Showing posts with label guest meditation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest meditation. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 7, 2026

Midweek Morning Meditation

Source: goarch.org

As  a fine exegetical supplement to Fr. Paul's homily from Sunday (Lk. 6:21-36), I am sharing this, prepared by our parishioner Kevin Rains. There is a good deal to assimilate here!

The text and its root (Luke 6:36 / Exodus 34:6)

  • Luke 6:36 — "Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful" — echoes Exodus 34:6's "The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious..."
  • That revelation comes immediately after the golden calf - Israel's worst act of unfaithfulness. God names himself merciful before any sacrifice or repentance restores the relationship. Mercy as self-disclosed nature, not a reward for good behavior.
  • Jewish tradition calls Exodus 34:6-7 the "Thirteen Attributes of Mercy" — the most quoted verse about God's character in the Hebrew Bible, reused nearly verbatim in crisis after crisis (Nehemiah 9, Joel 2, Jonah 4).

The Greek word

  • The beautiful, feminine tone of this passage: (Luke's word) translates Hebrew rachum, which shares its root with rechem - womb. This is visceral, maternal mercy, not a judge's clemency.
  • Ginesthe ("be") is a present imperative — "keep becoming," not a single decision. Mercy is a direction like St Gregory of Nyssa talks about as an ann infinite joirney into God , not a state we ever arrive at.
  • Oiktirmōn appears only twice in the whole NT: Luke 6:36 and James 5:11 ("the Lord is compassionate and merciful" — after Job's endurance).

The non-transactional nature of God (vv. 32-35)

  • "If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do the same." God is kind "to the ungrateful and the evil" (v. 35).
  • The real test of mercy is never the easy case - it's the person who hasn't earned it.

Liturgical enactment

  • "Lord, have mercy" is sung/spoken roughly 30-40 times in a single Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom - were basically rehearsing Exodus 34
  • The Eucharist itself enacts v. 35 — given to the ungrateful before worthiness is proven.
  • Confession follows Moses' own pattern (Exod 34:8-9) — mercy declared first is what makes repentance possible.

Patristic witness (catena bible app)

  • Cyril of Alexandria (on Luke 6:35-36): compassion is an attribute of the divine nature; this virtue restores us to the form of God.
  • Clement of Alexandria: uses homoiōsis ("assimilation to God") for what mercy produces.
  • Worth noting honestly: no Father explicitly equates Luke's "merciful" with Matthew's "perfect" (5:48) but several converge independently on the same destination (likeness to God). Those passages taken together seem to suggest that becoming perfect equates to becoming ever more merciful

Justice connection - since I’m on this justice learning experience in Alabama right now this seem poignant 

  • Mishpat (justice) and hesed (mercy) are paired constantly in the OT - never opposites. Micah 6:8: "do justice, and love kindness/mercy."
  • Deuteronomy 10:18-19 - God "executes justice for the fatherless and the widow," grounded in Israel's own memory of being shown mercy in Egypt. (Also Isaiah 1.17, James 1 fro these categories of widows and orphans) 
  • Jesus defines "neighbor" in the Good Samaritan not as a legal category but as "the one who showed mercy" (Luke 10:37).
  • Acts 6 (the diaconate) and St. Basil's Basiliad (4th c., among history's first hospitals) show the Church turning mercy into institution, not just sentiment.

Tuesday, July 28, 2026

Reflection By An Inquirer

 

Source: ancientfaith.com

I received this from one of our more recent inquirers following the Liturgy on Sunday and the Gospel reading of the Multiplication of the Loaves (Matt. 14:14-22). I appreciate the honesty and openness of what is written, and asked permission to share it with the rest of the parish. Any given Liturgy and any given Gospel passage, can open us up to deep self-reflection, if we in turn arrive with an open mind and an open heart.

_____

Hello Father Steven,

I just wanted to expand on my feelings today during Liturgy. I spoke with you briefly, however, there was no way for me to convey everything that at once ran through me in an explosion of clarity. Writing also often helps me gather my thoughts to make more sense of them.

I have often wondered how, in the scriptures, so many directly saw the miracles of Christ and still did not believe. When reading I often try to place myself in the text to understand better. How could our Lord heal the blind and sick and still be doubted? How could He calm the seas and still be doubted? How could He run out demons from the people and still be doubted? I thought to myself that I would not have been among those that doubted. Can I, however, say that with confidence?

It is so easy to think you know something and yet still not fully understand. I have been to eleven Divine Liturgies now at Christ the Savior Church including the one held today. I knew what the Eucharist represented. And yet, for ten of those liturgies, I did not fully understand the miracle I was witnessing. I can now see that I was one in the multitudes that you described, unaware of a miracle happening right in front of me.

I now reflect that I was even resistant to the idea that simple wine and bread could be transformed into the body and blood of Christ. I have always prided myself for my scientific mind, and learning to have real faith in things I cannot logically comprehend is something I struggle with, though I wrestle with myself to change. When you said today that we may see miracles every day and not believe it due to attributing them to something else, those words rang so true to me. You described something I battle every day. How often have I been skeptical and even resistant? My mind is often closed to the truth and instead insists, “I will believe it when I see it.”

And yet I had “seen” for ten weeks, but only with an unopened mind incapable of true seeing. My “logical” mind took the Eucharist for purely a tradition passed down in honor of Christ. Today, at your words, something finally clicked and took my breath from me as I finally saw the truth that I had missed week after week. My Lord and my God was in front of me and yet I had not recognized Him, just as those who travelled on the road with Him after His resurrection.

It is deeply humbling to suddenly recognize your own blindness that stems from a misguided pride in the "logical" mind. Then I recognized the accompanying unbelief that my pride had led me to. While I felt in the moment that I was silly for the tears that then came to me, who would not weep?

The words of Mark 9:24 come to me now. “Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, ‘Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

There is still so much for me to learn and I pray that my eyes continue to be opened to the truth. For now I will trust in our Lord that He will help my unbelief, if I but stretch out my hands and ask with a sincere and humble heart.

Monday, July 27, 2026

Deep Theology in Shallow Waters

Source: uncutmountainsupply.com

A warm anecdote that I asked the Harkins to share with the parish. 

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This is a small conversation Mae had with a young boy named Brightman she met playing in the waves at Fernandina Beach; he enthusiastically introduced himself, as Mae relayed to me later, and it struck Rhett and I how much the reality of the Trinity is expressed in our faith and naturally absorbed!

Brightman: “Hello! My name is Brightman…I believe in God. Do you believe in God?”

Mae: “Like Jesus Christ? You know, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?”

Brightman: “Yea!”

Mae: “So, you’re a Christian?”

Brightman: “Oh yea, I’m a BIG Christian.”

Mae: “Me too.”

Haha it was so sweet to me that that was the most natural first conversation for these kids, no agenda, just genuine interest; and that Mae immediately clarified exactly which “God” with the Holy Trinity!

In Christ,

Jenny

Tuesday, June 30, 2026

A Guest Reflection

 

Source: prayerrope.co

Kevin Rains here offers a very creative and reading of last Sunday's Gospel reading (Matt. 8:5-13). With insight - not artiface - he finds a liturgical/eucharistic dimension to the healing of the centurion's servant. Please read through this carefully:

_____

Most Orthodox Christians have said the words hundreds of times without noticing: “Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldest come under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” Originally these were not the Church’s words. They are a Roman soldier’s words - lifted verbatim from Matthew 8:8 and placed at the most sacred threshold of the Divine Liturgy, the moment right before we receive Holy Communion.

But that is only the beginning.

The entire shape of the Liturgy mirrors the centurion’s movement. When the deacon cries “Wisdom! Let us attend” before the Gospel, the congregation is standing attentively, silently - that is the centurion’s posture exactly. We are gathered for one reason: to receive the commanding word of One with exousia, divine authority over all things. “Only speak the word.”

Every Kyrie eleison - Lord have mercy - is the same cry that every supplicant in Matthew 8 makes with empty hands. The leper. The centurion. The Syrophoenician woman. The Liturgy is structured around this posture of approaching the unapproachable with nothing to offer but need and trust.

Then there is verse 11, which Jesus speaks over the centurion’s faith: “Many will come from east and west and recline at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”Every Divine Liturgy is that prophecy fulfilled. We - mostly (or all?) Gentiles, outsiders, those coming from east and west - are precisely those Jesus saw when he marveled at a Roman soldier’s faith.

And at the end: “Go in peace” echoes “Go; let it be done.” Sent out having received.

The whole movement is there. Approach. Unworthiness. The commanding word. Healing. Sending.

The centurion’s encounter with Christ mirrors the structure that we follow in every liturgy. From two thousand years ago! And we walk that same path every Sunday.

Tuesday, June 23, 2026

Coming to the Orthodox Church

Source: wikipedia.org

The following is from one of our current inquirers taking our Catechetical Class, and getting prepared to become a catechumen, and then enter the Church. Our potential catechumens are required to write an essay in answer to the question: Why Do I Desire to Enter the Orthodox Church? I found this essay most encouraging, and here are some of the key paragraphs from the essay that I would like to share with the parish.

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Orthodoxy has challenged the way I think about Jesus Christ and the significance of His death and resurrection. It has challenged me to pursue transformation of the heart and to strive to reflect Christ in my actions toward others. While my previous faith tradition emphasized Christ’s death as payment for our sins, I have come to appreciate the Orthodox understanding that Christ came to conquer death and restore humanity to communion with God. This understanding has strengthened my belief that God is loving and merciful rather than merely legalistic.

The people I have met at Christ the Savior have been kind, welcoming, and caring in ways I had not previously experienced. The prayers of the Church have also enriched my spiritual life. Their beauty and repetition have helped me develop greater consistency in prayer, especially during times when I struggle to find words of my own. Through all of these experiences, Orthodoxy has strengthened my faith in ways I never expected.

I truly believe that the Orthodox Church is the Church founded by Christ and preserved through the Apostles. I desire to participate fully in the sacramental and liturgical life of the Church, and I am committed to continuing to grow in faith, repentance, and service. While I recognize that struggles ... may at times affect my attendance, I remain committed to my spiritual growth through prayer, participation in parish life whenever possible.

Tuesday, February 24, 2026

Fr. Thomas Hopko on the purpose of Lent

 

Sent to me by Mother Paula, an Orthodox nun who was once a member of our parish.

+ Fr. Thomas Hopko: MP’s notes from his homilies 


During Great Lent we are purposely remembering paradise. Radically repenting and changing our hearts and minds.
Lent is called the tithe of the year. 10% of the year (365 days)
We must be merciful. Forgiveness stops the power of evil. When one really forgives, we want everyone to be saved.
Remember, we have been baptized, died, raised with Him and sealed with the Holy Spirit. Our life is not our own, we belong to God, our master.
It is only through truth that we are loved by God, created, saved, wounded and healed. No matter how much we fall and sin, He takes us back. He never turns his back on us. We are God’s workmanship.
During the Fast all things we do are a means to an end.Prayer, fasting, almsgiving, etc.


Read the daily Lenten Bible readings. Attend the Lenten Church services.


Receive Lent with gladness!Pray to God to show mercy to one another, constantly forgiving.

Lent is a gift from the crucified Lord. Take it and say thank you! God gives us the grace to do this. Pray, accept the gift of life during this time.
Fasting and almsgiving should all be done in secret. Pray, go into your heart, your closet. Be joyful when you fast, be not dismal.
Just live one day at a time. All of our problems come from thinking, analyzing, and trying to figure things out.
Instead we should think of God and have an awareness of Him. Don’t look back and don’t be anxious for tomorrow.Live peacefully, calmly and patiently.

Lent is a gift given to us by God for our salvation and for the glory of God.
The purpose of the Great Fast is to obtain a broken, contrite and humble heart.

“Come to me all who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is good and my burden is light.” (Mt. 11: 28- 30)

Thursday, February 12, 2026

In place of a meditation

 

Source: newliturgicalmovement.org

Not exactly a very "spiritual" meditation, but I received this from our parishioner Jeffrey Robinson. It speaks for itself in terms of the horrors that the people of Ukraine continue to endure at the hands of the authoritarian Russian regime. 

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I received this update from friends connected to Ukraine. It seems very dire for the people I know living in Zaporizhzhia. I am grateful for the continued prayers offered up in the Divine Liturgy

On February 4: “The security situation in Zaporizhzhia has deteriorated sharply over the past two months. Russian forces are exploiting the cold weather to deprive Ukrainians of heat, light, electricity, and water. 

“Russian terrorists have advanced closer to Zaporizhzhia, enabling them to fire drones and rocket artillery directly at the civilian population. … For the past couple of weeks, air raid sirens have sounded almost continuously – 23 to 24 hours each day – signaling the constant threat of shelling. Explosions echo across the city.”

The KYIV POST, a daily paper published in Ukraine, reported on February 3:

“With temperatures plunging and heating outages spreading …, Russia launched what Ukrainian officials describe as the largest strike on the energy grid so far this year.”

“The human toll is clear. Multi-story buildings are dark, heating is out.” … People try to stay alive in minus four degree temperatures. 

The city of Zaporizhzhia is about eight (8) miles from the front lines of the war, meaning that it could be invaded by enemy forces at any time.”

Tuesday, February 3, 2026

A follow-through commentary

Source: uncutmountainsupply.com

A fine follow-through commentary on the mediation sent our earlier this morning, from Shannon Grubb:

I may have said this before, but what has always struck me the most in reading this parable was that the Pharisee's prayer includes no petition whatever: he doesn't ask anything of God. And that, to me, shows his confidence in his Self and works. For we all need 'something' from God on a continual basis, and indeed, even when at special times we think we'll offer God a prayer of pure thanksgiving, somehow petitions always sneak in. And God does not mind those, I do not think. So for the Pharisee to stand at the temple and ask for nothing - for himself or even for his fellow man - betrays a hardened heart. 

Secondly, I'm about half way through St. Athanasius' Life of Antony (my first time!) I believe it was Antony (if so, I haven't reached that part yet, but I could be wrong) who had a vision where he saw, stretching between him and his destination (God) a field completely full of snares and traps (the Devil's), all the way to the horizon. He asked how it would be in any way possible to navigate through all of those. And the answer came back, "By humility." Also many monks since have maintained that humility is the surest way to defeat the Enemy. And I think it was the same saint who was told "you fast, but Satan does not eat. You keep vigil, but Satan never sleeps (either). However, there is one thing he cannot do: humble himself." Anyway, all good lessons on the necessity of humility. 


Shannon

Friday, January 16, 2026

The Prayers of the Saints

The Saints of North America

One of our parishioners recently shared this excellent explanation of the role of the saints in the Church, especially in regard to their intercessory prayer. This can be very helpful to all of us, but especially to people with a Protestant background, and to those for whom this is such a foreign concept and experience. For the Orthodox, it is natural.

Do we pray to saints—or ask them to pray for us?

Behind this question is a deeper one: what do we really believe about the Church, the resurrection, and the communion of saints?

In the Orthodox Church, we don’t see death as a wall that severs us from those who’ve gone before us in Christ. We proclaim the life everlasting. And if Christ is risen, then the saints are not gone—they are alive in Him.

We affirm that Christ is risen. And if He is truly risen, then death is not the end. It is not separation. It is not silence. For those who have fallen asleep in the Lord, death has become the gateway to deeper life. They are not gone—they are alive in Him.

When we ask a saint to pray for us, we aren’t replacing Christ. We aren’t offering them worship. We are asking our brothers and sisters—who now behold the face of God without veil or distraction—to intercede for us in love.

We are participating in the communion of the Church, which is not divided by the grave. The saints are members of the same Body we belong to, only now they see clearly, love fully, and pray without ceasing in the presence of God.

Revelation 8:3–4 gives us a glimpse of this heavenly reality:

“And another angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer, and he was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints... and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God.”

What do we see here? The prayers of the saints—both those on earth and those in heaven—rising before God together. Offered with incense. Borne up by angelic hands. Received by the Lord.

Prayer, in the Orthodox life, is not a solitary act. It is communion. It is participation in the worship of heaven. And the saints, who now stand in the light of Christ, are not passive observers. They are active intercessors—part of the great cloud of witnesses who pray with us and for us.

The problem comes when we reduce prayer to a transaction—words sent upward, hoping for a response. But prayer, in the Orthodox life, is communion. It’s a relationship, a participation in the life of God. And because the saints are in Him, our relationship with them continues in love.

To ask for their prayers is not idolatry. It’s not superstition. It is faith in the risen Christ, who unites heaven and earth in His Body, the Church.

To ask for their prayers is to confess the Gospel: that Christ is alive, that His Church is one, and that nothing—not even death—can separate us from the love of God in Him.

So when we whisper, “Holy Theotokos, pray for us,” or “St. Nicholas, intercede for my child,” we are not breaking faith. We are confessing it.

So yes—we ask the saints to pray for us. Because we believe in the life of the world to come. Because we believe the tomb is empty. Because we believe in Christ.

Father-Don Purdum

Orthodox Priest/Pastor, Holy Trinity Orthodox Church-AOCC (Elizabethtown, PA), Historian, Theologian

Friday, December 26, 2025

In Place of a Christmas Meditation

 

Christ is Born!  Glorify Him!

The appointed Gospel for this coming Sunday After the Nativity (Matt. 2:13-23), is a stark and violent reminder that all was not "peace of earth" when Christ was born. The "dark side" of the Christmas story is the massacre of the innocents. Of course, we trust God's providential care for His creation, but that darkness manifested then continues to take its toll on the world today.

Below is one more stark reminder of that same "massacre of the innocents" which is a result of the barbarous and horrific war that Putin and Russia have unleashed against Ukraine and its citizens. This was shared with me by our fellow-parishioner, Jeffrey Robinson, who will explain his source of an eye-witness account of what is happening on the ground.

_____

Fr. Steven,

When I lived in Germany, I traveled many times to Zaporozhya Ukraine to teach. Below is an update from a colleague about the present conditions there. I can’t even fathom the suffering. These people are facing, and it makes me extremely sad to think of some of the dear people. I know that live in that city. Lord have mercy!

“Ukrainians travel – some to safer places within Ukraine itself, others leaving the country for safer places in Western Europe. Many Ukrainians do not travel anywhere – they are too old or too infirmed. Our ZBS Director of Development wrote that the invading forces are killing as many civilians as possible, destroying as much infrastructure as possible, and making life as unbearable as they can for Ukrainians. He wrote, “Every single day, every single night is a matter of survival.”

Another colleague wrote that it is hard to celebrate Christmas this year with destruction and horror all around, every day, all night long.” 

_____

The Ukrainian Christmas is celebrated on what the Orthodox refer to as the "Old Calendar," and that means on January 7. We pray that the birth of the Light of the world will bring some deep consolation to a suffering people on that day. The spirit of the Ukrainian people is very strong. They have endured great hardship. When peace finally prevails there, I certainly hope that it is an honorable and lasting peace - not one imposed by diplomatic pressure that does not really have Ukraine's sovereignty and integrity as a democratic nation as a priority.

Thursday, December 18, 2025

On the Veneration of the Theotokos -- Learning to Love the Mother of God

Source: legacyicons.com

As a follow-up to our zoom class on Monday evening, "The Orthodox Veneration of the Theotokos;" I asked two our parishioner who have been Orthodox long enough to absorb the Church's veneration of the Virgin Mary for at least a few years now, to respond with a reflection of their own about how they now perceive, acknowledge and venerate her. Here is the first one, written by Kevin Rains:

Learning to Love the Mother of God

I did not come to love Mary, the Theotokos (God-bearer) all at once.

As a Protestant, I was taught—sometimes subtly, sometimes directly—to keep my distance from Mary. She was honored as faithful and obedient, but always at arm’s length. The concern was understandable: guard the uniqueness of Christ, avoid anything that smelled like excess, keep devotion tethered tightly to Scripture. When I first encountered Orthodox Christianity, I brought that posture with me. I listened carefully. I watched for imbalance. I told myself I would follow the logic of the faith, but I would do so cautiously.

Mary was the slowest piece to fall into place.

At first, I encountered her primarily through liturgy and hymnography. She was everywhere—named, invoked, praised. That made me uneasy. Yet what surprised me was not what the Church said about her, but what it did not say. Christ was never displaced. The Gospel was never softened. Instead, Mary seemed to stand consistently in one place: pointing beyond herself, receiving rather than grasping, magnifying rather than competing.

The first real turning point for me came through a passage I thought I already understood.

In the Gospels, Jesus is told that His mother and brothers are standing outside, seeking Him. His response is startling:

“Who is My mother, or My brothers?”

And looking about at those who sat around Him, He said,

“Here are My mother and My brothers!

For whoever does the will of God is My brother and My sister and mother.”

(Mark 3:33–35; see also Matthew 12:46–50; Luke 8:19–21)

For most of my Protestant life, I heard this as a corrective - almost a rebuke. Jesus, I assumed, was relativizing Mary’s importance, moving the focus away from biology and toward spiritual obedience. And that is partly true. But what I had never considered is that this saying does not diminish Mary - it defines her.

Jesus is not saying, “Mary does not matter.”

He is saying, “This is why she matters.”

Of course, we honor Mary as the Theotokos because she bore the Word of God in her womb. Yet, she is equally honored 
because she embodies the very thing Jesus describes: the one who hears the word of God and does it. In Luke’s Gospel, this connection is made even more explicit. After the same episode, Jesus says:

“My mother and My brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”

(Luke 8:21)

That verse became impossible for me to read in isolation from the Annunciation.

When the angel Gabriel announces God’s invitation to Mary, her response is neither passive nor coerced:

“Behold, the handmaid of the Lord;

let it be to me according to your word.”

(Luke 1:38)

Here is the fulfillment of Christ’s later teaching—spoken decades before He ever preached it. Mary hears the word of God, and she submits to it freely. She does not fully understand the cost. She does not control the outcome. But she consents. Voluntarily. Faithfully.

In that moment, Mary becomes both the Theotokos ("God-bearer") and the first disciple.

This realization changed everything for me. The question was no longer whether honoring Mary distracted from Christ. The question became whether my resistance to Mary was actually blinding me to something essential about discipleship itself. Mary is not an exception to Jesus’ teaching; she is its first and fullest example.

And this is where affection began to grow.

Orthodox devotion to the Theotokos is not about elevating Mary beyond humanity, but about showing what humanity looks like when it fully receives God’s grace. She does not seize authority. She receives a calling. She does not speak often in the Gospels, but when she does, her words are saturated with Scripture and trust (Luke 1:46–55). She stands at the foot of the Cross (John 19:25), not as a theological concept, but as a mother who remains faithful when everything appears lost.

As a Protestant, I was formed to think clearly, argue carefully, and guard doctrine faithfully. Orthodoxy did not take those things away. But devotion to the Theotokos revealed something I had not been trained to see as clearly: that obedience, humility, and love are not secondary virtues—they are the soil in which Christ is received.

I did not lose Christ by learning to love His mother.

I encountered Him more fully—incarnate, vulnerable, and real.

I came to the Theotokos cautiously.

I stay because Scripture, read patiently and lived deeply, led me there.

Kevin Rains

Friday, November 21, 2025

A Thoughtful Response

 

Source: wikipedia.org

Some more thoughtful responses to the NYT's article about the recent conversions to Orthodox Christianity.

_____

Good morning, Father!

Reflecting on the line "The Church becomes monstrous when it worships itself and reduces its identity to lists of moral principles or a retro historical ideal." Two weeks after I became a Catechumen back in 2023, I visited St Gregory Palamas for the first time with a group of guys. After Liturgy, Abbot Josef was kind enough to visit with us in the guest house. Mark Phillips asked Abbot Josef if he had any pieces of advice for inquirers or catechumens, and his response was "Learn to love Christ more than you love Orthodoxy." That has stuck with me as a way to remain grounded and focused, not overemphasizing the form of Orthodoxy or entering into a "Orthodoxy vs the world" mindset, but simply to focus on Christ through the Church. I think it can be easy as a convert to see the Church as something primarily negative, as something that stands opposed to whatever ideology we disapprove of (political, religious, modernity, etc). The Abbot's reminder was that the Church belongs to Christ and points directly at Him; becoming united to the Body for any other reason than Christ is superfluous. 

Just a thought I wanted to share. I agree with you in all of this, finding the article to be dissapointing in its caricature of the Church, though unintentionally. I think it is also a reminder that to begin to understand Orthodoxy, you really have to engage in the rhythm of Orthodox life; a cursory outside look can render these flat renditions of something that is quite beautiful.

In Christ, 

Ben Linnabary

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The Church is the Body of Christ, it is about acquiring the Spirit of Christ, of overcoming prejudice and fear; to believe that love and forgiveness is the ultimate Christian message - the Gospel message, and it should not promote any ideological agenda. There is a lot of chaos on the internet and in Orthodox parishes,  as well as to unfortunately include clergy and monastics, that is, in my opinion, in direct opposition to the Gospel. 

With respect,

Presvytera Deborah

Wednesday, October 15, 2025

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:

_____

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

Friday, October 3, 2025

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.

Thursday, September 25, 2025

Thursday's Theological Thoughts

Source: pixnio.com

I received a number of responses to my most recent Monday Morning Meditation on the season of Fall: a beautiful poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins, together with shared reminiscences of the season from others. (Older parishioners seem to remember those burning leaves!) I also received this from an old friend who graduated from the seminary with me. She draws a wonderful analogy between the dying leaves of Fall and what they may reveal about the "real" person in the end. I thought to share her musings with you.

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Fall has always been my favorite season, as the stifling heat of summer finally lets up and the leaves change. I remember marveling when I learned that the colors are always there, but hidden by the green of the chlorophyll, only to be revealed by the act of dying. This is so in some people, too; our "true colors" are revealed at the end. There's a lesson in there somewhere. It's a wonder that even in its fallen state, creation can still so vividly reflect the glory of the Lord. Like you, I really loved the burning of leaves, although I had thought that this was pretty much a suburban backyard thing, and am surprised to learn that this took place in a city setting too. We are no longer allowed to do this, and for good reason, but it is still a cherished memory.

Tuesday, September 16, 2025

A Sacrificial Act of Love

Source: iconsandechoes.com

This past Monday, on the Feast of the Nativity of the Theotokos, our friend and SUPRASL 2025 speaker Ewa Natalia Moroz-Keczyńska was found not guilty in a Polish court. In 2022, Ewa and four others were arrested for providing food, water, and shelter to two refugee families from Egypt and Iraq who had been forced to cross the Polish-Belarussian border. They faced up to eight years in prison.

While the ongoing tragedy at that border is a complex issue, and well documented elsewhere, my purpose today is simpler: to share Ewa’s story as a powerful, clear and courageous example of what it means to live out the teachings of Christ in real time.

The situation of refugees and migrants — whether in Europe or across the world—is undeniably complex, entangled in politics, national security, competing humanitarian concerns where the lives of human beings are often exploited to push competing narratives.

I understand the fears many people carry. If my own country faced a sudden influx of refugees, I too might be afraid— of losing security, of strained resources, or of cultural change. These are real, deeply human concerns that should not be dismissed.

Yet as Christians, we are called to view these realities through the lens of the Gospel. We cannot expect governments to always do the right, or the Christian, thing. And likewise we should when its seems that our political leaders or governments seem to be promoting Chrisitan values we should take care to inquire into their true intentions. That being said, while courts are not arbiters of the Gospel, the “not guilty” verdict in Ewa’s case resonates strikingly with Christ’s teaching. We can take strength not because the court validated Jesus’s teachings, but because we see that the Lord has heard our prayers; He has seen the good and justified deeds of His people.

The verdict in Ewa’s case came on the feast day of the Nativity of the Mother of God (new style). The Gospel reading for the feast gives us a clear lens for Ewa’s story. In Luke’s Gospel a woman calls out to Christ, blessing His mother: “Blessed is the womb that bore You, and the breasts which nursed You!” And Christ replies: “More than that, blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” Luke 11:27-28. In this short response, as Christ is often want to do - keep it simple - all of His teaching is summed up. Keep the word of God. Keep His commandments. This is an astounding response from our Lord, for in it he places greater honor not on proximity to Him, not even on being the Theotokos, but on the simple and radical act of living His word.

And we know well from the parable of the Good Samaritan, which immediately precedes the reading for the feast, what that word, what that commandment is: to “love God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind, and our neighbor as ourselves.” Luke 10:27. And Christ leaves no doubt about who our neighbor is: “The one who showed mercy” (Luke 10:37).

Ewa and her companions know this message intimately. They did not act for personal gain, for performance, or even as political protest. They acted as neighbors, performing a sacrificial act of love, fully aware that it could cost them their own freedom. The court’s ruling offers a rare glimpse of light in our polarized world, concluding that “helping people in desperate need, without seeking personal benefit, cannot be criminalized. To suggest otherwise would mean punishing every act of compassion.” The court went even further suggesting that, “Disagreement with an unjust status quo is often the spark that drives necessary change.”

War, injustice, poverty, and climate change force millions to flee their homes. Here lies our tension: the fears of host nations are real, but so too is the suffering of those who arrive. The Christian call does not dismiss those fears—but it also does not allow us to harden our hearts.

St. Maria of Paris, reflecting on John 3:16, wrote: “There is no following in the steps of Christ without sharing, however small, in this sacrificial act of love.”

Today, there are 122.6 million refugees worldwide. Each one is a human being created by God. To each, we are called to be a neighbor.

May we have the courage not only to hear the word of God but, like Ewa, to keep it.

Wednesday, September 10, 2025

Midweek Morning (Guest) Meditation - The Weeds Between Us

Source: ancientfaith.com

This growing season I have tried to let the big garden at the park “lay fallow” or rest without the burden of needing to produce food for For the Life of the World Cafe. Last year I grew and put up enough menu staples to last us until the spring of ‘26. With the scriptural invitation to let fields lay fallow every seven years, and having tended the soils of our West Norwood neighborhood for fifteen consecutive growing seasons, both the fields and I have been doubly due for some “rest-oration.” However, over the course of the last eight months, I have learned that this is more easily said than done.

I couldn’t simply have a hands-off approach all year, allowing the gardens to be overtaken with weeds and grass. The city of Norwood gave me eighteen dumptruck loads of half-composted leaves, which I used to bury the garden and suppress the weeds. This helped a lot, but it didn’t take me long to discover that even a foot of half-composted leaves does little to check the life force of crabgrass, nutsedge, and thistle.

Yesterday afternoon, in an attempt to keep the thistle from going to seed, I worked to pull tens of thousands of prickly plants for the fourth time this growing season. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated about doing this work during my sabbatical. Then I spotted my son, Kallum, and his kindergarten classmates coming down to the park for their afternoon play time. Fifty yards from the playground, and elbow deep in the thistle, I watched Kallum run non-stop for the next twenty minutes. His joy and freedom of play was so beautiful and so good. 

As I continued my work, buoyed by the gift of watching him, I thought of the many children around the world who, for a variety of political reasons, do not have the freedom, the energy, or the health to run around and play. I thought of children in Sudan and Gaza and Ukraine suffering from war and famine. I thought of children who are not receiving vital medical care, without which they will likely lose out on their childhood, and possibly die. I thought of immigrant children who are here in the United States by no decision of their own, living in constant fear of being separated from their families. Slowly, the thistle became an invitation to pray. Pulling these pernicious and pokey weeds yet again, and watching my son play, I held to God our polarized nation and suffering world.

Those of us who run this cafe believe that all of our lives, near and far, are interconnected, whether we realize it or not. And we believe that both on material and spiritual levels the flourishing of our neighborhood is inextricably connected to the well-being of the wider world. We believe these ideas are not mutually exclusive but mutually dependent.

In the gospel of John, Jesus declares that he gives his life–his very flesh–”for the life of the world”, (6:51), – not just for those with whom he agrees; not just for those who we like. He gives his life for Sudanese and Palestinians, for Ukrainians and Americans, for conservatives and liberals, for immigrants and citizens.

As a counternarrative to the fear-driven belief that we Americans need to “circle the wagons” and stop caring for others, whether people far away or those nearby with whom we do not agree, For the Life of the World Cafe insists that in order to “take care of our own here,” we must not abandon the heart of God for people in need around the world, particularly children who are truly innocent bystanders. To this end, during the month of September, For the Life of the World Cafe will donate 10% of its gross proceeds to the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation which lost a tremendous amount of its funding through the dissolution of USAID (U.S. Agency for International Development). In this way, may our small work here be for the life of the world and for the flourishing of our neighborhood.

Robert Lockridge

Monday, August 4, 2025

(Guest) Monday Morning Meditation

Source: store.ancientfaith.com

At the Liturgy yesterday, the homily focused on the Multiplication of the Loaves and the Feeding of the Multitude (Matt. 14:14-22). This led further to speaking about the Eucharist. Therefore, I would like to share these comments below by one of our new catechumens, Sarah Emerick, and her initial experience of the Divine Liturgy.

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One reason I want to become Orthodox is because the Divine Liturgy is the first worship experience where I’ve felt the veil between Heaven and earth is thinnest. I truly believe the persons in the icons I venerate are present there with me. The Divine Liturgy is a place where I feel removed from time, from culture, from the crushing weight of the human experience. I feel that I have one foot in this reality, and the rest of me is participating to my utmost ability in the coexisting Kingdom of God that I know is present all around us, although unseen. The Divine Liturgy makes real something I have always felt to be true, the Kingdom of God is at hand, it actually is already here, all around us.

Another reason I wish to become Orthodox is the incorporation of the whole body and the senses in worship. Everything matters, everything has meaning, from the way we sit, the way we stand, the way we make the Sign of the Cross, the words we use, the hymns we sing, etc. Everything is intentional, everything is deeply rooted in tradition and connects us with the two-millennium’s worth of Orthodox Christians that have come before us. 

Although deeply rooted traditions are present, there is also this feeling of personal freedom when it comes to worship as an Orthodox. It is a beautiful juxtaposition of communal tradition and spiritual individuality. Speaking of individuality, the final reason I will comment on why I want to become Orthodox is its insistence on the beauty and dignity of each individual person. The Orthodox faith doesn’t hijack the phrase “dignity of human life” to merely push their political anti-abortion agenda. It’s been made clear to me over my months of inquiry that honoring the dignity of a human person means honoring every. single. person. Full stop. End of.

The Orthodox faith is so much more open, incredibly loving, and inviting than I ever gave it credit for. Thought, not because I ever thought ill of the Orthodox Church, I just didn't have the exposure. I was prepared to be turned away when I first began attending Christ the Savior/Holy Spirit for many reasons: I am not cradle Orthodox, and I'm in no way Eastern European. However, none of those things matters and I was welcomed and cherished beyond what I could have hoped for.