by Fr. John Bockman

Around 1928, when I was in the second grade, a good part of the winter was spent constructing what I recall as a fantastic make-believe classroom post office so that we little ones could draw, write, and mail valentines to one another, have them posted, sorted, and finally delivered by one another to mailboxes just as we learned occurred in the regular postal service. I remember that the protracted activity was huge, exciting fun, especially when I took my turn as postmaster, collecting and disbursing play stamps and play money.

Even then, seventy years ago, Saint Valentine’s Day was a big event in the life of a child, but I don’t recollect that there was any commercialization of the holiday in our out-of-the-way town. No radio or TV there, no neon lights, hype, or advertising downtown that I can remember. Kids made their own valentines to send, usually had no money to buy them, and therefore the entire extended drawing, writing, mailing, posting, and delivery concept seems to me even now to have been a worthwhile educational experience.

Winter life in northern Idaho could be gloomy in those days — cloudy days, three to four feet of snow, ice, and miserable weather keeping kids indoors most of the time. Very few people operated automobiles — there was nowhere to go anyway — and most business transportation took place on sleighs. Besides, it was bitter cold, there were no school buses, and when you walked, as you had to, you risked frostbite. Children arrived at school crying from the severe wind and chill.

Today the weather is warmer, automobiles abound, and the holiday has grown into an exaggerated commercial frenzy, overcapitalizing on romantic love and on boy-girl relationships at an ever earlier age. It feeds the sentimentalism and excessive sexual awareness, even perhaps the promiscuity, that categorize modern American society. This direction of things has pretty much eliminated the “Saint” in “Saint Valentine’s Day,” and it is usually identified as simple “Valentines Day.”

Yes, Virginia, there was and is a real Saint Valentine who as an early Christian martyr, who has taken his place in the heavenly mansions prepared by the Savior for those who love Him. He lived in Rome and so long ago when persecutions racked the Church of Christ, that virtually nothing is known of his earthly life. He is said to have been the Bishop of Terni (Interamna) in Italy, which we can accept as accurate. The Orthodox Church recognizes Saint Valentine (Valentinus) as a hieromartyr and celebrates his name day on July 30. In the West his name day was celebrated on February 14, now Valentines Day, with or without religious significance. The word “valentine”, of course, denotes a card or letter expressing one’s love and affection for a person of the opposite sex, regardless of the quality of that love and affection. Sending a valentine may also involve flowers, candy, and other gifts.

Since Saint Valentine was a real person and a real martyr for the faith, the Orthodox Church recognizes at least two Saint Valentines (although they may be doublets): Saint Valentinus of Terni (Interamna) in Italy, bishop and hieromartyr, celebrated on July 30, and Saint Valentinus, an unidentified martyr, celebrated October 24. It should be noted that the Roman Catholic Church has lost confidence in the existence of hosts of early saints, including the great wonderworker, Saint Nicholas, and a few years ago decided to drop them from their official calendar. (This upset a lot of people.) Since the Saint Valentine’s lived and died during the Roman persecution of the second century, no details of their lives have come down to us. Although the Saint Valentine’s were western saints and not particularly popular in the east, “Valentine” is or was a fairly common name among the Russians. Orthodoxy has always recognized them as true martyrs for the Faith.

Nothing about these saints provides grounds for associating them with the romantic love expressed in cards and letters adorned with hearts and sent to loved ones on February 14, a widespread practice which now characterizes this holiday. It has been suggested that it is an aberration of a saint’s feast that originated either in some earlier pagan love ritual or, in later centuries, the observation that birds pair off around February 14, the saint’s western name day.

As Father Metalinos, who is a spokesman for the Church of Greece, is quoted in the Serbian newspaper Pravoslavije as saying, that the commercialized feast of Saint Valentine has invaded Greece as a “holy day of love” on February 14, and is regarded as a definitely unwelcome foreign import. The Romanian Archbishop Andrew reports in the same newspaper that the cult of Saint Valentine and the “festival of love” associated with his name, which is foreign to Romanian spirituality, is spreading in Romania, also as an unwelcome import.

Nevertheless, the memory of the real Saint Valentine deserves to be held in honor in recognition of the hieromartyr that he is. Given that his name has unfortunately also been conferred upon tokens and practices that are being abused by people today, it seems important that we attempt to discover some overriding element of spiritual truth in the legend about him that has come down to us.

Legends, we should understand first of all, are sometimes unjustifiably equated with untruths or very unlikely truths. The word, coming from Latin, simply means “that which is to be read.” Therefore, legends were originally found in books and records written some time after the actual events took place. Some legends probably contain some truth, others may be apocryphal and unverifiable, and still others are undoubtedly fabrications.

The Saint Valentine legend is one that strikes this writer as possessing at least a few grains of truth. It is easy to appreciate how the events described could have taken place. Valentinus, the hero of the legend, lived in the time of Claudius Caesar, Emperor of Rome in the second century A.D. Claudius had ordered the entire Roman population to worship twelve pagan gods, and made it a capital crime to associate with Christians. Since Valentinus would not stop practicing his faith, he was arrested and thrown into prison.

Roman prisons were not exactly like modern prisons. Prisoners often had some freedom. The jailer in this case recognized that Valentinus was an honorable man and a learned one too. Therefore he inquired of Valentinus if he would instruct his blind daughter, Julia, who was young and anxious to learn.

Valentine read stories of Rome to her and described the world of nature which surrounded her. We can be sure, too, that he told her about God. Julia began to see the world through the eyes of Valentinus and found spiritual comfort in his spiritual strength.

Julia wondered if God really hears our prayers, and Valentinus assured her that He does, provided it is for our greater spiritual good. She said she was now praying every morning and night that she might see everything that Valentinus had told her about the world. Then one day as they sat together praying, a brilliant light flashed in Valentinus’s cell. Julia shouted, “Valentinus, I can see! I can see!”.

On the eve of his martyrdom, Valentinus wrote a letter to his pupil, urging her to stay close to God in prayer. Without any further expression of affection he signed it, “From your Valentinus.”

Valentinus, the martyr, gave up his spirit the next day, February 14, 270 A.D., near the gate that was later named Porta Valentini (The Gate of Valentine). His relics were buried in what is now the Church of Praxedes in Rome.

Valentinus had written a letter to Julia committing her to Christ. In return, Julia herself is said to have planted a pink-blossomed almond tree near his resting place. Today the almond tree remains a symbol of abiding love and friendship, and the valentine remains a token of affection, love, and devotion.

The legend is charming, and it seems likely that as a good archpastor Saint Valentine would have been delighted to instruct a child in the faith and love of Christ. If the jailer really did bring his blind daughter to him for instruction, Saint Valentine would have taught her gladly in the tradition followed by all good teachers before and since.

Glory be to God for all good teachers of all times!

By. Fr. Hans Jacobse

This essay appeared on the Preachers Institute website.

I used to preach at the end of the Liturgy.

It was a pragmatic decision. A good portion of my congregation didn’t arrive until after the Gospel reading. The sloppy behavior was ingrained in parish life for decades and wasn’t likely to change soon no matter how strongly I exhorted them to arrive on time. Better to hear the teaching later then never at all I reasoned.

Did some people benefit from the arrangement? Probably. Did it implicitly encourage the sloppy behavior? Most likely. But short of a full-blown renewal in the parish, the late-comers were likely to keep on coming in late. What would they remember if I preached earlier? The announcements?

Since moving from a large parish to a mission parish I’ve changed my ways. The sermon is always after the Gospel reading. I used to think that the rubrics required it because the reading was fresh in the minds of my hearers. While this is true, I’m no longer convinced this is the primary reason. I see something new: The timing of the sermon vivifies – breaths life into – the Eucharistic half of the Liturgy.

First a word of explanation. I don’t believe the Gospel is a collection of moralisms or motivational lectures. For that reason the purpose of preaching is not finger wagging (although a sermon can contain reproof) or inspiration (although it can also inspire and encourage). I believe preaching has one function: To bring the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the hearer in the ways that he can understand and comprehend it, and in that understanding and comprehension to be transformed by it.

I believe that the Gospel is the Word of God through the words of the Apostle. The Apostle, the Scripture tells us, receives his Gospel from God. The rest of us receive the Word from the Apostle, which is to say Scripture.

And that Word of God that we hear through the words of the Apostle, is the same Word that spoke the creation into existence at the beginning. He speaks today in order to transform the minds and hearts of men.

It all boils down to this: When the Gospel is preached, Christ is revealed.

“Open the eyes of our understanding that our minds may be illumined by the light of your divine knowledge,”

reads the prayer before the Gospel reading (and all priests should read it).

“Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God,” Romans 10:17

wrote the Apostle Paul.

“Preach the word, be ready in season and out of season…” 2 Timothy 4:2

St. Paul exhorted Timothy.

This self-revelation of Christ to the hearer occurs irrespective of the will or desire of the preacher. It occurs only through the faithful preaching of the Gospel. If you teach what the Apostle taught, you are giving your hearer the Word that proceeds from the mouth of God.

I do not believe that the structure of the Liturgy is what vivifies it. We can study it over and over again and admire its poetry, theological comprehensiveness, thematic unity, aesthetic beauty — all the other elements that shape it, but in the end what gives it life is when the words of worship are heard and penetrate the mind and heart.

Studying is good and necessary, but fruitless if our ears don’t hear. Hearing the Gospel in other words, comes first. Stepping into Liturgy – into the true of worship of the God of proclaimed in the Scripture — is a necessarily derived from the first. The words of the Liturgy are truth, but its truth is only comprehended by first encountering Him who is Truth.

The timing of the sermon then draws on more than the simple practicality I presumed for so many years. The sermon takes place when it does because — in conjunction with the reading of the Gospel — it opens the door to concrete and existential communion at the table of the Christ who is revealed through the preaching just moments before. His presence vivifies the Liturgy, and His presence is invoked through the preaching.

How, then, should we preach? With bedrock simplicity. Teach your people what the Gospel says. Draw on practical experience only in ways that illustrate the one or two, or at most, three points you are drawing from the Gospel that day.

Do your homework. Study and pray. In fact, read next Sunday’s Gospel on the Monday before. That way you can ruminate on it all week.

Then, if you are faithful, you bring your people closer to Christ by bringing Christ closer to them.

© 2010, Preachers Institute. All rights reserved.

Christ Pantocrator

The following letter from an Orthodox nun to a troubled layman is a warm, sane and usable remedy for anyone troubled with doubts about the mercy and compassion of God.

Dear P.,

Christ is Risen!

I was glad you called this weekend and let me know how you are doing. It sounds like you have a pretty good case of Calvinist-Jansenist indigestion [1]: uncomfortable and debilitating, but not inevitably fatal. A lot of western converts to Orthodoxy—Americans, Germans, etc., suffer from this to one degree or another, especially early on in spiritual life. Our gerondissa at St. Paul’s calls it the Medieval Sickness, a combination of moralistic nitpicking, pride, secretiveness,lack of faith in God, and lack of belief in the compassion of God. It makes one pretty joyless, prone to ill-considered and short-lived bursts of ascetic effort (often as not alternating with equally ill-considered and short-lived bursts of carnal distractions of one sort or another), often melancholy, often judgmental. If you know much about the early history of New England colonization, you can see that the Puritans represent the acme of this spiritual type.

Those who have this mindset tend, by nature or training, to see God always as the stern, unappeasable Judge, whose dealings with man are always based on law and justice, and who demands of us an exact fulfillment of rules and rubrics. And we, in fulfilling these, do not really hope for, or believe in, the transfiguration and renewal of our souls and minds. At best, we hope that our scrupulous fulfillment of the Law will induce God to overlook our flaws and sins which we, in our heart of hearts, feel remain always with us, unforgiven, unchanged, and unchangeable. In such an atmosphere, one’s spiritual life is not really a journey into communion with God through repentance and deification, so much as a dreary pendulum of efforts to appease an inscrutable and implacable God, interspersed with the outbreaks of resentment and frustration this causes us. Naturally, as you have observed, this leads either to a mental breakdown, or to the abandonment of participation in church life, which we come to feel is not “working” for us. This is not an Orthodox view of God. And having this false image of God makes having an Orthodox experience of God difficult.

People born in what remains of the Byzantine world don’t suffer from this as readily as we do. (They have other crosses to carry, of course.) And unless they’ve dealt with it in working with westerners, they don’t always find it easy to understand. Greeks, for example, can be rebellious, worldly, egotistical, materialistic, avaricious, cunning hedonists, but they have a basic optimism and confidence in the goodness of God, the beauty of the world, and their own worth as immortal persons, which makes repentance less complicated for them. Even if they have turned away from the Church, in their hearts they still have a fundamental understanding that God is a loving Father, the Theotokos is a longsuffering Mother who will come to their aid if they turn to her, and the world of creation is ultimately a place of meaning and beauty. In a funny way, they enjoy a sinful or worldly life, while they’re living it, more than we do, because they enjoy life more than we do, and they repent in a more child-like way because they can still touch a child’s belief that home—the Church—really is the place where

“when you go there, they have to take you in.”

The dread Pantocrator, gazing down in majestic judgment from high up in the dome of the city cathedral is also Christouli mou, “my little Christ,” who really listens when you run in to your neighborhood church on the way to work to cry and light a candle because your daughter is in trouble at school. The untouchable and all-holy Mother of God is also Panayitsa mou, who really will take your part before the court of heaven because, just like your own mom, she’ll always stick up for her children, no matter how badly they’ve behaved.

Once, a man was being chased by the police for having committed murder. He ran to our monastery, banged on the gates to be let in, and claimed sanctuary there. (Under Greek law, he would be safe as long as he remained inside the walls.) He cried until they let him in, and then demanded to see Fr. R., saying he wanted to go to confession. Fr. R. came down, took him into the catholicon, and closed the doors. Soon the police arrived, having traced him and found his car down the road. They also banged on the gates wanting the man brought out. Fr. R. came out of the church, wearing his epitrachelion, and told the police they needn’t wait. The man was with him, but had business to finish with God first, and when they were through, the man would come down to the police station and turn himself in. The police asked who would stand surety for the man’s appearance. “The Apostle Paul,” Fr. R. said. The police left, and after a while the man came out of the church, peaceful and changed in his countenance. The sisters fed him, and he drove away to turn himself in. He was tried, found guilty, and sentenced.

That is the Christian soul of a man, and a culture, at work. The man knew he was guilty of a crime at law, but he knew also that his heaviest burden was the sin that lay upon his soul. Instead of committing suicide, or taking thirty hostages in a shopping mall, he ran to the church to be washed and clothed and fed, spiritually and physically, before going to make his peace with Caesar. He accepted punishment in this world with a peaceful heart, knowing that he was already freed of punishment in the world to come. In the same way, every man wounded by sin in a fallen world, who runs for salvation to the Church, finds the arms of Christ open to him.

You have seen for yourself that the sort of thinking you mention in your letter is crazy and self-defeating. God does not sit up in the sky, setting us impossible tasks we must perform at any cost, no matter how unsuited they may be to our nature and abilities. He doesn’t begrudge our innocent pleasures, or enjoy our failures or mistakes. Humility is not self-hatred, and self-reproach is not neurotic self-obsession. “If I do something I enjoy doing, then it is definitely not God’s will… If I am asked to do something I have no talent or desire to do, this is God’s will… I must always be suffering.” A classic exposition of the Jansenist manifesto! Fortunately, it has nothing to do with Christ, or with life in Christ. You are on the right track when you suppose the answer lies in looking at Christ, and following His commandments. And those commandments are compassed like this:

“To love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and soul and strength, and thy neighbor as thyself. In this is all the law, and the prophets.”

Trials and sufferings will come upon us, if we are looking to keep this Great Commandment, but they will come unsought. We needn’t invent them for ourselves, by putting gravel in our shoes and ashes on our food, or forcing ourselves to be a bad radio announcer when we could be a good landscape gardener because we think God will finally like us (or at least let us slip past His eye) if we do as many of the things we hate as possible.

Self-accusation is also a big bear-trap for self-hating Puritans like you. I was reading an article by Elder Sophrony of Essex [2] last week. Someone was asking him about the psychological and emotional problems so prevalent in western life, and whether he felt that secular psychiatry offered any help. He said that, with the exception of syndromes directly attributable to malfunctioning brain chemistry, he felt that psychiatrists often do more harm than good by making people focus too much on themselves and too little on God and their neighbor. He said they begin to concentrate too much on the “designated problem,” often not the real problem anyway, and then try to change it by yet more self-analysis and introspection, which only makes us prey to many kinds of illusion. In this interview, done a couple of years before his repose, Fr. Sophrony said he doesn’t advocate too much introspection even for monastics or his other spiritual children.

“You know, we pick and poke away, hunting for every little mistake or thought, and we make ourselves crazy, all for nothing. It becomes an obsession, and really makes a wall between us and God, leaving no room for grace to act. Yes, we must know in general our sins, and that we are sinful and deluded beings, but we must never lose sight of the fact that we come to God in prayer, not to be obsessed with our sins, but to find His mercy. Otherwise the devil takes everything away from us… joy, hope, peace, love… and leaves us nothing but this obsession with our mistakes. That is not repentance. That is neurosis.”

The remedy? I knew a woman once, a spiritual child of Elder Sophrony’s, a middle-aged married woman with several children, who was overtaken suddenly by a painful psycho-spiritual illness: severe depression with suicidal thoughts, which took the form of religious mania. She was obsessed with forebodings of damnation and despair of forgiveness; made long catalogues of her minutest daily thoughts, no matter how fleeting, etc. In desperation, with her marriage almost over, she went to Essex and begged Fr. Sophrony for help. He told her to throw out all of her notebooks of sins, to read the Gospel of St. John every day for a year, to say the Jesus Prayer as much as she could [3], to receive Holy Communion as often as possible, and to come back to Essex for some time every year, to rest and pray there. She did as he said, and made slow progress at first; but after a few years she became free and whole again.

She told me at first that she had to say the Prayer out loud as much as she could, because the minute she stopped, she began falling back into her “old crazy mind” as she called it; but little by little, she began having more time free of her fears. The Gospel of St. John, after many repetitions, forced her to see that God is really a God of love, who cares for her in a personal sense. This was reinforced by her practice of the Prayer and her visits with Fr. Sophrony.

Over the course of time, she proved to have quite a gift of intercessory prayer for others and spent the remainder of her life, as her children were grown, living a quiet life, “only a housewife” to all appearances, but spending much time each day in prayer for others, a form of charity in which she was much aided in the great compassion for the sufferings of others that her own torment had given her.

You asked for suggestions. Naturally, anything I offer is subject to your own confessor’s direction, but the following suggestions come to mind: Your case may not be so extreme… but it can become so. I would suggest you begin making an effort to cut off these darkly accusing thoughts by saying the Prayer when they arise, and also reading the Gospel as much as you can. You might find it helpful to simply prepare your confession from a prayer book for now—using the list of sins in the Erie prayer book* or another, but using this to prepare only on the day you go to confession. Don’t allow yourself to brood over them outside that allotted time of preparation for the Sacrament. For this period, you shouldn’t need more than an hour, at the most, to prepare for confession.

Once you’re done, you’re done. No cheating. After you go to confession, drive away by the Jesus Prayer all thoughts which try to remind you of the sins confessed, or make you think you’re still not “really forgiven”. Don’t be discouraged if they return, and don’t make yourself more upset by castigating yourself over it. Just try, as peacefully as you can, to keep saying the Prayer. You may also find help by saying several knots, or a rope, to the Mother of God. She’s very good at helping us up when we feel lost in the uttermost depths. So, pray simply, and simply pray. Don’t brood over the unchangeable past. Self-accusation time should be limited to once a week, or whenever you prepare for confession, for now.

Don’t worry if you don’t feel joyful on feastdays or other times when you “ought” to feel joyful. Joy is a gift, like life and sunlight and air and flowers and food. It comes and goes, according to its own rhythms and seasons, and its presence doesn’t mean someone’s holy, any more than its absence means someone’s doomed. For beginners in spiritual life, feelings are not as important as acts and habits.

We must build the habits of prayer and life in Christ, and let the feelings follow when (or if) they may. When you pray, don’t get all worked up into a fret by monitoring yourself constantly, trying to measure how many seconds of compunction you achieved or whether you felt 1.5 degrees more repentant than yesterday. Just say the Prayer, and keep your mind on the words of the Prayer. The more we scrutinize ourselves, the less we’re paying attention to God. Might as well chuck the prayer rope and spend an hour looking in the mirror instead. If your mind wanders, don’t make a mental note to accuse yourself of being distracted from 1:06 to 1:09 on Tuesday. Just gently put your thought back on the words of the Prayer, and use the words as an anchor to tug you back to the here-and-now if you drift away. That’s enough.

It may be, as you suspect, that you’ve collected a few mistaken ideas about how to live an Orthodox spiritual life, and that these mistaken ideas have colored some of your experiences and influenced some of your decisions, especially those having to do with monastic life. Well, mistakes are just mistakes: chances to learn better and different ways of being and doing, not indictments of our right to exist or our hope for salvation. Give thanks to the Lord that in His mercy He is opening your eyes to see these things now, and to think and act upon them with His help. It’s spring now in the natural world, and springtime for the soul too. You have a chance to do a little spring cleaning in your natural house, and start off a summer of new growth with cleaner windows on the world and fresher, brighter rooms inside your heart. Do not be tricked into believing the demons who tell you that you are

“committing a blasphemy even at Liturgy, because you do not ever seem to get better.”

It is they who are locked in their hatred of God and man, and who blaspheme, full of rage because they know they will never change, and hatred for us because we can. First of all, it is not our task to judge whether we are ever “getting any better.” That is the Lord’s business, not ours, nor yet the devil’s. Secondly, you are a beloved child of the living God, Who died and rose that you might also die and rise, and live forever in joy with Him. The Lord Who broke the bars of death and harrowed the pit of hell is quite capable of bringing you safe home to Heaven, if you will get out of the way and let Him in. “Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Be of good cheer. I wish you well, and hope to hear from you again.

In Christ,
M.

Source

by Fr. Gregory Jensen

Troparion of St George

As the deliverer of captives and defender of the poor, healer of the infirm and champion of kings, victorious great martyr George intercede with Christ our God for our souls salvation.

Our last conversation focused on the macro-level of the Church’s moral witness on matters of war and peace. In this second post I want to focus on the what is for me more interesting, observation micro-level and pastoral observation made by the fathers of the Sacred Bishops’ Council of the Russian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate in their encyclical , “The Basis of the Social Concept.” Specifically, I am interested in the positive view the fathers hold for military service for Christians in general and of the Christian warrior in particular.

The fathers are explicit on these matters (VIII.2):

In all times, Orthodoxy has had profound respect for soldiers who gave their lives to protect the life and security of their neighbours. The Holy Church has canonised many soldiers, taking into account their Christian virtues and applying to them Christ’s world: “Greater love hath no man but this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (Jn. 15:13).

Reflecting on the icon of St George the Great-Martyr and Trophy Bearer, they observe that in the battle between the saint and the dragon the Church sees

“vividly . . . that evil and the struggle with it should be completely separated, for in struggling with sin it is important to avoid sharing in it. In all the vital situations where force needs to be used, the human heart should not be caught by bad feelings akin to evil spirits and their like.”

They continue by observing that the just use of force is only possible if one has

“victory over evil in one’s heart” (VIII.4)

With somewhat inelegant phrasing they argue that the tradition of the Church assert “love in human relations” while at the same time “resolutely reject[ing] the idea of non-resistance to evil by force.” For this reason, and here I think the bishops speak not simply prudentially but normatively,

“The Christian moral law deplores not the struggle with sin, not the use of force towards its bearer and not even taking another’s life in the last resort, but rather malice in the human heart and the desire to humiliate or destroy whosoever it may be” (VIII.4, emphasis added).

For military personnel this standard is, and again to quote the synodal fathers, a “lofty” one and demands not only a great ascetical effort from them but “a special concern for the military,” by pastors who are called by Christ to “educate them [in] faithfulness” to their call to defend the innocent and the defenseless against unjust aggressors. As I have mentioned in other places, the vocation of the Christian warrior is a dangerous and demanding one requiring as it does that the solider stand physically between the aggressor and his intended target and that he respond with force—even deadly force if needed—and yet do so without malice.

This requires to be sure not only intense self-discipline and physical courage equal to any monastic asceticism, it also demands that the warrior bear the physical, psychological and spiritual scars of his service. This burden is made all the more difficult I think when military personnel (to say nothing of law enforcement professionals) are greeted with a lack of appreciation for the positive good of their service to say nothing of open hostility and moral censure what their service.

It is important to understand that the council fathers’ reflection on war—and so my own thoughts on their words—are presented within a particular theological understanding not simply of war but of peace (section VIII.5). Peace is not, to risk a cliché, the absence of conflict but the fruit of

“God’s promises recorded in the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments.”

Unlike the partial, and often deceptive, views defended and advanced by us the rulers of this world who would lord it over others (see Mark 10:35-45), the Church understands peace as

“a beneficial gift of God, for which we pray and solicit God for our own sake and the sake of all people.”

Source

Tim Flinders will graduate from Grand Valley State University next month. Raised Lutheran, he also explored fundamentalist Baptism, Roman Catholicism and even Messianic Judaism before converting to Orthodox Christianity this year.

“Orthodoxy has completely transformed me already,” he said. “I feel like the first time in my life I’m growing spiritually.”

Flinders, 22, like many other young people converting to Eastern Orthodoxy, was looking for authenticity and historical accuracy in his Christian faith.

“I had so many different questions that needed to be answered,”

said Flinders, who added he wrestled with the many divisions of the Christian church over the years.

He was chrismated Holy Saturday at St. George Orthodox Church in Grand Rapids. Chrismation is akin to confirmation.

Recently he attended the second annual Encountering Orthodoxy Conference at Hope College.

The Rev. Deacon Nicholas Belcher, dean of students at Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology in Boston, gave the opening keynote address, using the themes of holy week to introduce Orthodoxy to the more than 50 who attended.

Eastern Orthodox Easter, Pascha in Greek, fell on the same day as Western Easter this year.

Belcher described the nailing of Jesus to the cross as

“one of the most cruel things human beings have ever thought of to do to other human beings.”

Eastern Orthodox Christians, he explained, experience the crucifixion and resurrection in the now during liturgy.

“There is no sense that we are just talking about something that happened a long time ago. It is today,” he said.

Dustin Miller, a Hope senior, attended the conference for extra credit in his history of Christianity class, but said,

“I’ve always been curious about Orthodoxy.”

He, too, said he was looking for the apostolic, historical roots of the Christian church. Miller considers himself non-denominational and said he didn’t know the Hope campus had Orthodox students.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to find what best fits me,” Miller said.

The Orthodox Christian Fellowship campus club, which sponsored this month’s conference, meets Thursday nights for Small Compline (a short Psalm and evening prayer service). Then the handful of Orthodox students, one seminary student and Fr. Steven VanBronkhorst discuss topics such as biblical foundations for Orthodox worship.

He would like to see more inquirers at the OCF meetings and more students at the second annual Encountering Orthodoxy Conference.

VanBronkhorst was a Reformed Church of America minister for almost two decades before coming to the Orthodox church 14 years ago. Still, VanBronkhorst said, he sees many more today looking for the historical church than when he was doing his own searching.

“I always felt that ideally there should be just one church,” he said. “The Orthodox church is by far the most historically faithful body. … Who is going to deny that the greater part of the evangelical world has the faith? They have faith. What they don’t have is the worship.”

Tyler Dykstra of Holland was chrismated this month.

He grew up Christian Reformed, but says he “wanted more.”

“Over time I started to realize there was so much history I had not known about even though I had gone to Christian schools all my life,” Dykstra, 24, said.

Source

February 21, 2010

On this day we celebrate the Triumph of Orthodoxy, the commemoration of the defeat of the heresy of iconoclasm. The word “heresy,” as we know, means “false teaching” and the false teaching that was finally vanquished was iconoclasm.

“Iconclast” comes from the Greek work that means “icon-breaker.” The iconoclasts were those who smashed the icons because they believed that the Orthodox faithful, in venerating icons, were breaking the first commandment that says, “Thou shalt not make unto yourself any graven image.”

Of course the objection ran deeper than that. Look at it closely and you see that the false teaching – the heresy – of iconclasm taught something else too. It taught that Jesus Christ never really existed. The second person of the Trinity, the Word — capital W — of the Father never really became flesh and dwelt among us.

And that is why the Orthodox leaders fought the heresy. If the Word did not become flesh and dwell among us, then we believe a lie. Salvation does not really exist. We are deceivers who are deceived.

The iconoclasts were wrong in this way: When the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, you could make an image of Him because He existed just like you and I do – in space and time. Jesus had flesh and blood – just like you and me. He was not a phantom or just a figure in our imagination.

And that is why creating an icon of Jesus Christ is allowed. In fact, St. Paul tells us in scripture that Jesus the Son is the – and I am looking at the English here – “express image” of the Father. Look this up in the Greek and the word is eikon — or “icon.” We are allowed to make an icon of the Eikon, an image of the Image.

So, if you were around two thousand years ago and had your digital camera with you, you could have taken a picture of Jesus and His image could be printed out on paper. He wasn’t an imaginary figure. He wasn’t a concept. He was nothing less than a flesh and blood human being. And, like the faithful of old, you would venerate that image because He was also the Son of God.

This service, the one we celebrated today was first held in 842 in Constantinople. Patriarch Methodios presided and the faithful Empress Theodora was in attendance. It has been held every year on the first Sunday of Lent in every Orthodox Church every year ever since.

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But there is a deeper lesson for us too. And the lesson is this: Every generation faces its own heresies – its own false teachings – that require a defense drawn from the faith.

In America we face them too although in different ways. America is a great country. It has grasped some principles about human freedom and liberty that, at their core, are Christian in their origin. But we are not an empire or a monarchy. We are not mono-cultural. We are a nation of immigrants who govern ourselves not as a tribe, but under the rule of law.

So things work differently here. We have no emperor. We have no patriarch — at least not yet. We have the public square to debate and settle our differences, and that public square is often a noisy, raucous, and sometimes unfair place.

Do you wonder why moral questions become political issues sometimes? That’s why. Do you ask yourself why people get so emotionally invested in what otherwise would be private affairs? That’s why too. Do you wish that sometimes the emotional temperature could be lowered a few degrees? I do too but usually it doesn’t happen.

And there are huge questions being debated today. Gay marriage, what constitutes a family, greed in the marketplace, our relationship to the environment, who should live and who should die – all sorts of question that portend a very different society down the road depending on how they are answered.

But here too we have to take a closer look. And if you look closely, past the immediate political posturing on the many sides of these issues, you see that they pose this common question: What does it means to be a human being? From the Christian point of view we would sharpen that question even further: Who did God create us to be?

In theological language — and I am going to throw out a thirty-five dollar theological term here — we call this an “anthropological” question. “Anthropological” comes from the Greek work anthropos which means, “man.” The question behind many of the questions in our culture today is really a question about what it means to be a human being – Who did God create us to be?

From that question flow a thousand others that crystallize around a handful of secondary ones — How do I understand myself? How do I understand others? How do I relate to others? How to I relate to the physical world around me? What is my responsibility to my neighbor?

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Let me shift gears. I said earlier that this celebration — the Sunday of Orthodoxy — commemorated the restoration of icons that was really the restoration of the Orthodox faith. I also said that every generation faces the heresies — the false teachings — in its own time and way. I said too that in America, we have these great conflicts but they express themselves in a different way.

With that in mind, in America, the Sunday of Orthodox is also the time we discuss Orthodox unity – the goal of having one unified Orthodox Church in America.

I believe the time has come that if we do not have unity, Orthodoxy in America will never reach its God-given commission to bring the kind of light to this great nation that can heal it – that can answer in intelligent and compelling ways the core questions that frame so many great debates in the public square.

I also believe that the objections we hear to Orthodox unity have become largely irrelevant for this reason: your children and grandchildren are American. If Orthodox Christianity cannot reach them as Americans — which is to say that if it cannot speak to them in the cultural context that the Orthodox of old reached their children in their particular cultures — the Church will not die (it never dies), but Orthodoxy in America will retrench and fade into a cultural and religious oddity much in the same way that we think about the Amish or the Shakers.

Our children and grandchildren are American. Nothing will change that. If the Church will not incorporate the Orthodox faith into American culture, it won’t have anything to say to them and they will look elsewhere for the living water. And God, being a good God who loves mankind – phil-anthropos-translated as “the lover or mankind” or sometimes “the friend of man” — just might find another way to give it to them.

Orthodoxy has always been closely tied to culture. In fact, you can’t have religion with a corresponding cultural expression of it. Put another way, religious faith enervates, vivifies, makes alive, the culture in which we live. Religion is the ground of culture. The tradition is the structure that shapes culture so that culture itself points to and references the deepest truth of all – the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

So I join my voice with those who — on this day in years past and in many churches all over America today — call for the Orthodox in America to embrace the Gospel commission to go forth unto all nations to preach and baptize. Orthodoxy, which its rich comprehension of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is coming of age in a new, young, and very vibrant country that is being prepared to hear this gospel and thereby have new life breathed into it.

We see Orthodoxy in America coming of age at the same time that America is in a deep cultural crisis. I do not believe this is a historical accident. I believe that God brought the Orthodox faith to America to speak to a nation that needs new life breathed into it at the proper time. That time is now.

And if we respond, then we are faithful to the legacy bequeathed to us that we celebrate today. Then we can stand with the assurance and resolve that we too are meeting the challenge of our generation in the same way that the Orthodox did over 1200 years ago.

Our father among the saints John Chrysostom, Archbishop of Constantinople, was a notable Christian bishop and preacher from the fourth and fifth centuries in Syria and Constantinople. He is famous for eloquence in public speaking and his denunciation of abuse of authority in the Church and in the Roman Empire of the time. His banishments demonstrated that secular powers had strong influence in the eastern Church at this period in history.

Call to mind that day, on which for the Apostles

“there appeared disparate tongues like fire, and sat over each one of them” (Acts 2:3).

And that the baptism of John did not impart the Spirit and remission of sins is evident from the following: Paul

“found certain disciples, and said to them: received ye the Holy Spirit since ye have believed? They said to him: but furthermore whether it be of the Holy Spirit, we shall hear. He said to them: into what were ye baptized? They answered: into the baptism of John. Paul then said: John indeed baptized with the baptism of repentance,” — repentance, but not remission of sins; for whom did he baptize? “Having proclaimed to the people, that they should believe in the One coming after him, namely, Christ Jesus. Having heard this, they were baptized in the Name of the Lord Jesus: and Paul laying his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them” (Acts 19:1-6).

Do you see, how incomplete was the baptism of John? If the one were not incomplete, would then Paul have baptized them again, and placed his hands on them; having performed also the second, he shew the superiority of the apostolic Baptism and that the baptism of John was far less than his. Thus, from this we recognize the difference of the baptisms.

Now it is necessary to say, for whom was Christ baptised and by which baptism? Neither the former the Jewish, nor the last — ours. Whence hath He need for remission of sins, how is this possible for Him, Who hath not any sins?

“Of sin, — it says in the Scriptures, — worked He not, nor was there deceit found in His mouth” (1 Pet 2:22);

and further,

“who of you convicts Me of Sin?” (Jn 8:46).

And His flesh was privy to the Holy Spirit; how might this be possible, when it in the beginning was fashioned by the Holy Spirit? And so, if His flesh was privy to the Holy Spirit, and He was not subject to sins, then for whom was He baptized? But first of all it is necessary for us to recognize, by which baptism He was baptized, and then it will be clear for us. By which baptism indeed was He baptized? — Not the Jewish, nor ours, nor John’s.

For whom, since thou from thine own aspect of baptism dost perceive, that He was baptized not by reason of sin and not having need of the gift of the Spirit; therefore, as we have demonstrated, this baptism was alien to the one and to the other. Hence it is evident, that He came to Jordan not for the forgiveness of sins and not for receiving the gifts of the Spirit. But so that some from those present then should not think, that He came for repentance like others, listen to how John precluded this. What he then spoke to the others then was:

“Bear ye fruits worthy of repentance”;

but listen what he said to Him:

“I have need to be baptized of You, and You come to me?” (Mt 3:8, 14).

With these words he demonstrated, that Christ came to him not through that need with which people came, and that He was so far from the need to be baptized for this reason — so much more sublime and perfectly purer than Baptism itself. For whom was He baptized, if this was done not for repentance, nor for the remission of sins, nor for receiving the gifts of the Spirit? Through the other two reasons, of which about the one the disciple speaks, and about the other He Himself spoke to John. Which reason of this baptism did John declare? Namely, that Christ should become known to the people, as Paul also mentions:

“John therefore baptized with the baptism of repentance, so that through him they should believe on Him that comes” (Acts 19:4);

this was the consequence of the baptism. If John had gone to the home of each and, standing at the door, had spoken out for Christ and said:

“He is the Son of God,”

such a testimony would have been suspicious, and this deed would have been extremely perplexing. So too, if he in advocating Christ had gone into the synagogues and witnessed to Him, this testimony of his might be suspiciously fabricated. But when all the people thronged out from all the cities to Jordan and remained on the banks of the river, and when He Himself came to be baptized and received the testimony of the Father by a voice from above and by the coming-upon of the Spirit in the form of a dove, then the testimony of John about Him was made beyond all questioning. And since he said:

“and I knew Him not” (Jn 1:31),

his testimony put forth is trustworthy. They were kindred after the flesh between themselves

“wherefore Elizabeth, thy kinswoman, hath also conceived a son” — said the Angel to Mary about the mother of John (Lk. 1: 36);

if however the mothers were relatives, then obviously so also were the children. Thus, since they were kinsmen — in order that it should not seem that John would testify concerning Christ because of kinship, the grace of the Spirit organized it such, that John spent all his early years in the wilderness, so that it should not seem that John had declared his testimony out of friendship or some similar reason. But John, as he was instructed of God, thus also announced about Him, wherein also he did say: “and I knew Him not.” From whence didst thou find out?

“He having sent me that says to baptize with water, That One did tell me”

What did He tell thee?

“Over Him thou shalt see the Spirit descending, like to a dove, and abiding over Him, That One is baptized by the Holy Spirit” (Jn 1:32-33).

Dost thou see, that the Holy Spirit did not descend as in a first time then coming down upon Him, but in order to point out that preached by His inspiration — as though by a finger, it pointed Him out to all. For this reason He came to baptism.

And there is a second reason, about which He Himself spoke — what exactly is it? When John said:

“I have need to be baptized of Thee, and Thou art come to me?”

– He answered thus:

“stay now, for thus it becomes us to fulfill every righteousness” (Mt 3:14-15).

Dost thou see the meekness of the servant? Dost thou see the humility of the Master? What does He mean:

“to fulfill every righteousness?”

By righteousness is meant the fulfillment of all the commandments, as is said:

“both were righteous, walking faultlessly in the commandments of the Lord” (Lk 1:6).

Since fulfilling this righteousness was necessary for all people — but no one of them kept it or fulfilled it — Christ came then and fulfilled this righteousness.

And what righteousness is there, someone will say, in being baptized? Obedience for a prophet was righteous. As Christ was circumcised, offered sacrifice, kept the sabbath and observed the Jewish feasts, so also He added this remaining thing, that He was obedient to having been baptized by a prophet. It was the will of God then, that all should be baptized — about which listen, as John speaks:

“He having sent me to baptize with water” (Jn 1:33);

so also Christ:

“the publicans and the people do justify God, having been baptized with the baptism of John; the pharisees and the lawyers reject the counsel of God concerning themselves, not having been baptized by him” (Lk 7:29-30).

Thus, if obedience to God constitutes righteousness, and God sent John to baptize the nation, then Christ has also fulfilled this along with all the other commandments.

Consider, that the commandments of the law is the main point of the two denarii: this — debt, which our race has needed to pay; but we did not pay it, and we, falling under such an accusation, are embraced by death. Christ came, and finding us afflicted by it — He paid the debt, fulfilled the necessary and seized from it those, who were not able to pay. Wherefore He does not say: “it is necessary for us to do this or that,” but rather

“to fulfill every righteousness.”

“It is for Me, being the Master, — says He, — proper to make payment for the needy.”

Such was the reason for His baptism — wherefore they should see, that He had fulfilled all the law — both this reason and also that, about which was spoken of before. Wherefore also the Spirit did descend as a dove: because where there is reconciliation with God — there also is the dove. So also in the ark of Noah the dove did bring the branch of olive — a sign of God’s love of mankind and of the cessation of the flood. And now in the form of a dove, and not in a body — this particularly deserves to be noted — the Spirit descended, announcing the universal mercy of God and showing with it, that the spiritual man needs to be gentle, simple and innocent, as Christ also says:

“Except ye be converted and become as children, ye shalt not enter into the Heavenly Kingdom” (Mt 18:3).

But that ark, after the cessation of the flood, remained upon the earth; this ark, after the cessation of wrath, is taken to heaven, and now this Immaculate and Imperishable Body is situated at the right hand of the Father.

Having made mention about the Body of the Lord, I shall also say a little about this, and then the conclusion of the talk. Many now will approach the Holy Table on the occasion of the feast. But some approach not with trembling, but shoving, hitting others, blazing with anger, shouting, cursing, roughing it up with their fellows with great confusion. What, tell me, are you troubled by, my fellow? What disturbs you? Do urgent affairs, for certain, summon you?

At this hour art thou particularly aware, that these affairs of thine that thou particularly remember, that thou art situated upon the earth, and dost thou think to mix about with people? But is it not with a soul of stone naturally to think, that in such a time thou stand upon the earth, and not exult with the Angels with whom to raise up victorious song to God? For this Christ also did describe us with eagles, saying:

“where the corpse is, there are the eagles gathered” (Mt 24:28)

– so that we might have risen to heaven and soared to the heights, having ascended on the wings of the spirit; but we, like snakes, crawl upon the earth and eat dirt. Having been invited to supper, thou, although satiated before others, would not dare to leave before others while others are still reclining. But here, when the sacred doings are going on, thou at the very middle would pass by everything and leave? Is it for a worthy excuse? What excuse might it be? Judas, having communed that last evening on that final night, left hastily then as all the others were still reclining.

Here these also are in imitation of him, who leave before the final blessing! If he had not gone, then he would not have made the betrayal; if he did not leave his co-disciples, then he would not have perished; if he had not removed himself from the flock, then the wolf would not have seized and devoured him alone; if he had separated himself from the Pastor, then he would not have made himself the prey of wild beasts.

Wherefore he (Judas) was with the Jews, and those (the apostles) went out with the Lord. Dost thou see, by what manner the final prayer after the offering of the sacrifice is accomplished? We should, beloved, stand forth for this, we should ponder this, fearful of the coming judgement for this.

We should approach the Holy Sacrifice with great decorum, with proper piety, so as to merit us more of God’s benevolence, to cleanse one’s soul and to receive eternal blessings, of which may we all be worthy by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to with Whom the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and worship now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Our father among the saints John Chrysostom, Archbishop of Constantinople, was a notable Christian bishop and preacher from the fourth and fifth centuries in Syria and Constantinople. He is famous for eloquence in public speaking and his denunciation of abuse of authority in the Church and in the Roman Empire of the time. His banishments demonstrated that secular powers had strong influence in the eastern Church at this period in history.

We shall now say something about the present feast. Many celebrate the feast days and know their designations, but the cause for which they were established they know not. Thus concerning this, that the present feast is called Theophany — everyone knows; but what this is — Theophany, and whether it be one thing or another, they know not. And this is shameful — every year to celebrate the feast day and not know its reason.

First of all therefore, it is necessary to say that there is not one Theophany, but two: the one actual, which already has occurred, and the second in future, which will happen with glory at the end of the world. About this one and about the other you will hear today from Paul, who in conversing with Titus, speaks thus about the present: “

The grace of God hath revealed itself, having saved all mankind, decreeing, that we reject iniquity and worldly desires, and dwell in the present age in prudence and in righteousness and piety” — and about the future: “awaiting the blessed hope and glorious appearance of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ” (Tit 2:11-13).

And a prophet speaks thus about this latter:

“the sun shall turn to darkness, and the moon to blood at first, then shalt come the great and illuminating Day of the Lord” (Joel 2:31).

Why is not that day, on which the Lord was born, considered Theophany — but rather this day on which He was baptized?

This present day it is, on which He was baptized and sanctified the nature of water. Because on this day all, having obtained the waters, do carry it home and keep it all year, since today the waters are sanctified; and an obvious phenomenon occurs: these waters in their essence do not spoil with the passage of time, but obtained today, for one whole year and often for two or three years, they remain unharmed and fresh, and afterwards for a long time do not stop being water, just as that obtained from the fountains.

Why then is this day called Theophany?

Because Christ made Himself known to all — not then when He was born — but then when He was baptised. Until this time He was not known to the people. And that the people did not know Him, Who He was, listen about this to John the Baptist, who says:

“Amidst you stands, Him Whom you know not of” (Jn.1:26).

And is it surprising that others did not know Him, when even the Baptist did not know Him until that day?

“And I — said he — knew Him not: but He that did send me to baptise with water, about This One did tell unto me: over Him that shalt see the Spirit descending and abiding upon Him, This One it is Who baptizes in the Holy Spirit” (Jn. 1:33).

Thus from this it is evident, that — there are two Theophanies, and why Christ comes at baptism and on whichever baptism He comes, about this it is necessary to say: it is therefore necessary to know both the one and equally the other. And first it is necessary to speak your love about the latter, so that we might learn about the former.

There was a Jewish baptism, which cleansed from bodily impurities, but not to remove sins.

Thus, whoever committed adultery, or decided on thievery, or who did some other kind of misdeed, it did not free him from guilt. But whoever touched the bones of the dead, whoever tasted food forbidden by the law, whoever approached from contamination, whoever consorted with lepers — that one washed, and until evening was impure, and then cleansed.

“Let one wash his body in pure water — it says in the Scriptures, — and he will be unclean until evening, and then he will be clean” (Lev 15:5, 22:4).

This was not truly of sins or impurities, but since the Jews lacked perfection, then God, accomplishing it by means of this greater piety, prepared them by their beginnings for a precise observance of important things.

Thus, Jewish cleansings did not free from sins, but only from bodily impurities. Not so with ours: it is far more sublime and it manifests a great grace, whereby it sets free from sin, it cleanses the spirit and bestows the gifts of the Spirit. And the baptism of John was far more sublime than the Jewish, but less so than ours: it was like a bridge between both baptisms, leading across itself from the first to the last.

Wherefore John did not give guidance for observance of bodily purifications, but together with them he exhorted and advised to be converted from vice to good deeds and to trust in the hope of salvation and the accomplishing of good deeds, rather than in different washings and purifications by water. John did not say: wash your clothes, wash your body, and ye will be pure, but what? –

“bear ye fruits worthy of repentance” (Mt 3:8).

Since it was more than of the Jews, but less than ours: the baptism of John did not impart the Holy Spirit and it did not grant forgiveness by grace: it gave the commandment to repent, but it was powerless to absolve sins. Wherefore John did also say:

“I baptize you with water…That One however will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Mt 3:11).

Obviously, he did not baptize with the Spirit. But what does this mean:

“with the Holy Spirit and with fire?”

Read Part 2.

As our culture became more commercialized, the period of celebration shifted from Thanksgiving to Christmas Day. Christmas celebration increasingly conforms to the shopping cycle while the older tradition falls by the wayside. It’s an worrisome shift because as the tradition dims, the knowledge that the period of preparation imparted diminishes with it.

Our Orthodox traditions — from fasting cycles to worship –exist to teach us how to live in Christ. The traditions impart discipline. These disciplines are never an end in themselves but neither can life in Christ be sustained apart from them.

The traditions only make sense only when they have the Gospel as their reference. If we forget that these traditions are given to us to help us lay hold of Christ, then they appear to be superfluous and the disciplines they encourage us to do seem to serve no real purpose. We start to evaluate the discipline by the values of the dominant culture — by a cost-benefit calculus, rather than seeing them as ways to morally reorient ourselves towards Christ.

Instead of preparing for the birth of Christ through inward reorientation, we follow the direction of the dominant culture and skip any preparation altogether. We party instead of fast. We get caught up in the commercial energy of the season rather than wait on the Spirit of God.

It’s a dangerous path. Our culture is becoming increasingly secularized; the sacred dimension of creation is slipping from view. This loss of this sacred sensibility has grave ramifications for society that are expressed in many different ways such as the vulgarization of popular culture or the reduction of an unborn child to a commodity. If this view prevails our culture will inevitably view man as nothing more than an animal or a machine.

But man is more than an animal or a machine. The scriptures reveal man is created in the image and likeness of God, a phrase that means that man is not complete unless he partakes of God — God must be part of man’s life. This longing — this innate knowledge that man is created for God — never leaves man although a person can bury it if he so chooses.

A secularized mind is blind to the inherent holiness of life. Maintaining our traditions is one way to avoid this debilitating malady. Christmas is not just “Jesus’ birthday” (an impoverished notion heard more and more even among Orthodox faithful), but much more.

The birth of Christ and His baptism ought never to be divorced. Both events define the Christmas season. It imparts to the Christian the knowledge that Christ’s coming into the world and Christ’s sanctification of the waters makes our new life possible — a sonship by adoption accomplished through baptism.

When the link between Christmas and Theophany is broken (and by neglecting the proper preparation we break it), the cultural memory of the promise of new birth expresses itself in weakened and ultimately insufficient cultural forms. These forms function as a new tradition.

Religion is not the product of culture; religion is the source, writes philosopher Russell Kirk. “It’s from an association in a cult, abody of worshipers, that human community grows…when belief in the cult has been wretchedly enfeebled, the culture will decay swiftly. The material order restson the spiritual order.”*

Orthodox Christianity can contribute to the recovery of the moral foundation of American culture by imparting knowledge that can strengthen and deepen that foundation. It won’t happen however, if the Orthodox faithful adopt the practices of the dominant culture in place of their own tradition.

*Russell Kirk “Civilization with Religion” The Heritage Foundation Report (July 24, 1992).

Author: Anonymous

1. Designate A Prayer Space: Whether it is in the corner of your desk or a little stand in your room, it is important to have a place where you can put your Bible, Icons, etc. Dedicate the use of that space for God alone.
2. Acquire A Time: Incorporate prayer in your routine and set time aside to center your thoughts to God.
3. Acquire A Library: Start with a Bible, then get a small Orthodox Prayer Book, after that start collecting books. Here are some suggestions: ‘Living the Liturgy’ (Fr. Stanley Harakas), ‘The Way of a Pilgrim’ (Monk of the Eastern Church), ‘For the Life of the World’ (Fr. Alexander Schmemann), ‘Beginning to Pray’ (Metropolitan Anthony Bloom), ‘Bread for Life’ (Fr. Theodore Stylianopoulos), ‘The Orthodox Way’ (Bishop Kallistos Ware), ‘Way of the Aesetic (Tito Collander).
4. Assemble An Altar: In your prayer center gather icons (Christ, Theotokos, Guardian Angel and patron saint), service books, incense, votive light, a cross, a prayer rope, etc. Incorporate your five senses in prayer.
5. Pray: Speak from your heart. Learn prayers of the Church. Try the Jesus Prayer or the Lord’s Prayer. Also incorporate your own prayers and thoughts.
6. Acquire A Spiritual Guide: This is a very important step. One should build a relationship with either a member of the clergy, monk or nun, who will become your spiritual guide. He/she will help guide and pace you to a balanced prayer life. The Sacrament of Confession can be arranged through your priest.
7. Fasting and Almsgiving: Fasting adds a dimension to your prayer life. Your fasting practice should be regulated to avoid physical and spiritual harm. As for alms, give where you see a need and trust that the Lord will provide.
8. Build On What You Already Have: If you already have a routine, build on it. If, for example, you pray before you go to sleep, it will be easier to read a chapter from the Bible before your bedtime prayers, than to set up some time during the day to read.
9. Sanctify All That You Do. You may have set aside a time and space for a prayer routine, but that doesn’t mean you should separate your life into sacred and secular. Privately thank God for what you have at all times, and make Him aware of your every concern. Dedicate everything you do to Him.
10. Remember the power of the Life-giving Cross, The sign of the Cross is a reminder of Christ in our lives. Blessing oneself with the cross by holding the first two fingers of the right hand and thumb together represents the Holy Trinity. The last two fingers held to the palm represent the two natures of Christ – God and man. Orthodox Christians cross themselves from the head to the breast and from shoulder to shoulder, right to left. This unique and all embracing symbol shows that the cross is the inspiration, power and indeed the very content of our lives.