Parish Highlights

Parish Highlights

     On Sunday, January 13, our Parish held its Annual Meeting after the Divine Liturgy.  Several reports were passed out and discussed.  The following are some of the highlights.  Much more detailed information is available upon request for those who were unable to attend the meeting.

Parish Events 2012:                                                       

     During the past year,  St. Barbara's continued its normal monthly schedule of liturgical services and education classes.  In addition, however, several notable Outreach and Educational Events were conducted.  In January St. Barbara's hosted the Friday evening portion of a Regional Orthodox Conference dedicated to Mission & Evangelism.  It's theme:  "How Do We Communicate the Good News of Christ to Those Around Us?"  Speakers included:  Fr. Peter Gillquist (of blessed memory), Fr. Joseph Honeycutt, and Fr. Evan Armatas.

In March our Parish coordinated its Annual Spring Pysanky Festival and, after Pascha, conducted Pysanky Classes during two consecutive weeks.  These classes have become a popular means of fellowship, introducing many newcomers to an ancient religious folk art.

In both May and October representatives from the OCMC (Orthodox Christian Mission Center) spoke on "Becoming Disciples as we Make Disciples."  We were pleased to host Fr. David Rucker and Mr. Kenneth Kidd.  Also in May, Fr. Basil assumed temporary responsibilities as Dean of the South Central Deanery for the Diocese of the South.  The new position makes it necessary for him to be away from the parish on occasion, with substitute clergy filling in at St. Barbara's.  Dean responsibilities will continue for Fr. Basil at least until a bishop is elected for the Diocese.

In June, Hieromonk Gerasim (Eliel) visited our community.  Fr. Gerasim is a potential candidate for the Episcopacy for the Diocese of the South.  He spoke enthusiastically about his approach to Church and Diocesan life, and answered questions from parishioners. In addition, October and November provided opportunity for a six week, "Beginning to Pray," series, geared toward adults and teens.   The series used as a guide, Anthony Bloom's classic work on prayer.

In August members of St. Barbara's participated in the Annual TCU Church Fair in an attempt to make students aware of the presence of local Orthodox Churches.

Furthermore, during the year 2012 we Baptized and/or Chrismated 12 children and/or adults, averaging 90 people in attendance for each Sunday Liturgy.  And finally, during the January 13 meeting, a computerized model of one possible finished site plan was on display.  It included our current structure, but offered for additional consideration a gazebo and traditional Church building, both of which are contained on the original site plan.

Events in 2013, First Eight Months:

     For the upcoming year (2013) we have the following special events already on our calendar.  Starting January 19, in conjunction with our Saturday Church School, Jared Foster will lead a weekly adult/teen class on, "The Eucharist," using Fr. Alexander Schmemann's important work bearing the same title. Adult classes on The Eucharist meet from 5 to 6 pm every Saturday.

On Friday evening, February 22, from 6 to 9 pm, in response to a request by members of local Orthodox Churches, St. Barbara's will host an evening portion of the Festival of Orthodoxy.  Several guest speakers will be in attendance addressing the topic:  "Orthodox Christian Perspectives:  Speaking to our Children and Grandchildren about God."

On March 15 & 16 the parish will hold its Annual Pysanky Festival, always a highly anticipated event.  This will be followed by Pysanky Classes soon after Western Easter.

April 6 - 9 St. Barbara's will host Fr. Sergius Halvorsen from St. Vladimir's Orthodox Seminary for the Parish's 1st Annual Archbishop Dmitri Memorial Lecture.  A half day Deanery Clergy Meeting will also be held on Monday,  April 8, with both Fr. Sergius and the DOS Chancellor, Fr. Marcus Burch. Basing his lecture on Archbishop Dmitri's continual inspiration, Fr. Sergius will speak on,  "The Vulnerability of the Incarnation:  God made Man."

In addition, during the summer months the Diocese will convene its Annual Assembly, with the important task of electing a new Diocesan Hierarch, and St. Barbara's will host a Summer Vacation Church School, as well as participate once again in TCU's Annual Church Fair.

Parish Finances:

     At the January 13 meeting we looked at a 7 Year Income Comparison Sheet for the parish.  It was noted that in terms of regular monthly pledges and cash donations, St. Barbara's saw a 60% increase from 2006 to 2012.  We also emphasized the need to boost our monthly contribution totals so that additional funds can be used to pay off bank and parish friendly loans.  As it stands now, festival money and "unearmarked" building fund contributions are being used to pay regular expenses.

To bring us closer to our financial goals 2013 Pledge Cards were distributed.  These bright pink cards are available in the parish hall.   A chart is also on display in the hall to keep us apprised of progress in this area.   We would like each family and/or individual contributor to consider prayerfully a donation for the upcoming year, allowing for an increase in pledge amounts if possible.  As we pay off our current loans the progress will bring us closer to our eventual goal of a traditional Orthodox Church building and more fellowship space.

Principles of Growth:

     Finally, we discussed three Christian principles that lead to Church growth, spiritually, numerically and financially.  These are:  Prayer (both corporate and personal);  Charity (love and concern for others); and Stewardship (responsibility for that which God has given unto us).  If each of us will make it a priority to focus on these three areas during the upcoming year we will see growth, both personally and as a community.  In particular, at the meeting we asked people to make sure they are praying at home, to increase their participation in monthly Church services, to strive to be on time for the Divine Liturgy and Vespers, to welcome visitors who come to our parish, and to follow through faithfully with monthly pledges to St. Barbara's.
I know a man who emphasizes to those who come to him for advice:  "Do the right thing."  Taking our cue from him if we indeed, "do the right things," progress will be seen.

Recommitment for 2013: 

     Our common concern is that we care for those whom God has placed in our midst,  and that we tend to those basic responsibilities (above disciplines) to which we are called.  If we do these things, personal and parish growth in many areas will occur.

In 2013, with the Pre-Lenten season just a month and a half away, let us recommit ourselves personally to these ideas.

Zaccheus Sunday

Zacchaeus Sunday (Feb. 17)

+ Metropolitan Anthony Bloom

(This year Orthodox Great Lent starts Sunday night, March 17 with Forgiveness Vespers.  On Sunday, February 17, Orthodox Christians will commemorate the first of five Pre-Lenten Sundays.  We will hear in Church the lesson concerning Zacchaeus, the chief of the tax collectors,  from the Gospel according to St. Luke, chapter 19, verses 1-10.  The following is a sermon given on Zacchaeus Sunday by Metropolitan Anthony Bloom, on January 20, 1991).

In these weeks of preparation for Lent, we were faced last Sunday with the story of Bartimaeus to attract our attention on our own blindness; our spiritual blindness of which we are not aware, while physical blindness is so clearly perceived;  but also on the fact that if we want to recover our sight, our spiritual vision, our understanding of self, of God, of our neighbor, of life, there is only one Person to whom we can turn - it is God, our Lord Jesus Christ. Bartimaeus had tried all means to recover his sight, but it is only when he turned to Christ that he did recover it.  (The story of the blind man is read on January 20 of this year).

Whether we have taken advantage of the past week to reflect deeply on our own blindness, and in the darkness to begin to see some light, I do not know; each of us will have to answer for his eagerness or his laziness.

But today we are confronted with a new parable, or rather, a new story of the life of Christ: the story of Zacchaeus.  This story speaks to us again directly and the question which is been asked from us is this:  What matters to me more? The good opinion of people around me, that people should not jeer at you, laugh at you because you are seeking to see God, to meet Him, or the necessity, the inner call to discover everything provided you can see Christ face to face? Is vanity stronger in us or the hunger for God?  Saint John of the Ladder says clearly that vanity is contempt of God and cowardice before men.  What is our attitude: are we prepared to discard everything, provided we can meet God - or not? And in our circumstances it is not so much people who will prevent us, people will not jeer at us, they will not laugh at us: they will be totally indifferent;  but this does not mean that we like beggars do not turn to them, hoping for their approval, and in order to receive this approval, turn away from our search, from the only thing that can heal us and give us new life.

Also, we will find within ourselves conflicting voices, saying, "Don't! Don't make yourself ridiculous! Don't single yourself out by a search which is not necessary; you have got everything... Zacchaeus was rich, Zacchaeus was known as an honorable citizen - so are we! We possess so much, we are respected - are we going to start on a road that will make us into what Paul calls 'the scum of the earth’, debase us?"  This is the question which today's story of Zacchaeus says to us:  is vanity, that is the search of things which are vain, empty, and the fear of other people's opinion that will prevail, or (will it be) the hunger each of us has, at times, acute for a meeting with the living God?  Amen.

Theophany (Jan. 6)

Theophany (Jan. 6)

in the Orthodox Church

Metropolitan Kallistos Ware

In the Eastern Tradition this feast celebrates our Lord's baptism in the Jordan, not the adoration of the Magi...Theophany is marked...by a distinctive ceremony, not held at Christmas:  the Great Blessing of Waters...The culminating moment in this ceremony of blessing occurs when the officiating priest plunges or throws the Cross three times into the water, thus recalling the triple immersion of Christ in the Jordan, as well as the triple immersion which every Orthodox Christian undergoes at his own baptismal initiation.  Lest the phrase "Great Blessing of the Waters" be misunderstood, it should immediately be emphasized that the blessing is effected, not by the officiating priest and the people who are praying with him, but by Christ Himself, who is the true celebrant in this as in all the mysteries of the Church.  It is Christ who has blessed the waters once for all at His baptism in the Jordan:  the liturgical ceremony of blessing is simply an extension of Christ's original act.  This is a point of primary importance.

The basic meaning of the feast as a whole is summed up in its title Epiphany, "manifestation," or more specifically Theophany, "manifestation of God."  Christ's baptism in the Jordan is a "manifestation of God" to the world, in the first place because it forms the beginning of our Lord's public ministry;  but secondly, and in a deeper sense, because at this baptism there was granted to the world a revelation of the Holy Trinity.  All three Persons were made "manifest" together:  the Father testified from on high to the divine Sonship of Jesus;  the Son received His Father's testimony;  and the Spirit was seen in the form of a dove, descending from the Father and resting upon the Son.  This threefold disclosure is the subject of the Troparion (the main theme song) of the feast:

"When Thou, O Lord, was baptized in the Jordan, the worship of the Trinity was made manifest.  For the voice of the Father bore witness unto Thee, calling Thee His beloved Son, and the Spirit in the form of a dove confirmed the truthfulness of His word.  O Christ our God, who hast revealed Thyself, and enlightened the world, glory to Thee."

This theme of "manifestation" or "revelation" is expressed in particular under the symbolism of light:  in the words of the Troparion just quoted, Christ has "appeared and enlightened the world."  Thus, besides the title Theophany, January 6 is known also as the Feast of Lights.  The Church celebrates on this day the illumination of the world by the light of Christ...

Manifestation, illumination -- with these two ideas there goes a third:  renewal, regeneration, re-creation.  Christ's baptism in the Jordan renews our nature, for it is the prelude to our baptism in the font;  and it renews and regenerates, not our human nature only, but the whole material creation.

To understand this idea of renewal, it is helpful to begin by asking a question which is, in fact, posed repeatedly in the texts for the feast.  Why was Christ baptized?  We are baptized because we are sinful:  we go down dirty into the water, and we emerge cleansed.  But what need had Christ, who is sinless, to undergo baptism in the Jordan?  To this the liturgical texts answer:

"Though as God He needs no cleansing, yet for the sake of fallen man He is cleansed in the Jordan" (Matins of the feast);  "As man He is cleansed that I may be made clean" (Compline for the Feast).

"For the sake of sinful man;" in reality it is not He who is cleansed in the Jordan but we ourselves.  In taking manhood upon Him at His Incarnation, our Lord assumed a representative role:  He became the New Adam, summing up the whole human race in Himself, just as the first Adam summed up and contained all mankind in himself at the Fall.  On the Cross, although sinless, Jesus Christ suffered and died for the sins of all humanity;  and in the same way at His baptism, although sinless, He was cleansed for all man's sins.  When He went down into the Jordan, as the New Adam He carried us sinful men down with Him:  and there in the waters He cleansed us, bearing each of us up once more out of the river as a new creature, regenerate and reconciled.

In Christ's baptism at the hands of John, our own baptismal regeneration is already accomplished by anticipation.  The many celebrations of the Eucharist are all a participation in the single and unique Last Supper;  and in a similar way all our individual baptisms are a sharing in the baptism of Christ -- they are the means whereby the "grace of Jordan" is extended, so that it may be appropriated by each one of us personally.  As an indication of the close connection between Christ's baptism and our baptism, it may be noted that the prayer at the Great Blessing of the Waters on Theophany is almost identical with the prayer of blessing said over the font at the sacrament of baptism.

But Christ's descent into the river has also a further significance.  When Christ went down into the waters, not only did He carry us down with Him and make us clean, but He also made clean the nature of the waters themselves.  As the Troparion of the Forefeast puts it:  "Christ has appeared in the Jordan to sanctify the waters." The feast of Theophany has thus a cosmic aspect.  The fall of the angelic orders, and after it the fall of man, involved the whole universe.  All God's creation was thereby warped and disfigured:  to use the symbolism of the liturgical texts, the waters were made a "lair of dragons."  Christ came on earth to redeem not only man, but -- through man -- the entire material creation.  When He entered the water, besides effecting by anticipation our rebirth in the (baptismal) font, he likewise effected the cleansing of the waters, their transfiguration into an organ of healing and grace.

If water acts as a means of grace pre-eminently in the sacrament of baptism, it is also used as a means of sanctification on many other occasions as well.  That is why Orthodox are encouraged to drink from the water that has been blessed at Epiphany and to sprinkle themselves with it;  they take it also to their homes, and keep it there to use from time to time.  In all this...they are convinced that in virtue of Christ's Incarnation, of his Baptism and Transfiguration, all material things can be made holy and "spirit-bearing."  "At thine appearing in the body, the earth was sanctified, the waters blessed, the heaven enlightened"  (Compline at Theophany).  This, then, is part of the meaning of Theophany:  in the eyes of one who is a Christian, nothing should ever appear trivial or (superficial), for the redemptive and transforming grace of the Savior extends to all things..."  (Taken from the Festal Menaion Introduction:  the Background and Meaning of Feasts).

The Light of Wisdom

The Light of Wisdom

+  Fr. Alexander Schmemann

(One of many talks given by Fr. Alexander Schmemann over the course of almost thirty years over Radio Liberty and directed toward those living under a repressive regime in the Soviet Union.   According to the translator, Fr. John Jillions, "In these talks Fr. Schmemann was combating the anti-spiritual forces of atheist propaganda.  The talks lose none of their force when put in the context of another front of the same war, the front of modern secularism.")

"Thy Nativity, O Christ our God, has shone to the world the light of wisdom..."  The main hymn of Christmas begins by affirming that in Christ's birth, the world is given not only the image of a perfect human being, but also "the light of wisdom," the most transcendent and all-embracing revelation of meaning.  The light of wisdom!  Here precisely is the ancient battleground against Christianity and Christ.  Arrayed in opposition are all who, in the name of wisdom, feel compelled to destroy everything in any way related to the Child from Bethlehem.  Their argument with Christianity and Christ has continued for almost two thousand years.

The Apostle Paul came to the Areopagus in Athens, where all the bright lights of science and philosophy held court, and there, at antiquity's heart, he preached the crucified and resurrected Christ.  These sages mocked him;  and soon, it was as if all the power of the great Roman Empire joined them in mockery and offered support.  For two hundred years Rome fought, persecuted, and killed Christians, labeling them expendable outlaws and pariahs.  Christians were slandered, their teachings derided, their rituals ridiculed.  But in the midst of this darkness and malice the same Apostle Paul writes to the Christians with such simplicity and tranquility:  "We are treated as impostors and yet are true; as unknown and yet well known;  as dying and behold we live;  as punished, and yet not killed;  as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing;  as poor, yet making many rich;  as having nothing, and yet possessing everything" (2 Corinthians 6: 8-10).

The years went by. Little by little the philosophers and scholars began to reflect on the teaching that once seemed to them so incomprehensible, irrational and peculiar.  Consider for example a second century philosopher named Justin, whose works have come down to us.  His whole life had been spent in pursuit of truth;  he had studied every area of knowledge, and finally he came to Christianity.  What led him to this persecuted faith and to a martyr's death?  His answer:  "the light of wisdom."  He discovered the transcendent and all-encompassing wisdom of Christian revelation.  He discovered that Christianity alone was capable of answering all questions and satisfying completely the mind's seeking and the heart's thirst.

A few more decades, and we find another representative of ancient Olympus:  Clement of Alexandria.  With him as well, Christian faith is revealed as the height of human reason, the goal and fulfillment of all searching and hope.  Christianity, he said, is meaning and wisdom itself, or "Logos."  The gospels claim that Christ is the Logos, the Word who gives meaning and makes sense of everything else.

How many there were like Justin and Clement.  The Empire itself finally bowed its proud head before the Crucified Teacher whom she so long disdained.  Thus began the Christian era in human history and culture.  Is it really possible to forget the roots which gave rise to virtually everything through which we live and breathe in western society?  Christianity has entered the flesh and blood of our life, and without it we can understand neither art, nor philosophy, nor science.

Today, however, the pride of the human mind rebels once again against the treasure-house of wisdom, goodness and beauty.  What holds this rebellion together?  Raw power; for in the final analysis, the enemies of Christianity have no other arguments whatsoever except slander and propaganda.  In answer, and with no less force, the churches ring out with a song of victory:  "Thy Nativity, O Christ our God, has shone to the world the light of wisdom..."  With conviction equal to that of our opponents, and just as firmly, we proclaim that honest searching, thirst, and love for the truth will sooner or later lead to Christ.  "For in him was life, and the life was the light of men...The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it" (John 1: 4-5).  It is precisely in this affirmation, in this confession, that we find the meaning of Christmas.  The light of wisdom which entered the world and began to shine within it those two thousand years ago has neither left us, nor been extinguished.  We have progressed so much in our study of the world in these twenty centuries, that the best minds of our time are beginning to sense God's glory and the light of His wisdom as they explore the limits of the universe, its order and its beauty.  The star which led the wise men to the cave is no longer simply a touching story, as once again we hear the eternal truth of the psalm: "The heavens are telling the glory of God and the firmament proclaims his handiwork!" (Psalm 19:1).

The whole world strives for unity, peace, love.  But are these to be found in economics?  In the arms race?  In competition?  It is becoming increasingly obvious that there is an ever-deepening desire for something that will truly go to the very heart of humanity, as the all-illuminating light of life.  Yet the "very heart" is no other than Christ Himself.  And there is no other path to this heart except the path He gave in the commandment of love:  "Love one another, even as I have loved you..."  (John 13:34).  And there is no other wisdom and no other goal except the Kingdom of God He proclaimed.  The light of Christmas is precisely this cosmic light and love.  With spiritual hearing we can still hear the very same triumphant praise of two thousand years ago:  "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will among men" (Luke 2:14).  With spiritual eyesight we can see the same light of wisdom, and with spiritual voices we can respond to this joyful proclamation with the same song of thanksgiving:  "Christ is born; glorify him!  Christ comes from heaven; go to meet him?  Christ is on earth; be uplifted!"   (Nativity Canon at the Matins Service).

Christmas in Connecticut

,

Christmas in Connecticut

Fr. Lawrence Farley

Christmas is a hard and heartrending season for any who have recently experienced loss and bereavement, but perhaps no Christmas will be harder than for some families in Newtown, Connecticut this year.  I refer of course to the horrifying events there of December 14, when a gunman entered Sandy Hook Elementary School around 9.30 in the morning and began shooting, leaving 26 victims dead, 20 of whom were children between the ages of five and ten.  Look again at the date of this disaster:  it happened just ten short days before Christmas Eve.  No doubt the presents for most the children there had already been bought by their parents, brightly wrapped, and placed on the Christmas tree, awaiting the eager hands of the children for whom they were intended to rip off the wrapping and open them.  For about 20 families in Newtown, that anticipated happy moment will now never come.  Christmas will not be merry in Connecticut this year.  One thinks not so much of the story of the birth of Christ as of a darker part of the Christmas narrative:  “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children.  She refused to be comforted, because they were no more” (Mt. 2:18).  This year the Herodian slaughter of the Bethlehem innocents was seen in Newtown.

The depth of the tragedy was reflected, I thought, in the pauses of the President, when he spoke to the nation shortly after the events in his role as what one journalist called the country’s “consoler in chief”.  He spoke for just under four minutes, and yet had to pause twice for some time to keep control of his emotions.  Many times in that short address he wiped his eyes.  As he said at the beginning of the speech, when he first heard the news that morning, he reacted “not as a President, but as a parent”.  The horror afflicting Newtown reached out across the miles and seized us all—especially us parents.  Obviously no rhetoric can to do justice to the immensity of the pain felt, and no words can assuage the grief.  But as Christians, what are we to think?

First of all, we think of our inter-connectedness.  The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews bids his readers “remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them; and those who are ill-treated, since you also are in the body” (Heb. 13:3).  Everyone of us who remains “in the body”, who shares bodily existence in this world, is connected to everyone else, and their sorrows are somehow our sorrows as well.  We are not so many separate islands, living in splendid isolation from each other, impervious to their pain.  The pain of Newtown is our pain as well, and in some sense, the slain are our children too.  At the very least, we need to keep everyone there in our prayers.

This human inter-connectedness finds is redemptive fulfillment in the Church as the body of Christ.  Of all the many metaphors used to describe the Church—brotherhood, vine, city—the image of a body holds pride of place in the New Testament.  And that means that we share a deep connection to our fellow Christians—deeper than the bonds of brotherhood, deeper than the link between two branches on the same vine, deeper than the unity of citizens in the same city.  In a word, we share the same life.  Just as the various limbs of a single body share the same life and are therefore hurt by the same pain, so Christians share life and pain with each other.  When a weight falls on one’s foot, it is not the foot alone which suffers—the pain that landed there is diffused throughout the entire body, and all the limbs respond by comforting the afflicted member.  And when one of our fellow Christians suffers, all of us are called to co-suffering.  “If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (1 Cor. 12:26).  In the world and in the Church, we are all linked.  This Christmas, we all live in Newtown, Connecticut.

Secondly, we remember that sin—all sin—is senseless.  God made us as rational beings, with the ability to think and reason, striving to understand and make sense out of the varied world around us.  We therefore rebel when we find something that is altogether senseless and which outrages reason.  The question “Why?” pushes itself to the front, and we ask why this happened, how God could have allowed this.  We instinctively seek to make sense of the senseless.  That is, I think, at least partly behind the immediate response of looking for causes of the tragedy, and of finding blame, and ways to fix it.  Is mental illness the cause?  Is the problem rooted in the availability of guns in the U.S.?  Do we need more security at schools?  These are all valid questions, and the discussions around them should take place.  But these discussions cannot make sense out of the senseless.  All sin is essentially senseless, and perverse, and defies reason.  We see this in the primordial defiance of Satan.  Consistent Christian tradition portrays him as originally an angel who fell from grace, a being once perfect like all the other angels, living in eternal bliss, but one who chose to rebel against God’s rule and against love, choosing misery over bliss, and haughty, hopeless defiance over blessed submission.  Why?  Such a choice, once made before the creation of the world, was irrevocable, and made no sense.  Yet all sin partakes something of this senseless defiance, and therefore eludes any attempt to understand it.  We can never hope to truly understand such sin as came into focus Friday morning December 14.  The way forward is not through reason, but through God’s consolation.

Healing here comes not through trying to use this tragedy to make better laws (though that is in itself a good thing), not by making this a tragedy to end all tragedies, as the First World War was the war to end all wars.  Healing comes through the embrace of Christ, letting our tears run down our cheeks to rest on His shoulders.  God does not offer us adequate explanation in this age.  He offers us Himself.  In running into His arms, we can find some peace.

But (as a final point), some kinds of peace and healing can only be found in the age to come.  Some hurts are too deep, some shocks too traumatic, to be dealt with while we live in the body.  Of course we will go on with our lives—there are other children to care for, and jobs to do, and joys to experience, and people to love.  Life does not end, even after something as terrible at December 14 in Newtown, Connecticut.  But, I suspect, some tears remain, and refuse to be dried.  Some pain will persist, until the dying breath.  Behind the masks that society and convention rightly bids us wear, the heart’s open wound still bleeds, and nothing in this age can help it.  But healing does come eventually for those who seek their healing in God.

In the Apocalypse (addressed as it originally was to people who were experiencing persecution, and death, and bereavement), a final healing is promised.  St. John saw in the Kingdom a great multitude which no man could number, standing before the throne of God and the Lamb.  He was told, “He who sits on the throne will shelter them with His Presence, for the Lamb will be their shepherd and He will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Rev. 7:15f)—yes, even the tears shed at Christmas time in Newtown, Connecticut.  We, all of us, will one day have to pass through the dark door of death, and step into the age to come.  Some of us will step through that door with tear-stained faces, and with wounded and weary hearts.  But there we will find healing at last, and hearts will be lightened at last, and all tears forever wiped away.

In thinking of that day, I am reminded of a description of it by C.S. Lewis, found in the closing lines of his Narnian Chronicles.  The great lion, Aslan, greeted the children as they stepped through the door of death.  “He said to them, ‘All of you are—as you used to call it in the Shadowlands—dead.  The term is over:  the holidays have begun.  The dream is ended:  this is the morning.’  And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion, but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them.  And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after.  But for them it was only the beginning of the real story.  All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page:  now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read:  which goes on forever:  in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

This is the real hope for Rachel, weeping for her children—a new morning, and a reunion, and a new story, and a Kingdom.  That story will go on forever.  And every chapter in it will indeed be better than the one before.

(As posted on oca.org)  Fr. Lawrence Farley, formerly an Anglican priest and graduate of Wycliffe College in Toronto, Canada in 1979, converted to Orthodoxy in 1985 and then studied at St. Tikhon’s Seminary in South Canaan, Pennsylvania.  After ordination he traveled to Surrey, B.C. to begin a new mission under the OCA, St. Herman of Alaska Church

Fr. Lawrence is the author of many books including the Bible Study Companion Series,  Let Us Attend: A Journey through the Orthodox Divine Liturgy, and A Daily Calendar of Saints. He has also written a series of Akathists published by Alexander Press, and his articles have appeared in numerous publications.

Fr. Lawrence has a podcast each weekday on Ancient Faith Radio and writes monthly for Sounding, the blog of Orthodox Christian Network.  Father lives in Surrey with his wife Donna; he and Matushka Donna have two grown daughters and two grandchildren. He regularly updates his blog, "Straight from the Heart."

Sermon on the Genealogy of Christ

Sermon on The Genealogy of Christ

(The Sunday Prior to Christmas)

+ Metropolitan Anthony (Bloom)

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Every year before Christmas we read the genealogy of Christ from St. Matthew's Gospel (Chapter 1), and for years I asked myself, why?  Why have we got to read all these names that mean so little to us, if anything at all?  And then I became more perceptive of what they convey to us.

For one thing, they are the people to whose family the Lord Jesus Christ belongs through His humanity.  They all are relatives of His, and this should be enough for us to find their names deeply moving:  Christ is of their blood, Christ is of their family.  Each of them -- thinking of the Mother of God -- can say, 'She is a child of our family',  and of Christ,  'He also is a child of our family, although He is our God, our Savior, the very Divine Presence in our midst'. Furthermore, some names stand out: names of Saints, heroes of the spirit, as well as names of sinners.

The Saints among them could well teach us what it means to believe; not simply to have an intellectual faith, a world-outlook which coincides, as far as it is able, with God's vision, but a faith which means a complete trust in God, an unlimited faithfulness to Him, the readiness -- because of what we know of God -- to give our lives for what He stands for, for what He is. In this context think of Abraham whose faith was tested to the utmost. How difficult we find it to give to God something of ours: but Abraham was asked to bring as a blood-offering his own son -- and he did not doubt God (Genesis 22: 1-19). And Isaac? He surrendered without resistance, in perfect obedience to his father, and through him -- to God.

We can remember the struggle of Jacob with the Angel in the darkness (Genesis 32: 22-32), as we at times struggle for our faith, for our integrity, for our faithfulness, in the darkness of the night, or the darkness of doubt, in the darkness that seizes us at times on all sides.

But we can also learn something from those who in history, in the Bible, appear to us as sinners. They were frail, this frailty conquered them, they had no strength to resist the impulses of their bodies and of their souls, the complex passions of men. And yet,... they believed in God passionately.  One of them was David, and one of his Psalms expresses it so well: "From the deep I cry unto Thee ..." (Psalm 130:1). From the depths of despair, of shame, from the depths of his fall, from the depths of his alienation from God, from the darkest depths of his soul he still cried to God. He does not hide from Him, he does not go away from Him, it is to Him he comes with this desperate cry of a desperate man. And others, both men and women, have this same concreteness as, for instance, Rahab the harlot (Joshua 2 & 6), and so many more.

Do we, when we are at the darkest point of life, when we are wrapped in all the darkness that is within us -- do we, from within this darkness turn to God and say: 'It is to You, Oh Lord, I cry! Yes -- I am in darkness, but You are my God. You are the God who created the light, and the darkness, and You are within the darkness as You are within the blinding light; You are in death as You are in life; You are in hell, as You are on the Throne; and from wherever I am I can cry to You.'

And then, there is a last thing I would like you to think about. To us these people are names; of some of them we know a little from the Bible, about others we know nothing. But they all were concrete human beings, men and women like us, with all our frailty and all our hope, all the wavering of the will and all the hesitations, all the incipient love that is so often marred, and yet remains light and fire. They are concrete and real, and we can read their names with the feeling, that, 'Yes -- I don't know you, but you are one of those who are of the family of Christ, concrete, real, who through all the vicissitudes of life, inner and outer, belong to God.'  And we ourselves can try and learn, in the concreteness of our lives, whether we are frail or strong at a given moment, still to be God's own.

So let us reflect on this genealogy, let us next time we come to hear it receive it with a spark in our eyes, with a warm feeling in our hearts; but this will be possible only to the extent to which Christ becomes more and more real to us, and when it is in Him and through Him that we discover them all -- real, living, our own and God's own.  Amen.

Preparing for Christ's Nativity

Preparing for Christ's Nativity

(The Virgin Mary in Prophecy & Christian Tradition)

+ Archbishop Dmitri (Royster)

On November 15, the Church will enter the period of the Christian year known as the Nativity Fast (Advent).  For forty days our attention will be directed toward the Nativity of Christ, both in the proper parts of the services and in the scriptural readings.

As part of the lenten effort several days in December are dedicated to the memory of Old Testament prophets, persons with an extraordinary call to proclaim God's will and announce beforehand the Savior's coming into the world.  On December 1 we commemorate the prophet Nahum;  December 2, Habakkuk;  December 3, Zephaniah; December 16, Haggai;  and on December 17, Daniel and the Three Youths.  In addition, on the two Sundays preceding Christmas the entire assembly of Old Covenant prophets are among those many people commemorated who prepared the way for Christ's advent.

Of particular significance is the feast day which occurs in the midst of the Fast, on November 21:  The Presentation (or Entrance) of the Theotokos into the Temple.  According to Tradition as old as the Church itself, the parents of the Theotokos were Joachim and Anna.  Being elderly and having no children, they prayed that God would grant them a child, even in their old age.  God answered their prayer by giving to them a daughter.  Everything surrounding her birth and infancy was extraordinary.  First, her birth was announced by an angel.  Second, she was born of a very old and barren mother.  Third, when according to custom she was presented in the temple forty days after her birth, the priest Zacharias, father of the Forerunner John the Baptist, received her with unusual joy, taking her into the Holy of Holies, a place reserved only for the priest to enter once a year.  Finally, from an early age until her betrothal, the blessed handmaiden was raised in the temple.  Her being brought to the temple at the age of three, escorted by young girls carrying candles or lamps in their hands, constitutes the fundamental event commemorated on November 21.

Many Old Testament prophecies which pointed to God's New Covenant with man, had to do with the instrument that He would use to accomplish His purpose.  We will recall that the first prophecy about Mary occurred at the very moment of man's fall.  God said unto the serpent which had beguiled both Adam and Eve:

"Because thou hast done this...I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed;  it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel" (Genesis 3: 14-15).

Mary is the new Eve, the one who crushes with her perfection and sinlessness, the head of evil.  In addition the burning bush which "was not consumed" by fire (Exodus 3:1-6), the uncrossed gate of the temple (Ezekiel 44:1-3), and a host of other Old Testament types or images, tell of this extraordinary creature that was to be the earthly instrument by which God would enter into His own material creation.  Psalm 45, recited in part at the Proskomedia prior to the Divine Liturgy, is a prophecy directly related to the feast in question:

"The King's daughter is all glorious within:  her clothing is of wrought gold.  She shall be brought unto the King in raiment of needlework:  the virgins, her companions that follow her, shall be brought unto thee.  With gladness and rejoicing shall they be brought:  they shall enter into the King's palace" (Psalm 45: 13-15).

Only from such a person as Mary could God take flesh -- the perfect human nature of our Lord, Jesus Christ.  We call her sinless, even immaculate.  By these words we mean that she committed no personal sin.  We reject, however, the idea of an immaculate conception, or any approach to the Theotokos which would distinguish her radically from the entire race of mortals, making her something other than human.  We also call her ever-virgin, because in spite of attempts to prove otherwise, it has never been demonstrated that she had children other than Jesus, nor had she sexual relations with any man.

Mary has a place of high honor in Christian Tradition.  She is referred to as being "more honorable than the cherubim and more glorious without compare than the seraphim."  She is called Theotokos, or God-bearer. She is even known as the Mother of God, for the One to whom she gave birth is God, but unites perfectly within Himself His own divine nature and our human nature as well, identifying Himself completely with the whole race of mortals.  During the feast of the Presentation much is made of the Virgin as the abode of God, the one who enters the Holy of Holies to become herself the Tabernacle of the Righteous One.

The veneration of the Theotokos, the high honor given her in the Church, is a fulfillment of the prophetic words that she herself spoke:

"My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior;  for He hath regarded the low estate of His handmaiden;  for behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed"  (Luke 1: 46-48).

The angel Gabriel had addressed her in these words:  "Hail, thou who art full of grace, the Lord is with thee:  blessed art thou among women" (Luke 1:28).  The woman who called out from the crowd in the Gospel lesson read at all major feasts of the Theotokos, "Blessed is the womb that bare thee," was answered by our Lord, "Yea rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God and keep it" (Luke 11: 27-28).  Mary is considered to be the person, par excellence, who heard the word of God and kept it.

The consequences of denying the Theotokos her rightful place in the life of Christians are more serious than one may think, unless he considers all its implications.  The Church's theology insists upon the two perfect natures of Christ;  He is both fully God and fully Man.  The Virgin Mary was the perfect human being from whom Christ's human nature was taken.  Man's redemption was made possible through the union of God and man in Christ, and it is over the very fundamental question of the personality of Christ that the Church throughout its history has had to wage its bitterest battles.  In fact, the main work of the Third Ecumenical Council (Ephesus 431 AD) was to combat Nestorianism, a heresy which denied Mary the title, Theotokos.  At least partially, as a result of this fifth century controversy, the very specific Greek term for Christ's mother is used untranslated in Orthodox Church services to this day.  To this one title is ascribed great importance, because in a very specific way it bears witness to the salvation given to us in Christ.

De-emphasis of the sinlessness of Christ's mother, insistence upon her having other children by Joseph, and failure to remember her part in the history of the salvation of mankind, have contributed to a general misunderstanding of the Incarnation in all its fullness and power.  These are but preliminary steps towards a denial of the virgin birth, and with it the divinity of Christ, the Holy Trinity, and so on.

Thus, this feast of the Presentation (Entrance) of the Theotokos stands at the beginning of the season in which we commemorate the Incarnation, the intervention of God in time and history.  We rightly bestow honor, homage and veneration to the one that gave birth to God the Word, for the salvation of the world.

From the Church services celebrating Mary's Entrance:

"Heaven and earth rejoice, beholding the spiritual Heaven, the only Virgin without blemish, enter the house of God, there to be reared in reverence.  To her Zacharias in amazement cried:  'O Gate of the Lord!  Unto thee I open the gates of the temple:  rejoice and go round it in gladness.  For I know and believe that the deliverance of Israel shall now come to dwell openly in our midst, and that from thee shall be born God the Word, who grants the world great mercy.'"  (From the Aposticha for the feast).

"Today is the foreshadowing of the good pleasure of God and the herald of the salvation of men.  The Virgin is revealed in the temple of God, and beforehand she announces Christ to all.  Let us therefore cry to her with mighty voice:  Hail! Thou fulfillment of the Creator's dispensation."  (Troparion for the feast).  (Translations of liturgical hymns by Mother Mary and Bishop Kallistos Ware.)

St Tikhon of America

St. Tikhon of America

(Oct. 9)

A Vision of Orthodox Mission

Archpriest Leonid Kishkovsky

(Director of External Affairs and Inter-Church Relations for the Orthodox Church in America, and Editor of The Orthodox Church Magazine)

The focus of the following article is, "Our Father Among the Saints, Tikhon, Patriarch of Moscow, Enlightener of North America."  With the approach of the All American Council in November, Fr. Leonid's words provide a meaningful reflection as we consider the election of the OCA's next Metropolitan.  St. Tikhon's personal qualities as described by Fr. Kishkovsky -- "generosity, tolerance, flexibility, imagination, pastoral sensitivity" as well as understanding -- describe not only desirable characteristics for Metropolitans, Archbishops and Bishops, but for all Orthodox Christians.  Let us pray that the Spirit of wisdom as embodied by St. Tikhon, will guide, with all power, the forthcoming AAC.

Introduction:  St. Tikhon and the Russian Church "The life and image of Patriarch Tikhon in the history of the Orthodox Church is forever connected with his service as Patriarch of the Church of Russia from 1917 to 1925.  These dates encompass the Bolshevik revolution and the beginning of communist rule, the period of civil war and religious persecution, and the emergence of enduring patterns of anti-religious policy in the Soviet Union. From the time of his elevation to the patriarchal throne to the time of his death, Patriarch Tikhon defended the Church of Russia and her people by raising his voice against repression, state political abuse and manipulation of every variety.  He denounced state terror.  He challenged the hatred towards God and "class enemy" proclaimed as the ideal in the new state.  All the same, he appealed for obedience to legitimate decrees of the Soviet state -- that is, to decrees not compelling violations of piety or faith.  He rejected the political declarations of emigré churchmen on the subject of the restoration of the monarchy.  He was unbending before the threats and plots of the leaders of church schisms.

St. Tikhon's Episcopacy in North America:   Concern for All Our attention, however, is drawn to Patriarch Tikhon's episcopal service in North America from 1898 to 1907.  When Bishop Tikhon (Belavin) arrived in New York on December 12, 1898, to take up his responsibilities as ruling bishop of the vast diocese of the Aleutians and Alaska, encompassing all of North America, he was, at 33 years of age, one of the youngest and perhaps one of the most "ordinary" bishops of the Russian Church.  He was not known for intellectual or theological brilliance;  he did not have the reputation of an eloquent speaker;  he did not show signs of administrative genius.  Nevertheless, his episcopal service in North America incarnated a remarkable vision of Orthodox mission in the New World.

This vision is relevant to us today because it had to take into account factors and realities which still confront us.....: i.e. the encounter of the Orthodox Church, a small minority in America, with the larger American society;  the ethnic and linguistic pluralism within the Orthodox community; and finally the question of how to be a mission in this context.

The North American diocese administered by Bishop Tikhon was a multi-lingual and multi-ethnic diocese.  Its responsibilities included continuation of the missionary work in Alaska, nurture of immigrant communities in Canada and the United States, witness to the Orthodox faith in the midst of heterodox Christian bodies.  Bishop Tikhon ministered to Arabs and Greeks, Galicians and Carpatho-Russians, Russians and Serbs, Byelorussians and Ukrainians, Eskimos and Aleuts, Indians and Americans.  His flock worshipped in Greek and Arabic, Slavonic and English, and in the languages of the Alaskan native peoples.....(Tikhon's) pastoral and missionary attitude to language in the life of the Church continued the tradition of Bishop Innocent (Veniaminov) and the Alaska mission, which itself continued the tradition of Cyril and Methodius and their mission to the Slavs.

The bishop of such a diverse flock clearly required generosity and tolerance, flexibility and imagination.  Precisely these qualities characterized the episcopal service of Bishop Tikhon in North America and enabled him to see his diverse flock as one flock.

By 1903 Bishop Tikhon had arranged for the consecration of the auxiliary bishop for Alaska, and on March 12, 1904, Bishop Tikhon and his auxiliary, Bishop Innocent, consecrated Archimandrite Raphael Hawaweeny as Bishop of Brooklyn, auxiliary for Arabic parishes in North America.

In 1903 Bishop Tikhon inaugurated the process of study and preparation that led in 1905-1906 to the transformation of the Missionary school in Minneapolis, Minnesota, into a seminary for the diocese.  In 1905, Tikhon, by then elevated to Archbishop, gave his blessing for the initial steps towards the creation of a monastery at South Canaan, Pennsylvania.

All of these developments were signs that the North American mission was coming to be an increasingly self-sufficient local Church.  A document written by Archbishop Tikhon in December 1905 shows the maturity and clarity of his prophetic vision for the Orthodox Church in North America, and gives eloquent testimony to the fact that his decisions and actions in ordering the life of his diocese were helping to embody his vision of Orthodox mission in America.

In response to a questionaire sent to all diocesan bishops of the Russian Church as part of the official preparation for the long-awaited Council of the Church in Russia, Archbishop Tikhon outlined his ideas on the structure of the Orthodox mission in North America.  He proposed that the diocese become an exarchate of the Russian Church, but an exarchate with great autonomy.....He saw the need for autonomy and independence in matters affecting the internal life and structure of each national or ethnic diocese or vicariate, and also the necessity for a common mind, expressed through decisions of the bishops meeting in council under the presidency of the archbishop, in matters of common and general concern.  He went so far as to mention the word "autocephaly" in connection with the organization of the Orthodox Church in North America.

A Vision of Conciliarity: The development of diocesan institutions, the creation of an "episcopal college" for North America, the pastoral sensitivity to the needs of the multi-ethnic and multi-lingual flock could perhaps be seen as the normal actions of a good, ordinary bishop trained in the conservative setting of the late 19th century Russian Church.  What comes as something of a surprise is the commitment of Bishop Tikhon to the establishment of a conciliar spirit and style in his North American diocese.  From the beginning of his American ministry, Bishop Tikhon gathered together his diocesan clergy whenever possible for discussions of the problems of the mission's life.....On (one) occasion (particularly) Archbishop Tikhon said that he considered regular meetings of the diocesan clergy to be desirable for discussion and conciliar resolution of questions affecting the mission's life and activities.  He specified, futhermore, that one of the most important questions to be considered was the active involvement of lay people in the up-building of Church and parish life in America.....(A resulting statement issued in a local publication explained that) in America.....the Church must return to its "conciliar nature," must become again a living organism.  Clergy and laity have a common responsibility for the life of the Church.

The conciliar vision articulated by Archbishop Tikhon in America reflected the thinking on this subject within the Church of Russia.  At the end of the nineteenth century there were some in the Russian Church who did not accept the status quo as normative, and who believed that the welfare of the Church and the success of its mission required changes.  One of the fundamental changes envisioned was the liberation of the Church from its bureaucratic bonds and the creation of a conciliar and truly Orthodox order and style of Church administration.  The Council which elected Tikhon as Patriarch in 1917 was an embodiment of this movement to conciliarity, a movement which in the Russian Church was overwhelmed by the events of the Communist Revolution and the nearly total liquidation of the Church in the 1920's and 1930's.  Only now, in (recent years), has a living conciliar consciousness begun to emerge once again in the life of the Church of Russia.   Although this development is still tentative and fragmentary, we may dare to hope that the conciliar tradition of the Church of Russia will be strengthened in the years ahead.

For Orthodox in America, the inheritance of Tikhon, our own bishop and father in God, remains a living tradition of pastoral wisdom and missionary vision.  The conciliar vision which he embodied in his relationship with clergy and laity remains a challenge for Orthodox Americans every time our bishops meet in council with the clergy and laity.  There can be no doubt that Archbishop Tikhon, when he left his American diocese for the last time on March 26, 1907, saw the North American mission not as a permanent extension of the Church of Russia, but as the local Church in America.

An inspiring and touching summary of his vision is to be found in his farewell sermon, preached on Forgiveness Sunday, March 17, 1907.

".....Orthodox people must care for the dissemination of the Orthodox faith among the heterodox.  Christ the Savior said that men lighting a lamp do not put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house (Matthew 5:15).  The light of Orthodoxy also is not lit for a small circle of people.  No, the Orthodox faith is catholic;  it remembers the commandment of it Founder:  "Go into all the world and preach the gospel to the whole creation.  Make disciples of all nations"  (Mark 16:15, Matthew 28:19).  It is our obligation to share our spiritual treasures, our truth, our light and our joy with those who do not have these gifts.  And this duty lies not only on pastors and missionaries, but also on lay people, for the Church of Christ, in the wise comparison of St. Paul, is a body, and in the life of the body every member takes part.

"For each of us the dissemination of the Christian faith must be a favorite task, close to our hearts and precious to us;  in this task each member of the Church must take an active part -- some by personal missionary effort, some by monetary support and service to the "needs of the saints," and some by prayer to the Lord that He might "establish and increase His Church," that He might "teach the word of truth" to those who do not know Christ, that He might "reveal to them the gospel of righteousness, and unite them to His Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.""  (Prayer for the Catechumens at the Divine Liturgy).   (The preceding was taken from, "The Legacy of Saint Vladimir," SVS Press, Crestwood, New York, 1990, pp. 267-273.)

Prayer and Action

Prayer and Action

(Harmonizing Life with Prayer)

+ Archbishop Anthony Bloom

I would like to say a few words on the relation that exists, not in general terms but somewhat distinctly, between life and prayer, approaching this question from a hitherto unexplored angle. All too often the life we lead testifies against the prayer we offer, and it is only when we have managed to harmonize the terms of our prayer, with our way of life, that our prayer acquires the strength, the splendor and the efficacy which we expect it to yield.

All too often we address the Lord hoping that He will do what we ought to do in His name and in His service. All too often our prayers are elegant, well-prepared discourses, grown stale moreover with the passing of centuries, which we offer to the Lord from day to day, as if it sufficed to repeat to Him from year to year -- with a cold heart and a dull mind -- ardent words that were born in the desert and the wilderness, in the greatest of human sufferings, in the most intense situations that history has ever known.

We reiterate prayers bearing the names of the great spiritual leaders, and we believe that God listens to them, that he takes account of their content -- whereas the only thing that matters to the Lord is the heart of the person addressing Him, the will straining to do His will.

We say: “Lord, lead us not into temptation”; then, with a light step, eager and full of hope, we go straight to where temptation lies in wait for us. Or else we cry: “Lord, Lord, my heart is ready”.  But (ready) for what?  If the Lord were to ask us this question one evening when we have said these words before going to bed, would we not sometimes be obliged to answer “ready to finish the chapter I have begun in this detective novel”. At that moment it is the only thing for which our hearts are ready.  And there are so many occasions on which our prayer remains a dead letter, a letter that kills moreover, because each time we allow our prayer to be dead, instead of making us alive and yielding to us the intensity which it possesses intrinsically, we become increasingly less sensitive to its drive, its impact, and increasingly incapable of living the prayer we utter.

This raises a problem which must be resolved in the life of each individual; we have to transform the terms of our prayer into rules of life. If we have told the Lord that we are seeking  His help in order to resist temptation, we have to avoid every occasion of temptation with all the energy of our soul, with all the strength at our disposal. If we have told the Lord that we are heartbroken at the thought that someone is hungry, thirsty or lonely, we must, however, listen to the voice of the Lord replying: “Whom shall I send?,” and stand before him saying: “Here I am, Lord,” and become active without delay. We should never delay sufficiently to allow a superfluous thought to creep into our good intention, placing itself between God's injunction and the action we are about to perform, because the thought that then slips in like a serpent will immediately suggest to us: “Later,” or “Do I really have to? Can't God choose someone who is more free to do his will than I am?” And while we "beat about the bush," the energy which prayer and the divine response had communicated to us will fade away and die within us.

So here we are dealing with something essential, namely a link we have to establish between life and prayer through an act of will, an act which we ourselves perform, which will never be accomplished on its own and can nonetheless transform our lives most profoundly. Read the prayers that are set out for you in the morning and evening office. Select any one of these prayers and make it a rule of life; you will then see that this prayer will never become boring or stale, because with each passing day it will be sharpened, quickened by life itself. Once you have asked the Lord to protect you throughout the day against some compulsion, temptation or difficulty which you have made it your duty to overcome to the best of your ability and despite your human weakness, and your being is filled like a mainsail with the divine breath and power, you will have many things to tell God when you stand before Him in the evening. You will have to thank Him for the help you have received, you will have to repent for the use you have made of it; you will be able to rejoice that He has given you the strength to do His will with your own weak and frail hands, your poor human hands, and allowed you to be His seeing gaze, His heedful ear, His footstep, His love, His incarnate, living, creative compassion.

Now here is something that can only be achieved through individual effort, and unless this effort is made, life and prayer become dissociated. For a while life carries on as usual, and prayer continues its droning which becomes less and less distinct, less and less disquieting for our conscience; the steadfastness of prayer decreases. And since life makes demands on us whereas prayer comes from God, a timid, loving God who calls us and never imposes Himself on us by brute force, the result is that prayer fades away. Then we console ourselves by saying that we have now embodied our prayer in action; the work of our hands alone represents our worship.

Yet this is not the attitude we adopt towards our friends, our parents, and those we love. Indeed, on occasions, perhaps always, we do everything we ought to do for their sake; but does this imply that we forget them in our hearts, that our thoughts never turn to them? Of course not! Could it be that God alone enjoys that privilege of being served without ever receiving a glance from us, without our hearts ever becoming fervent and loving at the sound of His Name? Could it be that God alone is served with indifference? This question gives us something to think about and something to achieve.

The 1st Anniversary of Archbishop Dmitri's Repose

The 1st Anniversary
of Archbishop Dmitri's Repose
(Reflections and Memorial Service Schedule)
Fr. Basil Zebrun

     One year ago, on August 28 (Old Calendar Dormition), our beloved Archbishop Dmitri fell asleep in the Lord.  Since his retirement in March of 2009, and especially during the last twelve months, our Diocese has felt the need for a resident ruling hierarch to shepherd the Southern flock.  Archbishop Nikon -- who has been a blessing as our locum tenens -- stated at the 35th Assembly in Miami that with the repose of His Eminence, "a void came into our hearts that cannot be filled, and in some sense should not be filled, for no one can replace the 1st Apostle to the South."  He also reminded us that "the Diocese is still dealing with grief, manifesting itself in various ways within the Church:  anger, sorrow, and with faith in the Risen Christ as well."

     Many people can identify with Archbishop Nikon's words.  Although life continues in the Diocese and in our parishes, the presence of our founding father is sorely missed.  It is a testimony, however, to his vision and leadership  that in spite of the fact that he was not known for attention to administrative detail, essential principles and structures remain after his repose -- as well as the faith of those he nurtured in Orthodoxy -- that enable the Diocese to carry on its tasks of parish development and mission.

     Archbishop Nikon further stressed that while the Cathedral in Dallas continues to progress in constructing a final resting place for Archbishop Dmitri, the true monument to his life is not a building;  rather it is the lives of the people, essentially the way we conduct ourselves as followers of Jesus Christ: "you are the seal of my apostleship in the Lord" (1 Corinthians 9:2).  Finally, we were encouraged in Miami to make Archbishop Dmitri proud by carrying on with the work of evangelism.

     Assuredly this work will continue, and part of the effort will be the election of another ruling hierarch for the South.  This topic was addressed repeatedly at the Assembly, and it is possible -- though not a given -- that an election will take place as early as January or February, in conjunction with the Annual Diocesan Clergy Conference.

     I cannot help but think, however, that in some ways it is providential that the process of election has not progressed.  True, we have been without a ruling bishop for three and a half years, and a resident hierarch will provide possibilities and a stability to Diocesan life that are not currently feasible.  In addition, it can be asserted that we are not fully a Diocese without the presence of a bishop.

     But in light of Archbishop Nikon's assessment of our grief, it may be that we need to mourn the passing and celebrate the life of Archbishop Dmitri on the 1st Anniversary of his repose, before we participate in the task of electing a second father in Christ. Perhaps we need this time -- alone as it were -- to assess the meaning of this occasion,  to consider prayerfully the gift of the Archbishop's fatherly leadership, and in our "anger and sorrow," put to rest any ambiguities in our hearts.

     The grieving process is a complex experience.  The loss of a loved one can be dealt with, denied or covered up easily by delving more deeply into "life's earthly cares."  A good friend recently stressed to me that in the field of grief counseling it is generally advised that after a great loss people refrain from making major life decisions for at least a year.  This helps to insure that persons make informed decisions, not impetuous ones based on emotion.  In the case of someone seeking remarriage -- and a bishop's relationship to a Diocese is sometimes described as a marriage -- time helps prevent a grieving party from focusing only on potential partners who mirror the image of the former spouse.

     As they relate to our Diocese the above thoughts are pertinent.  They may also appear counterproductive, not in keeping with the spirit of prescribed Statutes and By-Laws, and they certainly will not address the frustrations of those who believe that three and a half years is more than enough time to put forth an episcopal candidate for the South.  It is a fact, however, that while he retired in March of 2009, Archbishop Dmitri's presence and influence was never far from those he formerly served, up to the summer of 2011. It is only during the past twelve months that we have painfully felt his physical absence from our lives.

     It is incredibly hard to lose one's father. It is equally difficult to lose a father in Christ who has shown us the way to salvation. But part of the healing process will be to use the 1st Anniversary of his repose as a time to appreciate all that the Archbishop shared with his flock, while striving to apply his patience and wisdom to the realities of our own lives.  A priest of our Diocese recently mentioned that he is just now beginning to understand why His Eminence did many of the things as he did, both administratively and pastorally, and that he misses that example very much.  It is true that we often do not realize the full worth of those around us until they have gone to their rest, even someone of Archbishop Dmitri's stature.

     In considering the significance of the upcoming Anniversary I am reminded of the words of Protopresbyter Alexander Schmemann.  In an article for the occasion of America's Bicentennial, reflecting upon the history of Orthodoxy in this country he wrote that, "To love is to remember. And to remember with love is truly to understand that which one loves and remembers, to appropriate it as God's gift."  On this 1st Anniversary then, we may ask ourselves, "what is it that we understand with regard to God's gift of His Eminence?"

     On one level people will bring multiple "understandings," but through the Archbishop's ministry God provided objective signs of His will and design for us -- three in particular -- points of emphasis for which we may be particularly grateful, that continue as part of Diocesan life.  I have in mind signs similar to those indicated by Fr. Schmemann as he spoke of Orthodoxy in America.

     The first is that of Mission. The Church is missionary in character, and "the spirit and motivation of Christian mission everywhere is the total identification of the Church with the people, with their real needs, spiritual as well as material" (Schmemann).  His Eminence was keenly aware of this dimension of Church life which has been part of American ecclesial history from the beginning.  He understood the Southern Protestant tradition, and identified with those searching spiritually for something deeper, more genuine.  He also knew the mindset of cradle Orthodox, experiencing his rebirth in the Faith at Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church in Dallas, and through serving cradle Orthodox Christians as priest at St. Seraphim's, and then as a bishop in the North.  In addition he understood firsthand the struggles of those -- such as Orthodox immigrants -- who fight to make a living for their families, having himself endured periods of notable hardship in his youth.  These experiences the Archbishop brought to his episcopal oversight.  To his eternal credit, through his openness, personal experiences resulted in a sensitivity to those around him.  He identified with the needs of his flock, whether spiritual or material, and he used his understanding of human nature to profit others. His primary focus, however, was on the "one thing needful" which brings ultimate fulfillment.  He sought through various means to impart the message of hope to those with whom he identified:  through hospitality, liturgical translations, preaching, writings, charitable donations, and missionary endeavors.  Even his desire for a Diocesan Pastoral School was partially rooted in a perceived need for an institution that would specialize in interpreting Orthodoxy to a Southern audience.  May his insights and sensitivity to his fellow man continue to be strengthened in us.

     A second essential sign and gift, discernible through the life of His Eminence, was a desire for a Church through which Orthodox Christians of various backgrounds would be united administratively as well as in Faith, a Church, "with her own and unique identity, distinguishing her from other Churches" (Schmemann).  This unity existed in the nascent stages of Orthodoxy in America. But as Fr. Alexander explains, it was eventually, "broken (administratively) and then...replaced with..."jurisdictional multiplicity.""  Here again, the Archbishop was well aware of the history, but his own experiences resulted in an appreciation for diverse expressions of Orthodoxy, as well as patience -- but not passive acceptance -- with the "status quo" of jurisdictional pluralism.  For the sake of good order he followed the service patterns of the Russian Church, yet many Orthodox customs found their way into the life of the Dallas Cathedral. Noteworthy was the Archbishop's desire to work as closely as possible with North Texas faithful on Pan Orthodox projects, his efforts to reach out to the Hispanic community, and later to Russian and Ukrainian immigrants.  In this area of activity he echoed the sentiments of many in America; "that until Orthodox administrative unity is officially achieved in this country through episcopal action, we can work locally in every city as though unity is a reality." Anticipating the 1st Anniversary of his repose, it would be our hope that we can continue in the Archbishop's vision of cooperative efforts with fellow Orthodox Christians of different jurisdictions, while maintaining the vision of an Autocephalous Church in America.

     Finally, God through his servant, provided a sign that, "there is no Christian life -- personal or corporate -- without a Cross" (Schmemann).   As a hierarch of the Orthodox Church the number of crosses borne by His Eminence over the span of 40 plus years would be difficult to imagine.  He revealed personal frustrations and sufferings as crosses, however, to the measure that he bore them in imitation of Christ.  His patience and forbearance -- well known characteristics -- were signs through which our own sufferings may become crosses, possessing a saving effect if we follow His Eminence's example.

      The continuation of our work in the Diocese is indeed an indication that to a degree we have internalized these lessons personified in the life of the Archbishop, though we still have much to learn.  Fr. Schmemann's words regarding the Orthodox Church in this country, may be applied to our own Diocese still in mourning, yet striving to put into practice the basic precepts of the Faith:  "If together we have gone through darkness and difficulties, if we have survived and grown, it means that the Church has truly permeated our lives, that she has become a reality for us."

     In light of the 1st Anniversary of the Archbishop's repose, I am encouraging everyone to mark their calendars for Sunday, August 26, and Tuesday, August 28.  On Sunday the 26th, at 6 pm, Archbishop Nikon will celebrate an extended Panikhida (Memorial Service) for His Eminence at St. Seraphim Cathedral in Dallas.  The service will be followed by a reception in the Church hall.  On Tuesday the 28th, a Divine Liturgy will be celebrated at the Cathedral at 9:30 am, with prayers for His Eminence.  A Panikhida will also be celebrated on August 28 at St. Barbara's, at 7 pm, for Archbishop Dmitri.  It may be that other memorial services, as well, will be held at Churches throughout the Metroplex and I would encourage people to check respective parish websites for differing schedules.

     The upcoming anniversary will remain forever a "red letter" day on our Diocesan calendar.  St. Paul instructs, "remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the Word of God; consider the outcome of their life, and imitate their faith" (Hebrews 13:7).  It is precisely in this spirit that we will gather on August 26 and 28:  to remember our first hierarch, to consider the outcome and achievements of his life, to pray for his salvation and that we may be strengthened -- even in some small measure -- to imitate his resolve.