Our Vocation as Christians

 

Christ before His enemies

 

Dear Parish Faithful, "And in Antioch the disciples were first called Christians." (Acts 11:26) "I want to be a man of the Church. I do not want to be called by the name of some founder of a heresy, but by the name of Christ, and to bear that name which is blessed on the earth. It is my desire, in deed and in spirit, both to be and to be called a Christian."  - Origen (+254)   _____ It is not exactly a compliment to be called a Christian in today's world. And it is not simply a matter of the unbelieving world dismissing Christians and the Gospel. "Christian" rhetoric of a most uncharitable, and at times vitriolic kind, is now widely scattered among the battlefields of today's "culture wars." This rhetoric is now no longer shocking, but rather expected from the Christian front. When overly-zealous Christians encounter anything that they fully disagree with in these "culture wars," they will inevitably label it as "demonic" - and make the point loud and clear. That derisively dismissive term has a finality about it, that closes off any further discussion or analysis of the given topic of disagreement.  In addition, "politicized theology" is just as easily expressed and proven to be divisive within various Christian bodies, at least in America. Loyalty to a political party or to an ideology seems to be more passionately embraced than loyalty to Christ and the Gospel. This state of affairs, widely covered in the press, has only proven to demean and devalue the title of "Christian." Unfortunately, Christians who are not caught up in the "culture wars" or "politicized theology," also bear the brunt of the opprobrium now attached to the title "Christian." It can all get a bit embarrassing.  In the light of this, there is something very refreshing and inspiring in what Origen says about being called a Christian. For Origen, in the 2nd - 3rd centuries of the Christian era, it was such an honor - and responsibility - to bear the name of Christ. Origen, we know, suffered torture as a confessor for his confession of being a Christian during a time when Christians were persecuted within the confines of the Roman Empire. And it is possible that when the disciples of Christ were "first called Christians," in Antioch, that the title was used disparagingly. To declare oneself a Christian in such an oppressive atmosphere was a courageous act that will potentially inspire others.  It seems like we have to recapture and rediscover some of the fire and energy with which Origen imparts to the honor of being "called a Christian." The name of Christ "blesses" the earth and just to recover that truth is essential to our commitment to the vocation of bearing His name in the world. Yet, Origen is clear that we must do so "in deed and in spirit." It was just two Sundays ago, that we heard these words during the Liturgy from the Gospel According to St. Luke: "But I say to you that hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you." (Lk. 6:27-28) It my take a lifetime to be able to put that part of Christ's teaching into practice.  A good deal of the unbelieving world looks for reasons to mock Christians as hypocritical and unloving. Christians, in turn, have a noble obligation to struggle against these unwanted labels, which hardly belong to the 'mind of Christ." Restoring dignity and honor to the name of Christian is a worthy vocation to be pursued in a world in which both Christians and non-Christians seem to be confused and misguided.

Embracing the Tradition

 

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

The meditation below was written with the current Dormition Fast (August 1-14) in mind in addition to the incredible account of the Seven Maccabean martyrs. It is that wonderfully-placed mid-summer reminder that we are called to be practicing Orthodox Christians. The practicing Orthodox Christian combines orthodoxy ("right belief") with orthopraxis("right practice/action"). Or, as St. John Chrysostom said, "This is true piety: to combine right belief and right action." Orthopraxis combines prayer and almsgiving and fasting (MATT. 6). All of this is to prepare us to honor the most holy Theotokos.

 

On August 1, we commemorate the Seven Holy Maccabee Children, Solomone their mother, and Eleazar their teacher, all of whom were put to death in the year 168 BC. As such, they were protomartyrs before the time of Christ and the later martyrs of the Christian era. They died because they refused to reject the precepts of the Law when ordered to do so by the Syrian tyrant Antiochus Epiphanes IV. 

After conquering the Holy Land, Antiochus wanted to subvert the uniqueness of the Jews and force them to assimilate to the standards and practices of the prevailing Hellenistic culture. By attacking the precepts of the Law, Antiochus was aiming to destroy the very heart of Judaism. The Jews would then become like the “other nations,” and perhaps their smoldering resentment against their conquerors would be extinguished. This, of course, did not happen, because the Maccabean revolt, led by Judas Maccabaeus, not only resisted but expelled the Hellenized Syrian invaders and restored the Kingdom of Israel to its former glory days one last time (142 - 63 BC) before the Romans under Pompey reduced the Kingdom of Israel to a conquered province.

To return to the story of the Maccabees, we find them, under the guidance of their teacher Eleazar, resisting the decree that they eat pork, which was prohibited by the Law. Understanding that this was a threat against their entire traditional way of life, Eleazor refused and was subsequently tortured until he died. He was simply asked to “pretend” to eat the meat, so as to encourage others to do so. In reply, his dying words as recorded in the first book of Maccabees eloquently attest to his fidelity to the Law of God: 

"Send me quickly to my grave. If I went through with this pretense at my time of life, many of young might believe that at the age of ninety Eleazar had turned apostate. If I practiced deceit for the sake of a brief moment of life, I should lead them astray and bring stain and pollution on my old age. I might for the present avoid man’s punishment, but, alive or dead, I shall never escape from the hands of the Almighty. So if I now die bravely, I shall show that I have deserved my long life and leave the young a fine example to teach them how to die a good death, gladly and nobly, for our revered and holy laws."

Following the death of Eleazar, the seven Maccebee brothers and their mother Salomone were arrested. They were also tortured for refusing to eat pork, and one of them said:  “We are ready to die rather than break the laws of our fathers” (2 Maccabees 7:2).

Enraged by such pious resistance, the tyrant ordered that all seven brothers be tortured by various inhuman means. All of this was witnessed by their mother, who watched all seven of her sons perish in a single day. Acting “against nature,” she encouraged her children “in her native tongue” to bravely withstand the assaults on their tender flesh: 

"You appeared in my womb, I know not how; it was not I who gave you life and breath and set in order your bodily frames. It is the Creator of the universe who molds man at his birth and plans the origin of all things. Therefore he, in his mercy, will give you back life and breath again, since now you put his laws above all thought of self” (2 Maccabees 7:22-23).

We find in her last sentence, a clear allusion to belief in the resurrection from the dead.

Especially poignant is the death of her last and youngest son. He was promised riches and a high position if he only agreed to “abandon his ancestral customs.” Salomone his mother was urged to “persuade her son,” which she did in the following manner: 

“My son, take pity on me. I carried you nine months in the womb, suckled you three years, reared you and brought you up to the present age. I beg you, child, look at the sky and the earth; see all that is in them and realize that God made them out of nothing, and that man comes into being in the same way. Do not be afraid of this butcher; accept death and prove yourself worthy of your brothers, so that by God’s mercy I may receive you back again along with them” (2 Maccabees 7:27-29).

In verse 28, we hear the clearest declaration of the belief that God creates “ex nihilo”—from nothing—in the entire Old Testament.

The youngest of the brothers then died after both witnessing to the meaning of their martyrdom and warning the tyrant of his own inevitable fate:  

“My brothers have now fallen in loyalty to God’s covenant, after brief pain leading to eternal life; but you will pay the just penalty of your insolence by the verdict of God. I, like my brothers, surrender my body and my life for the laws of our fathers” (2 Maccabees 7:36-37).

We then simply read, in verse 39, that “after her sons, the mother died.”

It is difficult to say to what extent we can actually relate to all of this today. We may deeply respect the devotion to the Law that is exhibited in this moving story of multiple matyrdoms—and perhaps be especially moved by the beautiful words of the mother that express our own belief in the creative power of God, His providential care for us and the ultimate gift of resurrection and eternal life with God—but this is far-removed from our contemporary Christian sensibilities. In fact, such devotion today could very well strike us as being overly zealous, if not fanatical. The prospects of such martyrdoms are not exactly on our radar screens. Be that as it may, I believe that we have something greater than mere passing importance that we can learn from this ancient story.

____________ 

Yesterday, August 1, we began the Dormition Fast. We are encouraged by the Church—our “Mother” we could say—to embrace the fast with the certainty that we are being guided into a practice that is designed to strengthen our spiritual well-being. This is part of an Orthodox “way of life” that has been witnessed to for centuries by the faithful of the Church. We also could say that such practices belong to the “laws of our fathers.” By embracing such practices we continue in the Tradition that has been handed down to us, the Tradition that we have “received.” To ignore such practices is to break with that Tradition. That can lead to an erosion of our self-identity as Orthodox Christians, especially considering our “minority status” in the landscape of American religion. 

The spirit of the tyrant Antiochus Epiphanes is alive and well in the constant temptation we face to assimilate to the surrounding society and its mores, which are often reduced to finding the meaning of life in “eating, drinking and making merry.” There are no official decrees that demand that we abandon our Faith, but there is always a price to pay for comfortable conformity. We are hardly being asked to be martyrs but we are being asked to manifest some restraint and discipline in order to strengthen our inner lives as we fast bodily to some extent. If we convince ourselves that this is inconvenient, uncomfortable, or undesirable, then we place ourselves outside of the very received Tradition we claim to follow and respect. 

Older members of the community can bear in mind the words of Eleazar and realize that we are setting an example for our younger members. We are responsible for preparing the next generation. Mothers—and fathers!—can exhort their children in a way that is encouraging and not just demanding. This has nothing to do with mere “legalism,” but with a “way of life” that has been practiced for centuries by Orthodox Christians, and which is just as meaningful today as in the past. 

And, as with the Seven Maccabee Children, it is ultimately a matter of choice.

Embracing the Tradition

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

 

 

The meditation below was written with the current Dormition Fast (August 1-14)  in mind in addition to the incredible account of the Seven Maccabean martyrs.  It is that wonderfully-placed mid-summer reminder that we are called to be practicing Orthodox Christians.  The practicing Orthodox Christian combines orthodoxy ("right belief")  with orthopraxis ("right practice/action"). 

 

Or, as St. John Chrysostom said, "This is true piety: to combine right belief and right action."  Orthopraxis combines prayer and almsgiving and fasting (MATT. 6).  All of this is to prepare us to honor the most holy Theotokos.

 

The Maccabean Martyrs

                                                                                                                                            

  

On August 1, we commemorate the Seven Holy Maccabee Children, Solomone their mother, and Eleazar their teacher, all of whom were put to death in the year 168 BC.  As such, they were protomartyrs before the time of Christ and the later martyrs of the Christian era.  They died because they refused to reject the precepts of the Law when ordered to do so by the Syrian tyrant Antiochus Epiphanes IV.  

After conquering the Holy Land, Antiochus wanted to subvert the uniqueness of the Jews and force them to assimilate to the standards and practices of the prevailing Hellenistic culture.  By attacking the precepts of the Law, Antiochus was aiming to destroy the very heart of Judaism.  The Jews would then become like the “other nations,” and perhaps their smoldering resentment against their conquerors would be extinguished.  This, of course, did not happen, because the Maccabean revolt, led by Judas Maccabaeus, not only resisted but expelled the Hellenized Syrian invaders and restored the Kingdom of Israel to its former glory days one last time (142 - 63 BC) before the Romans under Pompey reduced the Kingdom of Israel to a conquered province.

To return to the story of the Maccabees, we find them, under the guidance of their teacher Eleazar, resisting the decree that they eat pork, which was prohibited by the Law.  Understanding that this was a threat against their entire traditional way of life, Eleazor refused and was subsequently tortured until he died.  He was simply asked to “pretend” to eat the meat, so as to encourage others to do so.  In reply, his dying words as recorded in the first book of Maccabees eloquently attest to his fidelity to the Law of God:

"Send me quickly to my grave.  If I went through with this pretense at my time of life, many of young might believe that at the age of ninety Eleazar had turned apostate.  If I practiced deceit for the sake of a brief moment of life, I should lead them astray and bring stain and pollution on my old age. I might for the present avoid man’s punishment, but, alive or dead, I shall never escape from the hands of the Almighty. So if I now die bravely, I shall show that I have deserved my long life and leave the young a fine example to teach them how to die a good death, gladly and nobly, for our revered and holy laws."

Following the death of Eleazar, the seven Maccebee brothers and their mother Salomone were arrested.  They were also tortured for refusing to eat pork, and one of them said:  “We are ready to die rather than break the laws of our fathers”  (2 Maccabees 7:2).  

Enraged by such pious resistance, the tyrant ordered that all seven brothers be tortured by various inhuman means.  All of this was witnessed by their mother, who watched all seven of her sons perish in a single day.  Acting “against nature,” she encouraged her children “in her native tongue” to bravely withstand the assaults on their tender flesh:

"You appeared in my womb, I know not how; it was not I who gave you life and breath and set in order your bodily frames.  It is the Creator of the universe who molds man at his birth and plans the origin of all things. Therefore he, in his mercy, will give you back life and breath again, since now you put his laws above all thought of self”  (2 Maccabees 7:22-23).  

We find in her last sentence, a clear allusion to belief in the resurrection from the dead.

Especially poignant is the death of her last and youngest son.  He was promised riches and a high position if he only agreed to “abandon his ancestral customs.”  Salomone his mother was urged to “persuade her son,” which she did in the following manner:

“My son, take pity on me.  I carried you nine months in the womb, suckled you three years, reared you and brought you up to the present age.  I beg you, child, look at the sky and the earth; see all that is in them and realize that God made them out of nothing, and that man comes into being in the same way. Do not be afraid of this butcher; accept death and prove yourself worthy of your brothers, so that by God’s mercy I may receive you back again along with them”  (2 Maccabees 7:27-29). 

In verse 28, we hear the clearest declaration of the belief that God creates “ex nihilo”—from nothing—in the entire Old Testament.

The youngest of the brothers then died after both witnessing to the meaning of their martyrdom and warning the tyrant of his own inevitable fate: 

“My brothers have now fallen in loyalty to God’s covenant, after brief pain leading to eternal life; but you will pay the just penalty of your insolence by the verdict of God.  I, like my brothers, surrender my body and my life for the laws of our fathers”  (2 Maccabees 7:36-37).  

We then simply read, in verse 39, that “after her sons, the mother died.”

It is difficult to say to what extent we can actually relate to all of this today.  We may deeply respect the devotion to the Law that is exhibited in this moving story of multiple matyrdoms—and perhaps be especially moved by the beautiful words of the mother that express our own belief in the creative power of God, His providential care for us and the ultimate gift of resurrection and eternal life with God—but this is far-removed from our contemporary Christian sensibilities.  In fact, such devotion today could very well strike us as being overly zealous, if not fanatical.  The prospects of such martyrdoms are not exactly on our radar screens.  Be that as it may, I believe that we have something greater than mere passing importance that we can learn from this ancient story.

____________

 

Tomorrow, August 1, we are beginning the Dormition Fast.  We are encouraged by the Church—our “Mother” we could say—to embrace the fast with the certainty that we are being guided into a practice that is designed to strengthen our spiritual well-being. This is part of an Orthodox “way of life” that has been witnessed to for centuries by the faithful of the Church.  We also could say that such practices belong to the “laws of our fathers.”  By embracing such practices we continue in the Tradition that has been handed down to us, the Tradition that we have “received.”  To ignore such practices is to break with that Tradition.  That can lead to an erosion of our self-identity as Orthodox Christians, especially considering our “minority status” in the landscape of American religion.  

The spirit of the tyrant Antiochus Epiphanes is alive and well in the constant temptation we face to assimilate to the surrounding society and its mores, which are often reduced to finding the meaning of life in “eating, drinking and making merry.”  There are no official decrees that demand that we abandon our Faith, but there is always a price to pay for comfortable conformity. We are hardly being asked to be martyrs but we are being asked to manifest some restraint and discipline in order to strengthen our inner lives as we fast bodily to some extent.  If we convince ourselves that this is inconvenient, uncomfortable, or undesirable, then we place ourselves outside of the very received Tradition we claim to follow and respect.  

Older members of the community can bear in mind the words of Eleazar and realize that we are setting an example for our younger members.  We are responsible for preparing the next generation.  Mothers—and fathers!—can exhort their children in a way that is encouraging and not just demanding.  This has nothing to do with mere “legalism,” but with a “way of life” that has been practiced for centuries by Orthodox Christians, and which is just as meaningful today as in the past.  

And, as with the Seven Maccabee Children, it is ultimately a matter of choice.

 

 

 

Notes from Undergrad Halls: On Nihilism, Mysticism, and Genuine Christianity

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

I was pleasantly surprised - if not startled - on my first day back to XU for the Fall semester this past Monday. As I approached my classroom, a student actually approached me with the greeting, "Hello, Fr. Kostoff." He then went on to introduce himself and tell me that he is in my class for the upcoming semester and so forth. The pleasant surprise was the simple fact that a student actually greeted me in the hallway. 

As I have commented before, it seems as if every single student roaming or standing in the hallway has his/her face buried in their smartphones, more-or-less oblivious to the world around them, including fellow human beings such as myself. So I am programmed not to disturb this intense concentration and I simply stand aside as an observer of the student traffic as I await my turn to enter the designated classroom.

This semester I am teaching my course on Christian Mysticism. This, in turn, allows me to essentially teach a course on Orthodox Spirituality. After the preliminary introductions and class description that I have prepared, my students are always asked to answer four questions before we depart from this opening session.

The primary question is: "What is Christian Mysticism?" These initial answers are not at all promising. Past experience has braced me to maintain a level of modest expectations as related to this question. Most students simply write: "I do not know," thus economizing on their time and brain energy. Some take a stab at it. One answer read as follows: "Christian mysticism is a disbelief or skepticism of some aspect of Christianity." This one I had to address in class today, so as to minimize that particular student's misunderstanding of the content of the class that he (or his parents) are paying for.

Yet, one young woman struck a good chord with the following response: "Christian mysticism is the study of the deeper parts of Christianity that are not evident in the outer rites and rituals." Not the whole picture, but a solid starting point from which to begin.

A fourth and final question is simply: "What is your religious background?" This serves to give me some context as to where my students "are coming from." This usually yields a round of "Roman Catholic, though no longer practicing;" "Haven't figured it out yet;" and the occasional odd one, such as "non-denominational, non-congregational." 

What was quite interesting here, though, was the response of the respectful student from our earlier pleasant hallway conversation. He wrote: "Existential nihilist/Buddhist!" That would not have been my first guess. Hope he understands what he is in for in this class!

On further reflection I would say that it is not that difficult to label oneself a "nihilist" when only twenty years old. Especially if life has not posed too many challenges as of yet. Mortality is a distant and perhaps abstract fear and the real existential dread of living in a meaningless universe may not just "kick in" until somewhat later in life. And then it all gets a bit more serious.

In a strange way, there is a certain romanticism connected with the notion of nihilism. Or perhaps there is something "heroic" about staring into the abyss. (Also probably a good deal of posturing involved.) Recent studies show that one's brain does not fully develop until about the age of twenty-five. So, hope remains.

As to combining nihilism and Buddhism, a good case could be made for the compatibility of the two. Many Buddhist scholars would loosely define - or liken - Nirvana to extinguishing a candle. All suffering and reincarnation are over - but is there then "nothing?" Buddhism may just be the noble form of nihilism. Be that as it may, I am sure that my student and I will enjoy each other's company this semester. He seems very bright and serious. Haven't seen him on his smartphone yet.

The primary text that I assign for the course is The Roots of Christian Mysticism written and edited by Olivier Clement. This has already been accorded the status of a "classic" in Orthodox circles, and deservedly so. (Many of you will recognize this title from a fairly recent Fall Adult Education Class. Everyone in the class seemed quite impressed with the content of the book). In this book, Clement has amassed a collection of the classic spiritual texts from the great Fathers up to the eighth century, something of the "golden age" of patristic theology. He has arranged them thematically, taking the reader through the rigors of asceticism to the riches of contemplation. Clement has included wonderful texts about Baptism and Eucharist, and of course about prayer.

The Preface of the book, written by a certain French writer by the name of Jean-Claude Barreau, has some deeply challenging thoughts that any "nihilist" or "skeptic" should also ponder. Yet, his first round of challenging thoughts are directed to the Christian churches, and we need to hear this also:

While are our consumer society has lost all feeling for mysticism, on the fringes there are thousands of people thirsting for it. When we see the shallow syncretism, the sentimental fascinations with anything Eastern, and the bogus "gurus" crowding round for the pickings, it is easy to sneer. But instead of laughing the Churches ought to be examining their consciences. 

Whose fault is it that so many have to resort to Tao or Zen in order to rediscover truths which were actually part of the Christian heritage right from the beginning? Who has hidden from them the fact that of all Oriental religions Christianity is the best and most complete; that mysticism is as necessary to humanity as science, if not more so? 

Intellectual research may be exciting, but it will not lead us to the secret of life. Nor will the truth be found through consumerism, though of course we must eat. 

(Roots of Christian Mysticism, Preface, p. 7)

Fr. Schmemann always liked to quote I Peter 4:17, "For the time has come for judgment to begin with the household of God." Barreau then unapologetically makes a short but compelling case for the deeper truths of our human nature only revealed in their fulness through the Christian revelation:

The human being is a craftsman - faber - and rational - sapiens - qualities which we share with the higher animals (the difference between us being one of degree and not of kind), but more importantly than that, we are mystical. In other words our roots are in fact religious and artistic, and therefore non-rational, or rather supra-rational. As soon as our material needs are satisfied, deeper needs assert themselves. 

It is now twenty centuries since Jesus declared that 'man does not live by bread alone,' and we know today that not even the most effective psychoanalytical treatment can cure us of a deep sense of disquiet within us. There is not a superman or revolutionary who is not beset by unappeased desires. The Fathers of the Christian Church, for whom prayer was as natural as breathing, discovered this truth before we did, saying, 'Birds fly, fishes swim and man prays.' ... For mysticism is an existential attitude, a way of living at a greater depth. (p. 7-8)

Olivier Clement himself begins his Introduction with equally challenging and compelling thought:

"Not only is Christianity something strange to people today, but it cannot even attract by its strangeness, because people are familiar with the distortions and caricatures of it which are constantly being hawked about." (p. 9)

I find that statement by Clement to ring loud and clear in today's contemporary climate here in America. For the simple reason that so many "distortions and caricatures" of genuine Christianity are obscuring the real thing.

How can we expect our "younger generation" to be even slightly attracted to the current politicized, moralizing and, frankly, judgmental Christianity that is loudly proclaiming itself? Christianity is being used to support one's political party or platform in order to bolster this or that party or platform with a kind of divine mandate or blessing, without taking into account the relative truths mingled with dubious truths in any party or platform today.

There is a good deal of talk about God and Jesus, but there is no real theological depth or Christ-centered spirituality that lifts our minds and hearts above the mundane concerns of what essentially becomes an ideology. The thirst spoken of by Jean-Claude Barreau and the genuine Christianity alluded to by Clement - and powerfully expressed by the Fathers of the Church in their mystical writings - are neglected as many Christians are content with the Gospel serving a given ideology, rather than each and every ideology being assessed by the truth of the Gospel. I would even say that the ultimate "sell-out" is found right here when the Truth of Christ is distorted, truncated or manipulated to serve an end other than the fulness of the Kingdom of God as proclaimed by Christ. Many young people can intuitively see right through this. And then their "religion" can become anything but God - from science to nihilism. There is thus plenty of blame to go around when our churches become devoid of "young people."

Now is the time to remain as vigilant as possible. We need to manifest a genuinely theological, mystical, liturgical, charitable and honest Christianity and leave the rest up to God and human self-determination.

Christmas and Martyrdom

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

CHRIST IS BORN!
GLORIFY HIM!

The Gospel reading for the Great Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord is Matthew 2:1-12.  This passage proclaims the Good News that the Savior was born in Bethlehem according to the biblical prophecies.

The star guides the Magi and they, in turn, bring their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to the newborn Child in acknowledgment that He is unique and a true King, testified to by cosmic signs that even the Gentile Magi can properly interpret.  Joyous as this is, there is already a hint of the ultimate destiny of Christ in that myrrh is used in the burial customs of the Jews.

On the Second Day of the Nativity, we complete the reading of the second chapter of Saint Matthew’s Gospel—2:13-23, which immediately introduces us to the tragic reality of the massacre of the innocent boys in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or younger.  The previous joy of the Savior’s Nativity is replaced by the wailing and lamentation of the mothers of these innocent children, in fulfillment of the prophecy of Jeremiah:

“A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more” [Jeremiah 2:18].

The shadow of the Cross lay across the infancy narratives in this Gospel, for in the immediate post-Nativity period, these male children become the first of many martyrs who must die because Christ has entered the world, as many of the powerful of this world—following the dark example of King Herod—will not receive Him; they will actually despise Him and turn against His followers.  Thus, the suffering of innocent children is somehow taken up by God as an offering in a sinful world that fluctuates between light and darkness.  

And we must acknowledge that the suffering of innocent children continues to the present time - a suffering directly caused by human wickedness. We now understand that the cave of the Nativity anticipated the tomb of Christ’s burial, and that the swaddling clothes anticipated the grave clothes with which Christ would eventually be bound following His death on the Cross.

On the Third Day of the Nativity - and on the Sunday After Nativity - we commemorate the Protomartyr Stephen, the first to die for his faith in Christ in the post-Resurrection community of the newborn Church.  St. Stephen's lengthy speech to his fellow Jews, in which he upbraided them for their lack of faith; and in which he proclaimed Jesus as the Risen and Ascended Christ is recorded in ACTS 7.  His brutal martyrdom by stoning followed as his testimony resulted in a furious and deadly rejection of his convicting words. In fact, "they gnashed their teeth against him" (ACTS 7:54).

Martyrdom has always been a distinct and powerful witness to Christ.  Actually, “from the beginning” the Incarnation and Martyrdom are inextricably joined together in a world torn by the tension between darkness and light.  To our great joy, we know "that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it" (JN. 1:5).  

The kontakion for the Feast of Saint Stephen captures the movement between the joy of Christ’s birth and the sobering reality of what Christ’s coming meant for some:

Yesterday the Master assumed our flesh and became our guest; Today His servant is stoned to death and departs in the flesh: The glorious first martyr Stephen!

There is no greater witness to Christ than that of the martyrs—flesh and blood men, women and children who gave their lives for the Lord in the sure hope and assurance that eternal life awaited them in the Kingdom of God. 

If we exchange a “Merry Christmas” with others, we always need to be mindful of the commitment we are making to the newborn Christ.  As we temporarily indulge in the days of the Feast, we realize that the Christian life is ultimately a commitment to discipline and restraint, even the “crucifixion” of the flesh with all of its desires, in order to “witness” to Christ as disciples who believe that His advent in the flesh, culminating in His death and resurrection, has prepared a place for us in His eternal Kingdom where there is “life everlasting.”

The Place of the Cross - in the Church, and in our Lives

Dear Parish Faithful,

 

 

The current Feast of the Elevation/Exaltation of the Cross allows us to go a long way in dispelling a stereotype that has developed concerning the Orthodox Church. This stereotype claims that the Orthodox Church is the Church of the Resurrection and/or Transfiguration of Christ at the expense of the Cross. 

 

Upon a closer and more balanced examination, this claim loses credibility. The Cross has a central and abiding place within the Orthodox Tradition - theological, spiritual, liturgical, iconographic, and more. For the sake of brevity, the terse expression of St. Gregory Palamas (+1359), synthesizes more than a millennium of the patristic tradition of the Christian East, when he declared in one of his homilies: “The Lord’s Cross discloses the entire dispensation of His coming in the flesh, and contains within it the whole mystery of this dispensation.”

Liturgically, the focus on the Cross can hardly be described as minimal. Great and Holy Friday is at the very heart of the Church’s liturgical tradition, when concentration on the Savior’s death on the Cross is treated with the greatest of solemnity and pathos. The crucified, dead and buried Master is surrounded by the faithful in a series of services that are emotionally intense and theologically rich in expression. This day serves as the prototype of every Friday (and actually every Wednesday) within the Church’s liturgical tradition when the Cross is the “theme” of those days, reflected in the hymnography of the day. That connection is strengthened accordingly by designating Wednesdays and Fridays as “fasting days.” The Cross and fasting have been linked together from the very earliest days of the Church’s history. To this day, practicing Orthodox Christians are expected to fast on those days as an expression of honoring and calling to remembrance the Cross of the Lord.

The current Feast of the Cross – one of the Twelve major fixed Feasts of the liturgical year - is one among others that again will focus our attention on the Cross throughout the year. The mid-point of Great Lent, the third Sunday, is called the Sunday of the Veneration of the Cross. As on this current Feast, the Cross is decorated with flowers, brought into the center of the church by means of a solemn procession, and then venerated with the same hymn – “Before Thy Cross, we bow down and worship, O Master; and Thy holy Resurrection, we glorify” - accompanied by prostrations. At the end of the service the faithful approach and kiss the ‘life-giving wood” of the Tree of the Cross. Another feast on August 1, though not as observed, is called the “Procession of the Cross.” Neglected or not, the same rite of procession and veneration is prescribed for this feast as for the other two we are describing here.

Another practice, which comes to the Orthodox so naturally, but may strike the outside observer as strange, is that at the end of the Divine Liturgy all of the faithful approach the bishop or priest, and reverently kiss the hand-held Cross that is presented to them. (I am unaware of this practice outside of the Orthodox Tradition, but I could simply be ignorant about this). Each person then receives a piece of “blessed bread” – the antidoron in the Gk. – before leaving the church. Again, for someone raised from childhood in the Orthodox Church this is so natural that it remains indelible in the minds of those who grew up Orthodox even if they leave the Church at some point in time. The point here is that it is one more clear expression of the over-all role of the Cross within the life of the Church. Our last gesture before departing from the Church back to our daily lives is venerating the Cross and committing ourselves in the process of remaining loyal to Christ crucified.

Of course, “making” the sign of the Cross over oneself is another perfectly natural practice for Orthodox Christians – and shared by other Christian traditions, as this is one more practice that can traced back into Christian antiquity. In fact, it is about as natural as breathing! The reason behind this practice is clear yet profound. As I have written elsewhere: The Church and our personal lives are placed under the sign of the Cross, both as an emblem of victory and of our willingness to bear our personal crosses in our daily struggles against sin, temptation, the devil, and all manner of evil. Throughout the entire Liturgy, whenever we glorify God, we make the sign of the Cross over ourselves, revealing our faith in Christ, the “Lord of Glory” (I COR. 2:8) crucified for our sakes according to the will of the Father and “through the eternal Spirit.” (HEB. 9:14)

Non-Orthodox Christians who visit an Orthodox Church, and who may be aware of this practice, will still comment on the frequency with which Orthodox believers will make the sign of the Cross over themselves during the services. Of course, the naturalness of this act should never take away from the concentration and care that needs to accompany this outward sign if it is to have any meaning.

Perhaps we should finally mention the fact that most Orthodox Christians wear a cross. This is not meant to be one more piece of “matching jewelry” or displayed in an ostentatious fashion. Rather it is a humble practice of again recognizing the place of the Cross in the divine dispensation and in our personal salvation. It also implies the “self-denial” that we need to practice as true disciples of Christ. (The next meditation will explore this theme in more detail).

Reflecting upon this summary of the place of the Cross in the life of the Church and in our personal lives, one may not only come to the conclusion that the Orthodox do not neglect the Cross, but that their devotion to the Cross may be a bit excessive! But that is hardly the case. What needs to be remembered is that a holistic approach to the Christian Faith combines the “outward” and the “inward.” Feast Days, processions, prostrations, veneration, signings, etc. are the outward manifestations of the Church’s inner vision of the literally cosmic and then deeply personal dimensions of the Cross. This vision based on faith, is then proclaimed to the world in a variety of ways, each of which tries to capture something of the greatness of God’s love revealed in the Cross. For the Cross is the “mystery” of God’s will for the world and its salvation. (cf. EPH. 1:3-10) For the Cross is believed to be “breadth and length and height and depth” of “the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God” (EPH. 3:18-19).

The 'Apostles to the Apostles'

Dear Parish Faithful,


CHRIST IS RISEN! 
INDEED HE IS RISEN!

We are in the week of the Myrrh-bearing Women, as we extend last Sunday's commemoration of these extraordinary women throughout the entirety of this week. At all the Vespers and Matins services for this week, the Church will sing and chant primarily about the myrrh bearing women and their role as apostolic witnesses, implying their role as "apostles to the apostles." 

Their eyewitness testimony of both the empty tomb and the Risen Lord continues to amaze me, and I can only imagine the excitement and intense response with which this testimony must have been greeted when they shared their experience with the other members of the earliest Christian communities. Their timeless witness is with us until "the end of the world." As the New Testament scholar, Richard Baukham writes:

"These women, I think we can say, acted as apostolic eyewitness guarantors of the traditions about Jesus, especially his resurrection but no doubt also in other respects. As we have seen, that their witness acquires textual form in the Gospels implies that it can never have been regarded as superseded or unimportant. For as long as these women were alive their witness, 'We have seen the Lord,' carried the authority of those the Lord himself commissioned to witness to his resurrection.... 

"They were well-known figures and there were a large number of them. They surely continued to be active traditioners whose recognized eyewitness authority could act as a touchstone to guarantee the traditions as others relayed them and to protect the traditions from inauthentic developments." (Gospel Women, p. 295)

If "fear and trembling seized them" when they departed from the empty tomb (MK 16:8), perhaps in our more focused moments we, too, can experience that same "fear and trembling" when we again read or listen to St. Mark's account in the Gospel.

There is something unforgettable and awe-inspiring about that ever-memorable morning when the sun was just rising and the stone to the tomb had been rolled away; followed then by the appearance of the "young man" dressed in "white robes" announcing:

"Do not be amazed; you seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen, he is not here; see the place where they laid him." (MK. 16:8). 

The angel understood their amazement, because the women sensed the numinous presence of God filling that empty tomb with an other-worldly reality. Their own disorientation at this unexpected turn of events when they left the tomb is probably behind their initial silence. (This does not mean that the women failed to fulfill the command of the angel to tell the disciples that they would see Jesus in Galilee. It probably means that they did not share this news with others until the time the risen Christ appeared to His disciples confirming the proclamation of the angel that He had indeed risen).

We, in turn, have to always guard against over-familiarity dulling our response to the Good News of Christ's Resurrection from the dead. This is not a message to be nonchalant about! The Resurrection has changed the world and certainly change the lives of Christian believers. And we, too, are "witnesses of these things" (Lk 24:48).

The role of the Myrrh-bearing Women has always been treated with great respect and recognition within the Church. In one of our most beloved paschal hymns, "Let God Arise," two of the stanzas are dedicated to the myrrh-bearers and their witness. These hymns build upon the scriptural accounts of their visit to and discovery of the empty tomb, poetically developing those terse scriptural verses in a more embellished manner that weaves together a host of scriptural messianic images together with the Gospel accounts:

Come from that scene, O women,
bearers of glad tidings,
And say to Zion:
Receive from us the glad tidings of joy,
of Christ's resurrection.
Exult and be glad,
And rejoice, O Jerusalem,
Seeing Christ the King,
Who comes forth from the tomb like a
bridegroom in procession.

The myrrh-bearing women,
At the break of dawn,
Drew near to the tomb of the
Life-giver.
There they found an angel sitting upon
the stone.
He greeted them with these words:
Why do you seek the living among the
dead?
Why do you mourn the incorrupt amid
corruption?
Go, proclaim the glad tidings to His
disciples.

As an aside of sorts, when listening to Rimsky-Korsakov's "Russian Easter Overture," I always feel that he musically captures the excitement and energy of the myrrh-bearers discovering the empty tomb.

The myrrh-bearing women did not mysteriously disappear following the Resurrection of Christ.There were many of them, and we have the names or a reference to at least the following:

• Mary Magdalene, 
• Mary the mother of Joseph the Little and Jose, 
• Salome, 
• Mary of Clopas, 
• Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus, 
• Susanna, 
• and the mother of the sons of Zebedee. 

And, of course, the "mother of Jesus," as she is referred to by the Evangelist John (19:25), was at the foot of the Cross. They must have shared their experience innumerable times, and their credibility is what lies behind their inclusion in the Gospels. They must have therefore been very prominent figures in the apostolic era of the Church.

I would again stress their presence in the liturgical services of Pascha. Their presence permeates these services as the empty tomb is always an object of pious and reverential celebration:

Before the dawn, Mary and the women came
and found the stone rolled away from the tomb.
They heard the angelic voice: "Why do you
seek among the dead as a man the one who is
everlasting light? Behold the clothes in the grave.
Go and proclaim to the world: The Lord is risen.
He has slain death, as He is the Son of God, saving
the race of men." (Hypakoe)

To again include a fine summary by the New Testament scholar, Richard Baukham:

"As prominent members of the early communities, probably traveling around the communities, they were doubtless active in telling the stories themselves. They may not usually like the male apostles, have done so in public contexts, because of the social restrictions on women in public space. But this is no reason to deny them the role of authoritative apostolic witnesses and shapers of Gospel traditions, since there need not have been such restrictions in Christian meetings and since they could witness even to outsiders in women-only contexts such as the women's quarters of houses." (Gospel Women, p. 302-303)

Jesus turned things upside down by proclaiming joy to the world through the Cross. Overcoming social prejudices, He raised to great prominence these humble women who would otherwise be unknown to the world. He granted them an integral role in proclaiming the Good News to the world that the sting of death has been overcome through His rising from the dead. As long as the Gospel is proclaimed, we will venerate and celebrate the memory of the Myrrh-bearing Women and rejoice with them.

Becoming Witnesses of the Resurrection

Dear Parish Faithful,


CHRIST IS RISEN!
INDEED HE IS RISEN!

"And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour." MK. 15:33)

"And very early on the first day of the week they went to the tomb when the sun had risen." (MK. 16:2)

St. Mark the Evangelist is rather precise when he narrates that the Lord was crucified at the third hour (MK 15:25); that darkness fell over the land at the sixth hour (15:33); and that Christ died at the ninth hour (MK 15:34). According to the Jewish reckoning of time, that would mean that the Lord hung upon the Cross from about 9:00 a.m. (the "third hour") until 3:00 p.m. (the "ninth hour") on that first "Holy Friday." For the last three hours, then, "there was darkness over the whole land." 

This is not a weather report from the Evangelist. Rather, this unexpected darkness was in fulfillment of the prophecy of Amos (read as the OT reading at the Sixth Hour on Holy and Great Friday) that was a "sign" of great significance for the early Church as it began to reflect upon the "scandal" of the Cross:

"And on that day," says the Lord God, "I will make the sun go down at noon, and darken the earth in broad daylight. I will turn your feasts into mourning and all of your songs into lamentation; I will bring sackcloth upon all loins, and baldness on every head; I will make it like the mourning for an only son, and the end of it like a bitter day." (AMOS 8:9-10)

The fulfillment of this prophecy revealed the cosmic dimension and significance of the Lord's death on the Cross: all of creation mourned the death of the Son of God. Truly this was an awesome mystery! Yet, while at the time of the Crucifixion this very darkness may have intensified the solemnity of the Lord's death, it also intensified the starkness of Christ dying on the Cross seemingly abandoned by all, including His heavenly Father:

And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, "E'lo-i, E'lo-i, la'ma sabach-tha'ni?" which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (MK 15:34)

Again, the impression is that there was no one with Jesus in his hours of darkness upon the Cross. Yet, at the very moment of His death and seeming abandonment, St. Mark narrates that a Gentile centurion was the first to realize that this was not the case:

And when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that he thus breathed his last, he said, "Truly this man was the Son of God!" (MK 15:39)

In addition, there was actually a silent presence of deeply sympathetic figures within some proximity of the Cross that St. Mark accounts for:

There were also women looking on from afar, among whom were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salo'me, who, when he was in Galilee, followed him, and ministered to him; and also many other women who came up with him to Jerusalem. (MK 15:40-41)

Their role was of further great importance, for their vigilance allowed them to know where the tomb of the Lord was located:

Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid. (MK 15:47)

The presence of these faithful female disciples of the Lord - the women we now know and venerate as the Myrrhbearers - prepares us for the awesome revelation that will occur "very early on the first day of the week." (MK 16:2) The account of the discovery of the empty tomb; the angelic proclamation of the Resurrection of Jesus to the women by the angel in the tomb; and the astonishment of the women is narrated in a rather succinct manner by St. Mark in only eight verses (MK. 16:1-8). 

When the myrrhbearing women arrived at the tomb carrying their spices in the hopes of anointing the dead body of Jesus, the darkness that will soon be lifted from their hearts was already being dispelled by another sign from the world of nature, for the women arrived "when the sun had risen" (MK 16:2). The cosmos had mourned the death of the Son of God; but it will now rejoice by "announcing" the Resurrection of the Sun of Righteousness. 

The movement from darkness to light is a powerful motif throughout the Gospels. The darkness may represent sin or the final horror of death. Jesus is the very presence of light, and that light is so strong that neither sin nor death can resist its strength. This is not simply a literary "symbol," but a living reality. St. Mark then narrates that the women "were amazed" when, upon "entering the tomb they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe" (MK 16:5). This "young man" was clearly an angel. And it is this angelic being who will first announce the Resurrection of Christ with a definitive clarity that cannot be misunderstood:

"Do not be amazed; you seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen, he is not here; see the place where they laid him." (MK 16:6)

The Jesus who had been crucified is the Jesus who was now raised from the dead. The risen Jesus is neither a "ghost" nor a "spirit." The Crucified One is now the Risen Lord - Jesus the Christ and King of Israel. The Father had not abandoned His Son; but rather vindicated the One whose resurrection will now be announced to the disciples/apostles, and through them to the whole world. As the biblical scholar, Francis Moloney has written:

The question asked of God by Jesus from the cross, "My God, my God why have you forsaken me?" (MK 15:34) has been answered. Jesus has not been forsaken. Unconditionally obedient to the will of God (see MK 14:36), Jesus has accepted the cup of suffering. On the cross he is Messiah, King of Israel, and Son of God (see MK 15:32, 39). God's never-failing presence to his obedient Son leads to the definitive action of God: He has been raised! The apparent failure of Jesus has been reversed by the action of God, who has raised Jesus from death. (The Death of the Messiah, p. 11).

St. Mark - and the other evangelists - recorded the events of that first and glorious Easter morning. The evangelists have preserved for us this precious - and exciting - eyewitness testimony of the myrrh bearing women to the empty tomb and the Resurrection of Christ. We accept their testimony and proclaim the same "Good News" to the world today through the Church. And we invite others to share that life - including "harlots and tax-collectors."

Yet, like the myrrhbearing women, we need to experience the Resurrection on a deep and personal level.  In and through faith, the "stone" that covers the entrance to our own hearts can be "rolled away" by the grace of God, and a new dawn can pierce the darkness of sin and death that leaves us as if living an entombed life hidden from the light.

This is the work of God. When the Resurrection of Christ is genuinely experienced in the very depths of our being, we may at first be silent because "trembling and astonishment" lay hold of us. (MK. 16:8) But when we recover our voice we may then joyfully share with others - through our faith and our lives - that CHRIST IS RISEN!

The Saturday Evening Great Vespers and Christian Martyria

Dear Parish Faithful,

As our usual pattern of over-all poor parish attendance at Great Vespers on Saturday evenings is once again the norm with the coming of Summer, I wanted to re-issue a short meditation about this service that I wrote after a visit by His Grace, Bishop Paul, and his comments about the positive nature of this service and our Christian martyria. Whether anything changes or not, I believe that many of you are missing something important in our parish life, and should at least give it some consideration. The "invitation" to the service comes, ultimately, from God: "Come, let us worship and fall down before Christ ..." is the first hymn that we sing at Great Vespers. Since we would consider any other Saturday evening invitation with great care and attention - and probably accept it - we may want to think of applying that same care and attention to the things of God.

The Saturday Evening Great Vespers and Christian Martyria

Continuing a series of short meditations based upon Bp. Paul's talk on the content and shape of a contemporary Christian martyria (meaning witness), I would like to apply it to the Saturday evening service of Great Vespers.

Actually, the first topic that Bp. Paul addressed to those of us present last Saturday evening following the service, was the missionary content of the Great Vespers service, a real point of contact and a potential source of  appeal to an inquirer or non-Orthodox visitor to the church.

In fact, His Grace shared his opinion that Great Vespers is the best introductory service to such an inquirer/visitor.  Its compactness has something to do with this, but he stressed primarily the content of the service.  This service proclaims the Gospel - it is "evangelical" - because it proclaims the Crucified and Risen Lord. This could be an element of strong appeal to a visitor hungering for the truth of the Gospel.

However, first and foremost, the service of Great Vespers on Saturday evening is for the members of the Church! 

Saturday evening Great Vespers is a splendid proclamation of the Death and Resurrection of Christ at the heart of the service.  Meaning that in addition to the basic structure of the service which remains the same, the hymnography (called stichera and aposticha) is devoted to glorifying the Crucified and Risen Lord.

Great Vespers not only prepares us for the Lord's Day on Sunday - the Day of Resurrection in our weekly liturgical cycle - but we actually enter into the Lord's Day at the service on Saturday evening. As it is written in the Scriptures:  "And there was evening and there was morning, a second day" (GEN. 1:8).  Liturgically, therefore, Sunday begins during the service on Saturday evening, following the biblical reckoning of time. Returning to the theme of the Death and Resurrection of Christ, a random selection from the eight tones will eloquently make the point:

We stand before Thy life-bearing tomb unworthily, O Christ God,
Offering glory to Thine unspeakable tenderness of heart.
Thou hast accepted the cross and death, O sinless One,
To grant resurrection to the world, as the Lover of man.

Saturday Vespers, Stichera, Tone 1 

Descending from heaven to ascend  the cross,
The eternal Life has come for death -
To raise those who have fallen;
To enlighten those in darkness!
O Jesus, our Savior and Illuminator, glory to Thee!

Saturday Vespers, Aposticha, Tone 8

As one of the expressions of an Orthodox Christian martyria in the contemporary world mentioned by Bp. Paul, we can leave the cares and attractions surrounding us, enter into the prayerful atmosphere of the church, and praise the Crucified and Risen Lord on Saturday evening as we prepare for the Lord's Day. At least, with some kind of pattern or regularity. This is our witness that the life of the Church comes first in our lives.

Certainly this is a "little cross!"  And it should be a "joyous cross" that we assume lightly and gladly.  We are, after all, according to St. John the Evangelist, "children of God!"

I am not trying to twist anyone's arm, and I do not work through "guilting" anyone into anything.  I am simply trying to raise parish awareness of an integral part of our parish life and the liturgical cycle at the heart of our communal worship. And I have been doing this for years. In this way, we can grow beyond the usual (and to this day relatively small) "Vespers crowd" as our personal and communal martyria to the secular world's indifference toward Christ.  My appeal is to make the martyria concrete and practical in its effect. I believe this was Bp. Paul's point.

Plan on coming to a Great Vespers service in the near future, and let that be a beginning, a starting point for expanding your participation in the liturgical life of the Church by integrating the Lord's Day cycle into your life as an event to be anticipated and embraced with regularity.  Allow the Bible Study, the great Feasts and Saturday evening Great Vespers to assume a place in your lives that manifests the modest Christian martyria that nevertheless reveals a great deal about our life in the Church.