Lazarus and the Rich Man

Source: orthodoxchristiansupply.com

In this excerpt from one of St. John Chrysostom's homilies on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man, he does what we customarily often does in his preaching: go off the immediate theme in order to develop a moral, ethical or spiritual theme only loosely related to the parable. In analyzing the rich man's practice to "feast sumptuously" at his table, St. John launches into a general lesson on how we should approach the daily need to eat and drink. Here he delivers his famous aphorism on how to approach eating and drinking, which you will encounter below in italics. St. John never missed an opportunity to probe into all aspects of a Christian "lifestyle" - both what we usually term the "spiritual" and the "material."

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Christ has made it very clear that after taking nourishment at table we ought to receive not sleep in bed but prayer and reading of the divine Scriptures. When he had fed the great multitude in the wilderness, He did not send them to bed and to sleep, but summoned them to hear divine sayings. He had not filled their stomachs to bursting, nor abandoned them to drunkenness; but when he had satisfied their need, He led them to spiritual nourishment. Let us do the same; and let us accustom ourselves to eat only enough to live, not enough to be distracted and weighed down. For we were not born, we do not live, in order to eat and drink; but we eat in order to live. At the beginning life was not made for eating, but eating for life. But we, as if we had come into the world for this purpose, spend everything for eating.

Lazarus and the Rich Man

Source: stjohndc.org

St. John Chrysostom poses the question: How do we evaluate real wealth and real poverty? His answer, as indicated in one of his homilies on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man, will sound jarring to us if we evaluate wealth and poverty by the standards of "this world" alone. Yet, St. John always begins with the Gospel revelation centered in Christ's teaching. The "reversal of fortune" found in the parable extends far beyond the story in the Gospel, and into our own perceptions and priorities:
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Let us learn from this man not to call the rich lucky nor the poor unfortunate. Rather, if we are to tell the truth, the rich man is not the one who has collected many possessions but the one who needs few possessions; and the poor man is not the one who has no possessions but the one who has many desires. We ought to consider this the definition of poverty and wealth. So if you see someone greedy for many things, you should consider him the poorest of all, even if he has acquired everyone's money. If, on the other hand, you see someone with few needs, you should count him the richest of all, even if he has acquired nothing.

Lazarus and the Rich Man

Source: store.ancientfaith.com

In yesterday's Monday Morning Meditation, I quoted a passage from St. John Chrysostom's series of homilies on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. I would like to share a few more as the week unfolds. With his typical wide-ranging depth of interpretation, St. John uncovered many themes in this multi-layered parable. In this passage, he speaks of the various roles human beings assume in life. But these very roles will eventually be stripped away in death, and then the true identity of a person will be revealed in the light of God's judgement:

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Just as in the theatre, when evening falls and the audience departs, and the kings and generals go outside to remove the costumes of their roles, they are revealed to everyone thereafter appearing to be exactly what they are; so also now when death arrives and the theatre is dissolved, everyone puts off the masks of wealth or poverty and departs to the other world. When all are judged by their deed alone, some are revealed truly wealthy, others poor, some of high class, others of no account.

Monday Morning Meditation: A Radical Critique of Selfishness - Lazarus and the Rich Man

 

Source: sthermansoca.org

“And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature.” (LK. 8:14)

There is an interior connection between the Parable of the Sower and the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man (LK. 16:19-31), heard yesterday at the Divine Liturgy. For the “rich man” of the parable is the embodiment of a person who has been “choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life,” as described in the Parable of the Sower. Brushing aside the teaching of the Torah, and the Jewish emphasis on charity as one of the great acts of true piety, the rich man remained coldly indifferent to poor Lazarus who was clearly visible at his very gate. Preoccupied with fine linen and sumptuous feasting (v. 19), the rich man was scarcely prepared in his heart to alleviate the sufferings of Lazarus, sufferings that were exemplified by the dogs that licked his sores (v. 20). Such indifference is frightening when seen in the light of the many scriptural admonitions that either chastise the neglect of the poor: “He who closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself cry out and not be heard;”or encourage his care: “He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.” (PROV. 21:13; 19:17)

And the severity of the consequences of such neglect of the poor is vividly described in the parable’s “reversal of fortune,” with the rich man languishing in hades, unable to be relieved of his torment there. The contrast of his fate and that of Lazarus being carried into the “bosom of Abraham” by a heavenly escort is striking. (v. 22-23) 

The Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man was delivered with the Pharisees in mind, for right before Jesus proclaimed the parable, we hear this unflattering description of the Pharisees: “The Pharisees who were lovers of money, heard all this, and they scoffed at him. But he said to them, ‘You are those who justify yourselves before men, but God knows your hearts; for what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God’.” (LK. 16:14-15) Whatever or whoever may have prompted the words of the Lord during his ministry, our concern now is with our own attitude and treatment of the poor. To think or believe otherwise is to fail to “hear” the parable as it is proclaimed today for our chastisement or encouragement. 

The words of the Lord – the “Gospel truth” – cannot be properly assessed within the narrow limits of any political allegiances – Democrat or Republican; nor even of a wider-scoped ideology – liberal or conservative. The Gospel transcends these categories as something far greater and infinitely more demanding of our allegiance. Through this parable, the Lord exhorts us to minister to the "demographically vulnerable" members of our society. In fact, the moral and ethical integrity of any society is revealed to a great degree as to how that society will treat and care for precisely those who are "demographically vulnerable."

At a time when neither political parties nor even political ideologies existed or had any real impact on the prevailing cultural or social assumptions of the time, St. John Chrysostom (+407) delivered a series of brilliant homilies on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. (These seven homilies now exist in English translation under the title on Wealth and Poverty). With his impressive knowledge of the Scriptures; his unmatched rhetorical skills; but most importantly his profound zeal for the moral and ethical teaching of the Gospel; St. John offered a radical critique of selfishness and a radical exhortation to overcome such selfishness for the sake of the poor. Challenging conventional notions of what theft is, he famously expanded its definition by meditating deeply on the parable at hand:

I shall bring you testimony from the divine Scriptures, saying that not only the theft of others’ goods but also the failure to share one’s own goods with others is theft and swindle and defraudation. What is this testimony? Accusing the Jews by the prophet, God says, ‘The earth has brought forth her increase, and you have not brought forth your tithes; but the theft of the poor is in your houses.’ (MAL. 3:8-10) Since you have not given the accustomed offering, He says, you have stolen the goods of the poor. He says this to show the rich that they hold the goods of the poor even if they have inherited them from their fathers or no matter how they have gathered their wealth. And elsewhere the Scripture says, ‘Deprive not the poor of his living.’ (SIR. 4:1) To deprive is to take what belongs to another; for it is called deprivation when we take and keep what belongs to others. By this we are taught that when we do not show mercy, we will be punished just like those who steal. For our money is the Lord’s, however we may have gathered it. If we provide for those in need, we shall obtain great plenty. This is why God has allowed you to have more; not for you to waste on prostitutes, drink, food, expensive clothes, and all the other kinds of indulgence, but for you to distribute to those in need … If you are affluent, but spend more than you need, you will give an account of the funds which were entrusted to you … For you have obtained more than others have, and you have received it, not to spend it for yourself, but to become a good steward for others as well.(On Wealth and Poverty, homily two)

This is a radical teaching, though again not based on any particular social or political philosophy. For St. John the “true philosophy” was adherence to the Gospel. St. John is primarily concerned with uncovering the meaning and implications of what we discover in the Scriptures. If that is challenging to the point of seeming “impossible’” or of least taking us way out of our “comfort zones,” then rather than “soft-pedaling” the Gospel message, St. John would continue in the hope of inspiring us to strengthen our efforts and to put on “the mind of Christ.”

Monday Morning Meditation: Let Us Attend! - The Divine Liturgy and the Scripture Readings

Source: uncutmountainsupply.com

One theme of yesterday's homily during the Liturgy was that "hearing" the words of the Sower carefully, so that we allow them to enter the heart in order to transform us from within. Christ did exclaim at the end of the parable: "He who has ears to hear let him hear!" Thus, I am sharing this older meditation with precisely that theme this morning.

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"Take heed then to how you hear." (LK. 18:18)

Make sure that you never refuse to listen when He speaks." (HEB. 12:25)

We are blessed with hearing the Scriptures at every Divine Liturgy, be it the Lord's Day or any other day on which the Liturgy is celebrated. Therefore, we will hear at least one reading from an Epistle and one from a Gospel. When the calendar so designates it, there may be two readings. When there exists a complicated convergence of feast days and commemorations, there are even Liturgies at which there may be as many as three prescribed readings! 

The readings from the Scriptures are the culminating moments of the first part of the Liturgy, referred to as the "Liturgy of the Word," or "The Liturgy of the Catechumens." Before we commune with Christ in the Eucharist, we commune with Him through the inspired words of the Holy Scriptures - the words of the Word. This is the public proclamation of the Word of God, meant to complement each believer's personal or "domestic" reading of the Scriptures. 

Just as we pray both liturgically and personally; so we hear/read the Scriptures both liturgically and personally. Each is essential to support and make the other meaningful. To ignore one or the other is to impoverish our relationship with Christ.
By the presence of the Spirit, our minds are open to the full meaning of the sacred texts that we hear. This was revealed to all Christians of all generations on the Road to Emmaus, when the Risen Lord encountered Cleopas and an unknown disciple: "And beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself" (LK. 24:27).

Following this encounter and the "breaking of the bread," during which these disciples recognized the Risen Lord, "They said to each other, 'Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the scriptures'?" (LK. 24:32). 

Christ speaks to us today through the reading of the Scriptures, thus making it possible for us today to experience the identical "burning of heart" when we, too, make the time to read the Scriptures. As Fr. John Behr succinctly said: "In the Church, we are still on the road to Emmaus."

Due to the great importance of the liturgical proclamation of the Scriptures, these readings are prefaced by a dialogue between the celebrant, the designated reader and the gathered faithful. I will concentrate here on the liturgical reading from the Gospel, aware that the preparation for the Epistle also has its own solemn and very similar introduction. Before the reading from the Gospel, we thus always hear:

Priest or Deacon: Wisdom! Let us stand aright. Let us listen to the Holy Gospel.

Bishop or Priest: Peace be unto all.

Choir: And to your spirit.

Priest or Deacon: The reading from the Holy Gospel according to Saint _____.

Choir: Glory to Thee, O Lord, glory to Thee.

Priest: Let us attend!

This solemn dialogue both reveals to us that we are about to do something of great importance: proclaim the living Word of God amidst the assembled believers - clergy and laity alike. And this prefatory dialogue is therefore meant to get our attention. In fact, the final words before the actual reading are: "Let us attend!" In some translations, it may be: "Let us be attentive!" In simple English it could be: "Pay attention!"

Right before this we are first directed to "stand aright." This is lost in some translations, which twice read "Let us attend," as a translation of two different Gk. words in this dialogue. When we hear "Let us attend" for the first time, this is actually "Let us stand aright," based on the Gk. command "Orthi" which means more-or-less literally "stand aright." The second "Let us attend!" is based on the Gk. word proskhomen.

The point is that standing at attention is a potentially better bodily posture than sitting for the gathering of our (scattered?) thoughts, as well as simply a bodily posture that expresses greater respect for listening to the Lord teaching us through the words of the Gospel. Strange as it may sound to us, there is something of the soldier standing at solemn attention as he is about to hear his "orders" that must be faithfully fulfilled. This is an image that is found often in Christian antiquity. 

In our Liturgy today, it is a time when there should be no movement in the church, and nothing to distract us from hearing the Gospel with an attentiveness that expresses our love of the Gospel as the "precious pearl" worth more than anything else. An outer silence in the church will hopefully facilitate an inner stillness within our minds and hearts that honors the Gospel reading as the sharing of the "words of eternal life" on our behalf. 

As a possible "test" to measure our actual attentiveness at a given Liturgy, we can ask ourselves later in the day - or perhaps even during the week! - what was the Gospel reading that I heard earlier in the Liturgy? An attentive listening of the Gospel would mean that we can identify the evangelist and, even more importantly, the prescribed text for the day. And the same should hold true for the Epistle reading.  "He who has ears to hear, let him hear!"

If our ultimate goal is to live out the teachings of the Gospel beyond the initial hearing of the Gospel, then our awareness of the text, accompanied by a "burning of heart" will allow us to meditate upon a given passage with the goal in mind of actualizing the teaching heard in our daily lives. How would any of this be possible if we forget the Gospel reading once we leave the church? (The homily is meant to support that process - but that may or may not happen!). If we forget the Gospel reading, that means that we may have "attended" church, but that we were not "attentive" in church. To "be" there cannot be reduced to our bodily presence.

To further emphasize the great significance of the Gospel reading at the Liturgy, there is a wonderful prayer said by the celebrant before we actually get to the dialogue outlined and commented on above. This prayer is placed immediately after the final alleluia verse following the Epistle reading. And it prepares us for the ensuing dialogue. For this reason alone it is my humble opinion that this "prayer before the Gospel" must be chanted/read aloud by the celebrant of the Liturgy - the bishop or priest. That is the practice in our parish. Why should a prayer that embraces everyone present be read "silently" by the clergy alone? Though we have heard this prayer countless times, perhaps bringing it to mind here will be helpful. For the attentive reader of the Scriptures, there are various scriptural passages that are gathered together, alluded to, or paraphrased in this prayer, a few of which will be pointed out:

Illumine our hearts (II COR. 4:6), O Master who lovest mankind, with the pure light (REV. 21:23-25) of Thy divine knowledge. Open the eyes of our mind (EPH. 1:18; LK. 24:45) to the understanding of Thy gospel teachings. Implant also in us the fear of Thy blessed commandments, that trampling down carnal desires (II PET. 2:10), we may enter upon a spiritual manner of living (I COR. 2:12), both thinking and doing such things as are well-pleasing unto Thee (PHIL. 2:13). For Thou art the illumination of our souls and bodies, O Christ our God, and unto Thee we ascribe glory, together with Thy Father, who is from everlasting, and Thine all-holy, good, and life-creating Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Obviously, a good deal is made of the Gospel Reading at each and every Liturgy. This is because the Gospel is "Good News" to be attentively listened to and obeyed. Familiarity may dull our appreciation of this, but we must always struggle against familiarity leading to spiritual laziness or inattentiveness. When (over-) familiarity turns to boredom then we are facing a spiritual crisis of sorts.

Putting aside any such temptation, let us acknowledge how privileged and blessed we are to "stand aright" in church at the Liturgy and to hear the Holy Gospel.  "Let us attend!"

More on Compassion

Source: legacyicons.com

A very fine response to the recent meditation on compassion from our own parishioner, John Dumancic. I thought to share this as a kind of extension/follow through on the theme of compassion:

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Dear Father Steven,

I had this thought while reading this reflection: both 'compassion' and 'sympathy' seem to have the same etymological meaning: com + passio in the Latin, σύν + πάθος (syn + pathos) in the Greek, 'to suffer with'. St. Paul commands us to 'rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep': this is having compassion, when we are so centered on our neighbor that we suffer and rejoice with them in their suffering and rejoicing. (And, with a broader reading of the word pathos, I think you could admit both of these in 'compassion'!) 

The Cross, then, in this reading, reveals God principally as the Compassionate One; God, who is not subject to pathos, nevertheless assumes all our suffering and rejoicing in the Incarnation of the Son: He carried all of our crosses to Golgotha, and by His suffering destroyed our suffering (the fruit of which we will reap in both this life and the ages to come). Or, if you will, by His death and resurrection, He made our suffering and our crosses to be a vehicle of glory, a pathway to eternal life. 'Blessed are they that mourn' — not because mourning is anything good in itself, but because they that love others must mourn, until the Lord 'wipes every tear from every eye.'

Sincerely,

John Dumancic

The Compassion of the Lord

Source: uncutmountainsupply.com

"The Lord is compassionate and merciful, long-suffering and of great goodness." (Psalm. 103:8)

"And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, "Do not weep"." (Lk. 7:13)

Compassion \kem-'pa-shan\: "Sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it." 

Merriam Webster Dictionary

The appointed Gospel that we heard at the Liturgy this last Sunday was Lk. 7:11-16, the extraordinary account of the raising from death of the son of the widow of Nain. This account is unique to the Gospel According to St. Luke. And it is one of the three accounts in the Gospels in which Christ restores a human person to life following death (Jairus's daughter and Lazarus of Bethany being the other two). Although only the Lord Jesus Christ has been resurrected unto eternal life - "For we know that Christ being raised from the dead will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him" (Rom. 6:9) - those three who were resuscitated to life again were seen as pledges or prefigurations of the resurrection of the dead awaited for at the end of time, as affirmed each and every time that we recite the Nicene Creed in our communal and personal prayer. For this reason, the crowd that accompanied the widow of Nain in the funeral procession of her son glorified God, saying, "A great prophet has risen among us!" and "God has visited his people!" (7:16) In this account, Jesus appears as another Elijah who raised the son of the widow of Zarephath (I Kg. 17:17-24). 

However, this raising of the young man is not the only remarkable event of note in this dramatic account. For the mother of the young man was a widow and this was her only son (Lk. 7:12). When the Lord had authoritatively brought the funeral procession to a halt, St. Luke informs us: "And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, Do not weep"." (Lk. 7:13) Compassion always characterized Jesus in his interactions with those who were suffering some form of distress, mental or physical. Jesus understood the distress of this poor widow, who would now be on her own without her husband or son. By restoring the young man to life, he also restores new life to the grief-stricken and lonely widow. In fact, the way that St. Luke conveys this story seems as if that was his main concern in immortalizing it in his Gospel. 

Many will claim that St. Luke stresses the compassion of the Lord the most among the evangelists. Compassion goes beyond mere kindness or helpfulness. It wells up from the heart and it seeks to alleviate the distress of the other. Even the dry definition that is so often characteristic of the dictionary - as cited above - captures this deeper meaning of compassion as an interior sympathy seeking to manifest itself in an exterior action.

Looking inwardly at the "household of faith," which is the Church, the followers of Christ need also to be persons filled with compassion for the other who may be suffering. Compassion takes us far beyond outward forms of piety. Actually, without compassion those forms of piety can dry up and manifest the religious hypocrisy so strongly criticized by the Lord. The world can be a very cold place filled with marginalized and lonely people. We also see that people are often manipulated and abused due to their powerlessness. 

Thus, if a given society is drained of compassion because of a certain ideological orientation or political goals, that society has surrendered its basic humanitarian impulses contrary to the natural goodness of human nature as created by God "in the beginning." The neoconservative social commentator, David Brooks, claims that we are living in "the era of dark passions." He comments on the following: anger, hatred, resentment, fear and the desire to dominate. These are the antitheses of compassion and mercy. And that means that they are contrary to the blessed principles manifested in Christ and meant to be manifested by His followers. In other words, a "Christian" is meant to be "Christ-like."

"Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful." (Lk. 6:36)

Finding God in Popular Culture

Source: uncutmountainsupply.com

While at St. Vladimir's Seminary, my Canon Law professor was John Erickson. Many years later, Prof. Erickson was ordained to the priesthood and even served as the dean of the seminary for a few years. He is now retired, but still serving when and where he made be needed. This is an older article of Fr. John's, written in 2005 (and, I believe, already ordained by then). Nevertheless, it is a timely article for it raises the issue of the Church's relation to contemporary culture. I found it in the latest issue of the Monthly News journal of SUPRASL, an Orthodox Christian movement found in Poland.

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Our world is filled with strange new words. We download our favorite mp3, jpeg, and wav files to our laptops. We listen to our favorite music on our iPods. We consult our favorite blogsters for news and commentary on current affairs. Weary of recreational shopping at the megamall, we turn to a dot.com. We click on an icon quite unlike those that we venerate in church. We express our feelings with an emoticon.

Of course some of our words—and the cultural realities behind them—are not exactly new, though they may be new to us. We enjoy takeout sushi or burritos—not to mention pizza—as much as hamburgers or hotdogs. We patronize upscale restaurants featuring fusion cuisine. We stock up on unpronounceable spices and condiments from every continent save Antarctica.

Contemporary culture—from literature and the arts to sports and fashion—has become global in scope. On the one hand, it is broader and more pervasive than most cultures of the past. No matter where we live on the face of the earth, we are connected by the internet and cell-phones. We drink Coca-Cola. We watch films from Hollywood. We also watch films from Bollywood (Bombay). But this culture is also shallower than most cultures of the past. It is easy to identify shared technologies and foods. It is harder to identify shared values and aspirations.

….sometimes we are tempted to identify our faith with a particular culture, possibly a past culture or even an imaginary culture, so that it is hard for us to envision the possibility of new and different cultural expressions of Orthodoxy. 

How are we Orthodox Christians to respond to this new cultural situation? Do we have a theological word to offer? Sometimes the ‘word’ that we hear is not only critical. It is distinctly hostile. We know that over the centuries Orthodoxy has shown a remarkable capacity to adapt to diverse cultures and even to transform and transfigure them. We point with pride at the accomplishments of St. Cyril and Methodius, of St. Innocent of Alaska, of St. Nicholas of Japan. We know, in principle, that our faith can be expressed in a variety of cultural forms, in response to a variety of cultural circumstances. But sometimes we are tempted to identify our faith with a particular culture, possibly a past culture or even an imaginary culture, so that it is hard for us to envision the possibility of new and different cultural expressions of Orthodoxy. Sometimes we are so enamored of our great cultural achievements of the past that we despair when faced by a future in which our Orthodox faith—indeed the Christian faith itself—seems to be increasingly marginalized. We are tempted to withdraw into sectarian separation from the world rather than engage it in fresh and creative ways. Or, more often, we try simply to ignore the rapidly changing world around us (a futile undertaking!), deeming it of no spiritual significance.

Such approaches—counter-cultural or anti-cultural—may claim a scriptural warrant. Christ tells His disciples that “they are not of the world” (John 17:16), even though they may still be in the world. Christians are warned, “Do not love the world or the things in the world, for if anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him” (I John 2:15). But at the same time, we know that “God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

These words—at first glance contradictory—pose a challenge. They challenge us to love the world, but in a new way. We are indeed to reject “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the pride of life” (as the text from I John continues). But we are to love the world as God does—in a way that is self-giving and ultimately redemptive. We know that the world is fallen. But we also know that God created this world as good, to participate in His goodness, to reflect His beauty and creative power.

Certainly we must reject what is “of the world”—“the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the pride of life.” But at the same time, let us try to love the world as God loves it, with our eyes open and our ears unstopped.

A trip to the mall or a few hours surfing on the internet can provide many examples of “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the pride of life.” But contemporary culture also offers many examples of human striving for justice, beauty and truth. What can we learn from the loneliness and vulnerability of the superhero (cf. Young Superman in Smallville), from the indomitable courage of the hobbit Frodo Baggins in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, from the exposure of hypocrisy and cant in The Simpsons? 

Do we take the trouble to look for Christ—and for the human search for Christ—in these and other expressions of contemporary culture? Perhaps we personally don’t have much interest in comic-book superheroes or Tolkien’s rich fantasy world, not to mention the Simpson family. Perhaps we don’t even use the internet or shop at the malls. But those around us do. And perhaps, in these unlikely venues, they too will meet Christ.

God’s call can be heard in unusual places throughout this world that He loves so much. He beckons to us in unusual ways. Certainly we must reject what is “of the world”—“the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the pride of life.” But at the same time, let us try to love the world as God loves it, with our eyes open and our ears unstopped.

This article was originally published in the programme booklet for Saint Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary’s 2005 Education Day “Icons and ipods: Finding God in Popular Culture”.

From the "Counsels" of the Elder Amphilochios of Patmos

Source: evagelidis.com

• Consider all people to be greater than yourself, though they may have many weaknesses. Don't act with hardness, but always think that each person has the same destination as we do. Through the grace of God I consider all people to be saintly and greater than myself. 

• I was born to love people. It doesn't concern me if he is a Turk, black, or white. I see in the face of each person the image of God. And for this image of God I am willing to sacrifice everything. 

• When a person partakes of Holy Communion he receives power and is enlightened, his horizons widen and he feels joy. Each person experiences something different, analogous to his disposition and the flame of his soul. One person feels joy and rest, another peace, another a spirit of devotion and another an inexpressible sympathy towards all things. Personally, I have often felt tired, but after Holy Communion I felt myself completely renewed. 

• Love Christ, have humility, prayer and patience. These are the four points of your spiritual compass. May the magnetic needle be your youthful Christian heart. 

• We must love Christ; this is necessary for the life of our soul. We also need to love God's creation: animals, trees, flowers, birds, and above all, the most perfect of God's creation, men and women. 

• Whoever plants a tree, plants hope, peace, and love, and has the blessings of God. 

• When someone opens your heart, I'd like him to find nothing there but Christ. 

• An egotistic person doesn't attract anyone. And if someone is attracted, that person will soon distance himself. The spiritual bond becomes indissoluble only when it meets a child-like spirit of innocence and holiness. 

• He who is without love cannot be called a Christian, lest we mock Christianity. 

• My children, I don't want Paradise without you.

From Precious Vessels of the Holy Spirit, p. 51-61.

Fragments for Friday

Source: uncutmountainsupply.com

As you read the rather comprehensive and perhaps idealistic  "job description" below of what it means to be an Orthodox priest in today's world, it is imperative that you know that it was written by a 9 yr. old boy. That boy is one of our parishioners and Church School students, John Settles. John wrote this for his personal journal, and his father Spencer asked him if he would be willing to share it with the parish. John graciously agreed. There is a great deal to live up to in this remarkable personal journal entry. A great opening line!

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I really like Orthodoxy and want to be a priest. It will be an important job. To be a priest, I’ll have to be patient. Priests have to be at every service, do night services, do long services, do baptisms, confessions, house blessings, and holy unctions. You will need to be a helpful person, listen to people, work with the other clergy, help everyone, and give good sermons. You will have to be okay with traveling for your job as you may need to see bishops and serve at churches and/or meet with other priests. You will have to remember all of your parts and work with the deacon, and do extra parts if there is no deacon. You also have to already be married before becoming a priest, if you want to marry. You cannot stop being a priest until you retire, as it is disrespectful. Try not to let your mind wander during the service, as it is disrespectful. You will have to give time to do the liturgy and other services. As Jesus made time for the children, you will need to make time for God. Try to give good lessons and encourage the congregation during your homilies. Beware of Internet Orthodoxy. People post statements on the internet. They may say things about Orthodoxy that are not 100% true or aren’t vital. All of these are examples of vital concepts that help priests and make them good priests.

Fragments for Friday - Dying and Behold We Live

Source: commons.wikimedia.org

Recently, a very prominent Orthodox theologian and spiritual director, Archimandrite Vasileios of Mount Athos, "fell asleep in the Lord." Many may have read his now classic work, The Hymn of Entry, published by SVS Press. Protodeacon John Chryssavgis wrote a deeply-appreciative reflection on Archimandrite Vasileios' life and contributions to the Church. The link provided here will take you to Protodeacon John's article. And below that is a powerful summary of his teaching about the meaning of Christian life and existence, introduced by Metropolitan Kallistos Ware. 

These few paragraphs in their totality are one of the most perfect expressions of Orthodox Christianity in "short form" that I have ever read. Perhaps you will agree. I encourage our inquirers and catechumens especially to read these words carefully, so as to form a genuine understanding of what Orthodoxy offers to the world.

https://publicorthodoxy.org/20...

Dying and Behold We Live

Archimandrite Vasileios of Mount Athos

 [In introducing the Abbot’s talk on monasticism Bishop (now Metropolitan) Kallistos of Diokleia noted that although Father Vasileios is writing about monks, what he has to say in many ways applies to all Orthodox Christians. “Thus, at many points in his address,” Bishop Kallistos writes, “where he speaks of the ‘monk’, readers will find it illuminating to substitute in their minds the word ‘Christian’.” In my paraphrase here of sections of this address (whose title comes from St. Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians (See 2 Cor 6:1-10), I will simply use the word “Christian”. I update the language a bit for greater ease in reading.]

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The Lord did not come into the world merely to make an improvement in our present conditions of life. Neither did He come to put forward an economic or political system, or to teach a method of arriving at a psychosomatic equilibrium. He came to conquer death and to bring eternal life:  God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son to the end that all who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

This eternal life is not a promise of happiness beyond space and time. It is not a mere survival after death or a prolongation of our present life. Eternal life is the grace of God which here and now illumines and gives sense to things present and things to come, to both body and soul, to the human person in his or her entirety.

The appearances of the risen Christ to His disciples had as their purpose to fill them with the certainty that death had been vanquished. The Lord is risen.  Death has no more dominion over Him. (Romans 6:9) He is perfect God who goes in and out, the doors being shut. (John 20:19, 26) He is perfect Man who can be touched, who eats and drinks like any one of His disciples.

What makes persons to be truly human and gives them their specific value, are not their physical or intellectual capacities, but the grace of having a share in the resurrection of Christ, of being able, from now on, to live and to die eternal life.

He who loves his life will lose it, but he who hates his life in this world will keep it unto life eternal. (John 12:25)

True Christians, with the total gift of themselves to God, treasure this one unique truth. They live this one unique joy.  He who loses his life in this world, will save it. The life of a Christian, therefore, is a losing and a finding. 

Orthodox Christians are persons raised up, sharing in the resurrection of Christ. Their mission is not to affect something by their thoughts or to organize something by their own capacities, but by their lives to bear witness to the conquest of death. And they do this only by burying themselves like a grain of wheat in the earth.

Truly, truly I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.

(John 12:24)

The true Christian is one who has been raised from the dead, an image of the risen Christ. He or she shows that the immaterial is not necessarily spiritual, and that the body is not necessarily fleshly. By “spiritual” is meant everything that has been sanctified by the mystery of the Cross and Resurrection of Christ, whether material or immaterial; that is, everything which has been transfigured by God’s uncreated divine energies through Christ and the Holy Spirit.

The true Christian reveals the spiritual mission of what is created and bodily. At the same time she or he reveals the tangible, concrete existence of what is uncreated and immaterial. The true Christian is a person who is totally wedded to this mystery. He or she has the sacred task of celebrating, in the midst of the Orthodox Church, the salvation of all created things.

The true Christians’ purpose in life is not to achieve their individual progress or integration. Their purpose is to serve the whole mystery of salvation, by living not for themselves, but for Him who died and rose again for us, and thereby living for all of their brothers and sisters, and the whole of humanity.

This becomes possible because the true Christian does not live according to his or her own will, but according to the universal, catholic will and tradition of Christ’s holy Church.

Christ is risen! Our eternal joy!