| His Beatitude Metropolitan Jonah comments on results of meeting of Orthodox Church in America Holy Synod of Bishops Moscow, March 1, 2011 The Holy Synod of Bishops of the Orthodox Church in America, led by its Primate, His Beatitude Jonah, Archbishop of Washington and Metropolitan of All America and Canada, met for a pre-Lenten retreat from February 22-24, 2011, at Santa Fe, New Mexico. During the retreat it was agreed to grant His Beatitude Jonah’s request for a period of 60 days as a time ‘for a personal retreat and spiritual renewal’. Archbishop Nathaniel of Detroit was charged with temporary administration of the Orthodox Church in America. The Holy Synod also accepted the resignation of Archpriest Alexander Garklavs as Chancellor of the Orthodox Church in America and appointed Bishop Melchisedek of Pittsburgh as interim Chancellor. On February 27, 2011, the Sunday of the Last Judgment, His Beatitude Jonah celebrated the Divine Liturgy at St. Nicholas’s in Washington, after which he made the following comments on the above-mentioned decisions of the Holy Synod: “As many of you know, in line with the longstanding tradition in the church of an intensified prayer life during Lent, I as a diocesan bishop, requested from my brothers on the Holy Synod to set aside a period of time for myself during the Great Fast to spend in personal reflection and renewal… Since my becoming Metropolitan, this will be the first extended period of rest that I have taken in quite some time. I am extremely grateful to my brothers for granting me this request, and for taking on the burden of added responsibility to their already busy schedules: Bishop Tikhon is now the locum tenens of the Diocese of the Midwest, and Bishop Nikon is now the locum tenens of the Diocese of the South. I had intended, and still plan on doing so, to rest as much as possible during the Great Fast, spending time with loved ones and celebrating and attending the Divine Services at my Primatial Cathedral of St Nicholas in Washington. |
| Homily of Archimandrite Markell (Pavuk), spiritual father of the Kiev Theological Schools. When we sin in secret, we think that no one will know about it and somehow everything will work out. But in the third preparatory week for Lent, the Church reminds us that there will be a Last Judgment, where it will be revealed who we really are, and everyone will be punished for their sins. The Gospel does not list the sins for which we will be condemned to torment in hell, but only indicates specific actions. The Lord will watch whether we fed the hungry, gave water to the thirsty, dressed the poor, visited the sick, or comforted a prisoner. Whoever did this, they served Christ Himself and inherited the Kingdom of God, and whoever neglected this, they will be condemned to eternal torment. So why, then, did the Church establish fasts, institute long services, or confession of sins? Perhaps all of this is not necessary, and the most important thing, as atheists and Protestants say, is to be a good person and not to each other, instead of not eating meat? However, this cannot be true, because we know that Christ Himself fasted in the desert for 40 days and told us how to fast properly (see Matthew 4:2; Matthew 6:16–18; Luke 18:12 and others). For a long time He loved to spend time in the mountains in prayer, and also gave authority to the apostles to forgive sins by the power of the grace of the Holy Spirit. Based on this, it becomes clear that all of the above is a means by which we can get rid of our egoism, overcome our deception, and most importantly, become merciful. Without these means, we, of course, are able to perform individual good deeds, because in the nature of each person the Creator laid the desire for good, but without the grace of God these good actions are basically selfish: you give something to me, and I give something to you. Therefore, a person cannot selflessly, with all their soul, love God and their neighbors. And we see how many families are now breaking up precisely because people do not know how to truly love each other. |
| In the Name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen Today is the Twenty Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, and on this day we read about the Greatest Commandment and the story of the Good Samaritan. Last Sunday, we talked about two miracles, where the woman was healed from an issue of blood, and the daughter of Jairus was raised, and they both had a relationship to one another. Today, we have two teachings, set parallel to one another, like two plots in a story. One has an outward and moral aspect, concerning how we should act as Christians, being compassionate, and who is our neighbor. We know the answer to that. Everyone is our neighbor. We just need to be reminded of that sometimes. There is also a mystical and internal story here that is right alongside this important teaching about being compassionate. What gives us the power, the ability, to act with compassion? What gives us the ability to live the Christian life? Of course, we know, it is only God’s grace, but what did He do? How did He give us this ability, and this power? We can see it in this story, when we look at the mystical meaning that the Fathers have elucidated. We can see also what the meaning of Christianity is, and the purpose and activity of the church. There is a great promise in this story as well, and I believe … I know – a great source of hope for us “And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” A lawyer was a Jew who studied and interpreted the law. He was not like we understand lawyers to be today. They should have been men of character and high moral standing. Many of them were, but too many were not. This lawyer was like the people Jesus referred to when He said: “But woe unto you, Pharisees! for ye tithe mint and rue and all manner of herbs, and pass over judgment and the love of God: these ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.” If you know this passage, from St. Luke’s gospel, a sentence or so later, a lawyer told Jesus He was judging them too, and Our Lord said ‘yes, indeed’. |
| " It " s Just Another Day For You and Me In Paradise " Our Faith : Fasting Last Updated: Feb 8th, 2011 - 05:50:02 " It " s Just Another Day For You and Me In Paradise " By Fr. Andrew Barakos Nov 15, 2010, 10:00 Discuss this article Printer friendly page Source: Assumption Greek Orthodox Church I " ll never forget what I heard one cold winter day on the radio while attending seminary over twenty years ago. . . A man was found frozen to death this morning just outside Fenway Park. Perhaps, loneliness and indifference are the greatest of sins that plague our present time. Years later, a popular song spoke of this indifference, " Think twice . . . It " s just another day for you and me in Paradise. " For Christians, our " Paradise " is not found in life " s comforts but in spirit and truth. Paradise is the person, Jesus Christ and His living in and among us. We are living in " Paradise " through our life as members of the body of Christ - as His Church on earth. The image of a person dying alone while being in the presence of thousands of people with no one seeing him reminds us of our Lord " s teaching in Matthew 25 on judgment when He returns. In Matthew " s 25, Christ identifies Himself with the " poorest of the poor, " the stranger, the naked, the hungry, the imprisoned, the thirsty, the lonely, and the stranger. In Christ, God became the stranger . . . no one knew who he really was. God became the one who hungered . . . He hungered for our love and was not satisfied. God became imprisoned . . . as the un-containable God He assumed a Human body. God became naked . . . He made Himself unashamed to be with sinful humanity. The conclusion drawn from Matthew 25 is that, " ...it was God who was receiving through the poor (St. John Chrysostom). " Our divine and compassionate Father identifies the afflictions of His children as being His very own. In all cases, the " who? " is God, the One Who created us after His image and likeness. As we approach the birth of Christ, the Church invites us to prepare by fasting and prayer because we must have the eyes to see Christ not only in the manger but also in one another and especially in the " poorest of the poor. " As we fill our calendars with holiday activities, the Church seeks to anchor our faith and focus by offering thirteen liturgies in the month of December. Feasting for us as Orthodox is expressed as an experience of communion in fellowship with others it is never a license to engage in self-indulgence. By remaining anchored in prayer and fasting our feasting is always Spirit filled. The experience of the Eucharist provides the model of a heavenly feast offered by Christ that makes us partakers of the one cup and unites us to one another. This experience opens our eyes of faith and allows us to see Christ in everyone. |
| I Look for the Resurrection of the Dead Human death is one of those experiences that we prefer to avoid if at all possible. We have been conditioned to avoid the discussion of death even with the dying! We shun looking at the dead in their natural state before the mortician’s art has done all that is possible to make the dead resemble the living. Even in death, we prefer to hold celebrations of life rather than confront the harsh reality of our earthly existence coming to a halting end. While this is a common approach in modern society, it doesn’t reflect the beliefs we profess in the Creed. Death is painful. It hurts and it hurts deeply. Is there a greater personal sadness than the death of a mother, a father, a son, a daughter, a brother, a sister, a bosom friend, or a spouse? At such moments, don’t the words of Saint John of Damascus ring especially true, “What earthly sweetness remains unmixed with grief? All things are but shadows, most feeble, but most deluding dreams: yet one moment only and death shall supplant them all”? It is hard to look at death, and yet this article of the Creed—“I look for the resurrection of the dead”—enables us to do so, softening our inconsolable sadness into a patient hopefulness through the light of Christ’s countenance and the sweetness of His beauty, as the Saint concludes the selfsame hymn. The Last Judgment, The verb in this article, to look for, (προσοδ) can also be rendered as “I expect,” which is in turn composed of the prefix (πρς) for movement towards something and another verb (δοκω) meaning to accept graciously. Hence, in this article, it is as though we are saying that we expect the resurrection of the dead, moving towards it and welcoming it with all our heart. This expectation should have a blessed influence on our lives. After all, expectations about the future are known to affect thought, emotion, and behavior in the present especially when there is expectation of a concrete goal of value in the future. In this case, it is the resurrection of the dead unto life with Christ, which has an infinite value and which according to expectancy theory should be infinitely motivating. |
| Louai Beshara/AFP Editor’s Note: this sermon was given by Fr. Gabriel last week, when the Orthodox Church celebrated the Sunday of the Veneration of the Cross. “Let all the trees in the forest dance and sing, and behold their fellow tree, the Cross, today receiving veneration: For Christ, as the Holy Prophet David Prophesied, has exalted it on high!” Indeed all of creation is lifted up today with us as we reach this Mid-Point of Lent, because Orthodox Christians throughout the world are spending this weekend honoring a simple piece of wood, that comes to all of us at a time when we all so desperately need it! A few weeks ago, we then all put a Lenten plan into motion with the best intentions, trying to fulfill those words that we heard our Savior say in the Gospel this morning: “Whosoever desires to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me”. With the guidance of the Church, we looked for ways in our life to “deny ourselves”…to say “no” to ourselves and “yes” to God: “I’m going to watch more closely what I eat.” “I am going to double my prayer time at home.” “I have three spiritual books that I want to get through.” “I am going to guard my thoughts more closely and not get judgmental towards my co-workers or my family.” “I am going to make sure that I do not miss a single Lenten Service.” It usually isn’t long into the Fast that we realize how difficult this “ about face” towards the Cross is going to be! A little fasting…a little spiritual effort…a little disconnect from worldliness…and we quickly discover just how fallen we truly are! The mid-point is about the time where it feels like the more we say we are going to pray, the harder it becomes to pray. The more we say we are going to control our stomach, the hungrier we become! The more we say that we are going to increase our faith, the more doubts we have about everything! Brothers and Sisters in Christ, LENT IS HARD! Denying yourself and trying to live a life like Christ…is HARD! A wise monk recently told me something that I pray rings true for everyone here this morning. He said: “I never understand why they call it “Great Lent”, because I have never met a sincere Orthodox Christian who has ever had a “Great” Lent.” |
| Martyr Eudokia of Heliopolis Commemorated on March 1 Photo: Days.Pravoslavie.Ru Holy Monastic Martyr Eudokia was a Samaritan, a native of the city of Heliopolis in Phoenicia (modern Baalbek), who lived during the reign of Trajan (98-117). Her pagan impiety took her off the good path, and for a long time she led a sinful life. Her soul was deadened and her heart hardened. Eudokia awoke one night at midnight and heard singing from the house of a Christian woman next to hers. A monk was reading from a book which described the Last Judgment, the punishment of sinners, and the reward of the righteous. The grace of God touched Eudokia’s heart, and she grieved because of her great wealth and for her sinful life. In the morning Eudokia hastened to call on the man whose rule of prayer she heard the previous night. This was a monk named Germanus, returning from pilgrimage to the holy places to his own monastery. Eudokia listened for a long time to the guidance of the Elder, and her soul was filled with joy and love for Christ. She asked Germanus to stay in her home for a week, during which she secluded herself in her room, and spent her time in fasting and prayer. The Elder Germanus told her to give away her wealth and to forget her previous life. Eudokia received holy Baptism from Bishop Theodotus of Heliopolis. She entered a monastery and took upon herself very strict acts of penitence. The Lord granted forgiveness to the penitent sinner and endowed her with spiritual gifts. After she had become the head of the monastery, the young pagan Philostrates (one of her former lovers) heard of her conversion to Christ and longed to see her again. Aflame with impious passion, he came into the monastery in the guise of a monk and began to urge Eudokia to return to Heliopolis, and resume her former life. “May God rebuke you and not allow you to leave these premises,” Eudokia cried. Then the impostor fell down dead. Fearing that she had served as an accomplice to murder, the sisters intensified their prayer and besought the Lord to reveal to them His will. |
| Photo: SHUTTERSTOCK After my last blog post on the Great Reset , a reader asked an important question, and instead of responding only to her, I will share my response with everyone. This is what she wrote, she begins by quoting the end of my blog post: “‘If we are comfortable in the world then an economic reset or political upheaval will evoke fear and anger… But if this world is not our home. If we are but salt and light, sojourners in a strange land, then we will adjust. We will find a way. We will carry on, looking for a City whose foundations and builder is God.’ “I think to a certain extent we are all comfortable in the world. Our daily life is full of worldly tasks and concerns: work, finances, extracurricular activities, etc. Not that there is anything wrong with these tasks, but they do redirect the mind to our current life and the world cannot help but feel like home. We find comfort in the familiar and in the hope that our children have a future ahead of them. So how do we find a balance? How do we plan and live a life in the world without getting attached to the comfort that comes with this?” I think there are three things we can do to help us live as sojourners in this world. The first is to be thankful. This may sound like such a small thing, but actually it is huge. When we are always thankful, we are remembering that the world and the world’s system does not owe us. We are remembering that it is both God’s mercy and judgment that there is food on the table, that our children are relatively healthy, that we have a job, a home, or friends. None of these are guaranteed, and we will give an account to God for what we did or didn’t do with His blessings. When we forget to be thankful, we begin to think that it is the world and our place in the world that has brought about the relatively comfortable life we are experiencing. We begin to think that working for and fighting for a system, a government, a program is how we will make the world a better place or how we will keep the world from devolving into a worse place. When we forget to give thanks to God, God begins to feel distant to us; we start to think that maybe God doesn’t even care, that God doesn’t really matter that much. |
| Photo: St. Philaret of Moscow In the Missionary Letters of Saint Nikolai Velimirovich (Vol. 3) #254, St. Nikolai records a secret prayer of St. Philaret of Moscow (+1867), found among his papers after his repose. Many of us are already familiar with St. Philaret’s morning prayer: “O Lord, grant me to greet the coming day in peace…” This prayer touched me so much that for my last few years of teaching, I printed it and gave it to my students at the beginning of each semester and began every class by reciting it (which I could get away with because I was teaching at a Christian institution: Trinity Western University). Interestingly, my mostly Evangelical or agnostic students became so accustomed to the prayer that when I didn’t say it because I was in a hurry or distracted, they would sometimes ask me why I hadn’t said the prayer. Even Evangelicals and agnostics can appreciate liturgical consistency. The secret prayer of St. Phiaret goes like this: O Lord, I do not know what to ask of You. You only know what I need. You love me more than I am capable of loving myself. O Father, give Your servant that which I cannot even request. I dare ask for neither suffering nor blessing, but I stand before You with my heart open toward You. You see the needs which I do not know. Look upon me and act according to Your mercy. Chasten and heal, let me fall and get me up. I tremble and remain silent before Your holy will and before Your judgment which is beyond reach for me. I offer myself to You as a sacrifice. There is no desire in me except for the desire to fulfill Your will. Teach me to pray. You, Yourself pray in me! Amen. Notice how much this saint does not know. For me, the beginning of open-hearted prayer comes as I begin to know my ignorance in prayer. I don’t know what to pray. I don’t know what I need. And I most certainly don’t know what other people need. The God who knows everything, loves everyone, and can do whatever is necessary, this is the very God to whom I am speaking. God knows. What I can do is say amen. What I can do is open my heart to either suffering or blessing, falling or rising, chastening or healing. God knows. What I can do is offer myself as a sacrifice. Or at least, this is what I can pray to do. |
| Righteous Philaret the Merciful of Amnia in Asia Minor Commemorated on December 1 Righteous Philaret the Merciful, son of George and Anna, was raised in piety and the fear of God. He lived during the eighth century in the village of Amnia in the Paphlagonian district of Asia Minor. His wife, Theoseba, was from a rich and illustrious family, and they had three children: a son John, and daughters Hypatia and Evanthia. Philaret was a rich and illustrious dignitary, but he did not hoard his wealth. Knowing that many people suffered from poverty, he remembered the words of the Savior about the dread Last Judgment and about “these least ones” (Mt. 25:40); the Apostle Paul’s reminder that we will take nothing with us from this world (1 Tim 6:7); and the assertion of King David that the righteous would not be forsaken (Ps 36/37:25). Philaret, whose name means “lover of virtue,” was famed for his love for the poor. One day Ishmaelites [Arabs] attacked Paphlagonia, devastating the land and plundering the estate of Philaret. There remained only two oxen, a donkey, a cow with her calf, some beehives, and the house. But he also shared them with the poor. His wife reproached him for being heartless and unconcerned for his own family. Mildly, yet firmly he endured the reproaches of his wife and the jeers of his children. “I have hidden away riches and treasure,” he told his family, “so much that it would be enough for you to feed and clothe yourselves, even if you lived a hundred years without working.” The saint’s gifts always brought good to the recipient. Whoever received anything from him found that the gift would multiply, and that person would become rich. Knowing this, a certain man came to Saint Philaret asking for a calf so that he could start a herd. The cow missed its calf and began to bellow. Theoseba said to her husband, “You have no pity on us, you merciless man, but don’t you feel sorry for the cow? You have separated her from her calf.” The saint praised his wife, and agreed that it was not right to separate the cow and the calf. Therefore, he called the poor man to whom he had given the calf and told him to take the cow as well. |
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