The Dormition Fast: A Challenge and a Choice

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

On Wednesday, August 1, we will begin the relatively short Dormition Fast that always covers the first two weeks of August (1-14), culminating in the Feast of the Dormition on August 15.

We will celebrate the Feast with a Vesperal Liturgy on Tuesday evening, August 14. As has become our tradition, we will place the tomb in the center of the church, decorate it with flowers, venerate the icon of the blessed repose of the Ever-Virgin Mother of God – Miriam of Nazareth - and sing hymns of praise to her “translation” into the Kingdom of Heaven. Not a celebration to be missed! Please mark your calendars and prepare to be present for this beautiful Feast.

Every fast presents us with a challenge and a choice. In this instance, I would say that our choice is between “convenience” and “commitment.” We can choose convenience, because of the simple fact that to fast is decidedly inconvenient. It takes planning, vigilance, discipline, self-denial, and an over-all concerted effort. It is convenient to allow life to flow on at its usual (summertime) rhythm, which includes searching for that comfort level of least resistance. To break our established patterns of living is always difficult, and it may be something we would only contemplate with reluctance. So, one choice is to do nothing different during this current Dormition Fast, or perhaps only something minimal, as a kind of token recognition of our life in the Church. I am not quite sure, however, what such a choice would yield in terms of further growth in our life “in Christ.” It may rather mean a missed opportunity.

Yet the choice remains to embrace the Dormition Fast, a choice that is decidedly “counter-cultural” and one that manifests a conscious commitment to an Orthodox Christian “way of life.” Such a commitment signifies that we are looking beyond what is convenient toward what is meaningful. It would be a choice in which we recognize our weaknesses, and our need precisely for the planning, vigilance, discipline, self-denial and over-all concerted effort that distinguishes the seeker of the “mind of Christ” which we have as a gift within the life of the Church. 

That is a difficult choice to make, and one that is perhaps particularly difficult within the life of a family with children who are often resistant to any changes. I still believe, though, that such a difficult choice has its “rewards” and that such a commitment will bear fruit in our families and in our parishes. (If embraced legalistically and judgmentally, however, we will lose our access to the potential fruitfulness of the Fast and only succeed in creating a miserable atmosphere in our homes). It is a choice that is determined to seize a good opportunity as at least a potential tool that leads to spiritual growth.

My opinion and observation is that we combine the “convenient” with our “commitment” within our contemporary social and cultural life to some degree. We often don’t allow the Church to “get in the way” of our plans and goals. And those plans and goals may be hard to avoid in the circumstances and conditions of our present way of life. It is hard to prevail in the never-ending “battle of the calendars.” The surrounding social and cultural milieu no longer supports our commitment to Christ and the Church. In fact, it is usually quite indifferent and it may even be hostile toward such a commitment. 

Though we may hesitate to admit it, we find it very challenging not to conform to the world around us. But it is never impossible to choose our commitment to our Orthodox Christian way of life over what is merely convenient – or simply desired. That may just be one of those “daily crosses” that the Lord spoke of – though it may be a stretch to call that a “cross.” This also entails choices, and we have to assess these choices with honesty as we look at all the factors that make up our lives. In short, it is very difficult – but profoundly rewarding - to practice our Orthodox Christian Faith today!

I remain confident, however, that the heart of a sincere Orthodox Christian desires to choose the hard path of commitment over the easy (and rather boring?) path of convenience. We now have the God-given opportunity to escape the summer doldrums that drain our spiritual energy. With prayer, almsgiving and fasting, we can renew our tired bodies and souls. We can lift up our “drooping hands” in an attitude of prayer and thanksgiving. 

The Dormition of the Theotokos has often been called “pascha in the summer.” It celebrates the victory of life over death; or of death as a translation into the Kingdom of Heaven. The Dormition Fast is our spiritually-vigilant preparation leading up to that glorious celebration. “Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold now is the day of salvation!” (II COR. 6:2)

'An attitude of listening to God...'

Dear Parish Faithful,

During a somewhat casual conversation that strayed from subject-to-subject within my family circle a few days ago, we collectively arrived at a very rare consensus of opinion: There is just too much "noise" at practically any venue one chooses to attend or visit.

It started with the realization that now even at a sports stadium, there is pop/rock music blaring away all through the event, and television screens out in the concession area promoting products or allowing you to watch the game while away from your seat. Advertising is, of course, ubiquitous. It is as if there is a concerted effort to make sure that no one remains "un-entertained" even if only for a moment. That is just one example from among many. And recently, when in a restaurant, from my particular vantage point, I was able to view four television screens at once (there were a few more behind me) - each with a different program on. (Of the four, I chose "Judge Judy" by the way). Simultaneously, loud rock music was blaring over the speakers!  We were fairly shouting across the table at each other just to make conversation.

Are we, in turn, in danger of inevitably fearing silence? Or, will silence be experienced as a lack of something - anything - to keep us distracted? This brings to mind a dystopian novella by E. M. Forster, The Machine Stops. In a remote future, the "machine" controlled by the State, provides a distinct "hum" in the background that keeps everyone settled and secure. The drama of the story is about the panic that sets in when the "machine stops." Silence can be unsettling.

Thinking this over, I recently received a newsletter from a monastery in New Mexico - dedicated to the Archangel Michael. Perhaps this is typically monastic, but I found this insightful passage in the newsletter. It is from a very prominent Greek Orthodox theologian, Met. Hierotheos Vlahos on the meaning of hesychia or stillness. Combining genuine theology with what we would call spirituality, he writes the following:

Theology means speaking about God based on knowledge and experience of him. Hesychia is the way in which we acquire this spiritual knowledge of God. We live in an age of constant activity, gratification of the senses, uncontrolled imagination and speculations that wear people out. They are searching for inner stillness - hesychia - from the world of the senses and imagination, but also the theology - knowledge of God -- to give their lives meaning.

Prominent as hesychia is in the passage just presented, perhaps we need to ask: what exactly does hesychia mean? It is not exactly a household term (not even in Orthodox Christian households?) or a word used with familiarity in the "public square." In fact, a use of the word could very likely draw a quizzical (or dismissive?) expression.

Thus, it is helpful to present a working definition of this term since it is so often used in our spiritual vocabulary. We hear it often, and perhaps are uncertain how best to translate, or at least understand it. I will turn to the translation work of such prominent scholars and theologians as Archbishop Kallistos Ware, Philip Sherrard and Norman Russell for providing such a working definition, as they have worked on translating texts from our spiritual tradition - and these are often "hesychastic texts" - for many decades. The fruit of this translation work is now accessible in the four volumes of The Philiokalia which have been published to date.

In the useful Glossary provided at the back of each volume, and under the word "stillness," we will find the following:

STILLNESS (hesychia): from which are derived the words hesychasm and hesychast, used to denote the whole spiritual tradition represented in The Philokalia as well as the person who pursues this spiritual path it delineates: a state of inner tranquility or mental quietude and concentration which arises in conjunction with, and is deepened by, the practice of pure prayer and the guarding of the heart. Not simply silence, but an attitude of listening to God and of openness towards Him." (Vol. 4, p. 434-435).

"Inner tranquility," "mental quietude," "concentration," "pure prayer," and "guarding of the heart." The saints tell us that through these practices we can become open to God and actually listen to Him. Are such practices on our spiritual radar screens? Do we deep down long for a taste of such stillness?

As the daily cacophony of amped up noise continues to crescendo, perhaps what Met. Hierotheos reminds us of, is worth a bit of our attention and receptivity.