Peter and the Rock of Faith

Peter is widely known for his confession of faith, when he said, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” In return, he was deemed worthy to hear from our Lord, “Blessed art thou, Simon ... I tell you, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church” (Mt.16:16-18). Historically and theologically much has been made about these statements. From an Orthodox perspective, “Thou art the Christ…thou art Peter, and upon this rock…” means essentially that “upon this rule of faith confessed by you, Peter, and by followers in centuries to come, upon this belief in Me, I will build My Church.”

The Rock, the Foundation upon which everything rests, from which everything derives its existence, this Rock ultimately is our Lord Jesus. The Apostle Paul states, “Our fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea; and all were baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea; they all drank the same spiritual drink: for they drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them: and that Rock (he says) was Christ” (1 Cor.10: 1-4).

We indeed call the Church “Apostolic,” but the Apostles bore witness to their Master not to themselves, to their Lord Who was the Foundation of the Faith they so courageously preached. 

Keys to the Kingdom

Among the Twelve Apostles, Peter – for his fiery devotion – was chosen to occupy a primary place among the disciples. He was to be, as it were, a representative for the early Church community. Our Lord said to him: “I will give unto thee the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth, shall be bound in the heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth: shall be loosed in heaven” (Mt.16:19).

This was said to one man, but it was the One Universal Church, that received the “keys” and the right “to bind and loose.” To see that this is true (Augustine says), we can look at the Gospel of John where Jesus says to all of the Apostles, “Receive ye the Holy Spirit, whosoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them: and whosoever sins ye retain, they are retained” (John 20: 22-23).  And then also in the Gospel according to Matthew: “Whatsoever ye bind upon the earth, shall be bound in Heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven” (Mt.18:18).

It is therefore, the Church that binds and loosens, the Church that received the Keys to the Kingdom. It is within the Church that a person intimately approaches the Savior Who alone has power to free men from their sins, to loosen the chains of iniquity that bind a person, preventing him from living a Godly life.       

Three-fold Denial and a Second Chance

St. Peter is also known for having denied Jesus three times prior to the Crucifixion.  After the Resurrection however, our Lord offered him healing, a second chance by way of three identical questions: “Peter, lovest thou Me; lovest thou Me; lovest thou Me?” If you do (He said), then “feed My Sheep.”

Such a meaningful engagement. Peter, to whom Christ said, “bind and loose,” was himself bound by fear, resulting in a threefold denial of Jesus. To empower the Apostle in his upcoming ministry, the Lord loosens him from pain and guilt. He provided three opportunities for Peter to confess openly his love, just as he, thrice, had publicly turned his back on Christ. 

Consistent with His mission, our Lord identified completely with His flock saying to Peter, “Feed My sheep,” not “Feed your sheep.” “The good shepherd (Christ said) gives his life for the sheep” (John 10:11), those entrusted to him by the Chief Shepherd Himself (1 Pet 5:4). The sheep belong to Christ not to any one man or group of men. The Apostle Peter, true to his calling, gave his life for the flock of Christ. He sealed his Apostleship by a martyr’s death, and is now glorified throughout all the world.

St. Paul and Personal Redemption

Paul, an enemy of the Church, known initially as Saul, was later called to be an Apostle. As we know from Scripture – Acts, chapter 9 – Paul received authority from the high priests to bring Christians up for trial and execution.  He was on his way to fulfill his commission – on the Road to Damascus – when the Lord called to him from Heaven saying, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute Me?”  In other words, why are you persecuting the Church, the Body, My very presence on earth?  

When Saul cried out in fear, “Who are You, Lord?” He answered, “I am Jesus Whom you are persecuting.” At this point, Saul undergoes a miraculous conversion, and receives specific instructions. He is to go to the city, and there he meets Ananias who baptizes Paul and is told that Paul will be “God’s chosen vessel, to bear Christ’s Name before the Gentiles, before kings, and the children of Israel” (Acts 9: 11,15,18). Ananias is further informed that Paul will be shown what great things he must suffer for the sake of Christ.

Ministry and Sufferings

The Lord in fact, revealed Paul’s Apostolic Ministry as characterized by pain as well as joy. Paul himself testified of those things which he endured for the sake of Jesus.

In Second Corinthians he states, “Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one.  Three times I was beaten with rods; once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked…I was adrift at sea; (I went) on frequent journeys, (was) in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, in the wilderness, at sea, danger from false brethren; (I endured) toil and hardship, many a sleepless night, I went hungry and was in thirst, I often went without food, endured cold and exposure.  And, apart from other things (he says), there is the daily pressure upon me of my anxiety for all the Churches.”

As with St. Peter, Paul was martyred. Peter was crucified, Paul was beheaded. It is most appropriate that on a single day each year, June 29, the memory of both Apostles is celebrated. They suffered separately in life and in death. By faith however, and through the spirit of their sufferings they were the closest of brothers. In fact, we depict them on Icons as brothers, holding up the Church of Christ by their prayers. Together, their devotion to Christ was so great that we esteem them as leaders of the Apostolic Company.  Peter and Paul are among the most prominent within that “cloud of witnesses” that we read about in Hebrews, that army of saints that surrounds us with their prayers, by their presence in our midst.

May we strive to follow in some small way the examples of Peter and Paul, remaining true to Christ Who strengthened them along their path of virtue, Who said to His disciples that, “Without Me you can do nothing.”