“A major new Vatican document on the New Age movement has warned that a number of Catholic retreat places, seminaries and religious formation houses are dabbling in New Age spirituality which is incompatible with Christian doctrine.” Thus begins a review from The London Tablet, a Roman Catholic weekly, of Jesus Christ the Bearer of the Water of Life – A Christian Reflection on the “New Age”, an 88-page “provisional” report published February 2, 2003.

New Age spirituality is not foreign to the Orthodox. From its beginnings, the Church has continually had to deal with gnostic religious traditions. Some Orthodox retreat houses and camp facilities must rent their space to a wide variety of groups both in and outside the Church, simply to keep their doors open. In those situations, they see some of the same “dabbling” described in the Tablet’s review.

Retreat and camp facilities aside, our own faithful – many of whom are inactive cradle Orthodox – have been migrating away from the Faith toward New Age thought and religiosity. Helena Petrovna Blavatsky (+1891), founder of the Theosophical Society which is credited with starting the New Age Movement in 1875, is only one of many Orthodox Christians who have left the Church to seek the “mystical path.” The message of this new document should be of interest to Orthodox Christians as well as Roman Catholics. It attempts to deal with what it calls “the complex phenomenon of ‘New Age’ which is influencing many aspects of contemporary culture” (from the Foreword). The report analyzes the context in which the New Age has arisen, presents general characteristics of the movement, and contrasts it with authentic Christian spirituality. The text concludes with a glossary, a list of key New Age places and a bibliography.

In presenting the document, Cardinal Paul Poupard, president of the Pontifical Council for Culture, said, “The New Age phenomenon, along with many other new religious movements, is one of the most urgent challenges for the Christian faith.” “People feel the Christian religion no longer offers them – or perhaps never gave them – something they really need,” says the report. “The search which often leads people to the New Age is a genuine yearning: for a deeper spirituality, for something which will touch their hearts, and for a way of making sense of a confusing and often alienating world” (1.5). The report warns of the strong appeal of New Age thought and practice, even for Christians: “When the understanding of the content of Christian faith is weak, some mistakenly hold that the Christian religion does not inspire a profound spirituality and so they seek elsewhere” (1.5).

In response to this assertion, the document aims to explain how the New Age movement differs from the Christian faith. Although it cautions its readers about New Age spirituality, it does not offer broad prohibitions. Instead, it seeks to encourage further study and offer means of discernment to those looking for a deeper spirituality.

If such a document were to be written by a commission of Eastern Orthodox Christians, the responses to some of the New Age assertions would be presented very differently. For example, in the Christian East we view the whole cosmos as a theophany; the material realm can be an image of the Creator Who somehow dwells within. This concept of panentheism (not pantheism) encourages us to see that all things are made through the Logos and bear His image. In addition, the sacramentality of matter inherent in the view of St. Maximus the Confessor is very much in opposition to the Western Christian dichotomization between spirit and matter. Nonetheless, despite the specific instances where we and Roman Catholics might evaluate the New Age from different perspectives, the text of Jesus Christ the Bearer of the Water of Life can easily apply to all Christians, East and West.

The term “New Age” originates with the belief in a cosmic turning point long predicted by astrologers: The second millennium, the Age of Pisces (the 2000-year Christian age of the fish icthys) is drawing to a close, moving from one mansion sign of the zodiac to the next. This leads to the dawning of the third millennium, a new Age of Aquarius (the water bearer).

With this in mind, the Vatican report takes its title from the encounter between the Savior and St.Photini, the Samaritan Woman at Jacob’s Well (John 4). Jesus Christ urges her (and by extension all mankind) to seek after Him: the Way the Truth and the Life. The Lord Jesus – not the zodiac’s water bearer – is the One Who inaugurated the New Aeon of the Kingdom of God and Who bestows Living Water.

The Vatican document states that many of today’s contemporary spiritual and religious practices may be grouped under the topic of “New Age.” Thus, it invites its readers “to take account of the way that New Age religiosity addresses the spiritual hunger of contemporary men and women” (Foreword). Much of what the New Age offers speaks to the yearning of many – “If the Church is not to be accused of being deaf to people’s longings, her members need . . . to root themselves ever more firmly in the fundamentals of their faith, and to understand the often-silent cry in people’s hearts, which leads them elsewhere if they are not satisfied by the Church” (1.5). The document says that there is a call in all of this to draw nearer to the Savior, since He is the authentic way to true joy.

The document contrasts many aspects of New Age spirituality, which it calls “a kind of spiritual narcissism or pseudo-mysticism” (3.2), with Christian “counterparts”:

• New Age thought frequently holds that Godis an impersonal energy or force, found deep within oneself and also deep within the whole cosmos. Christians, on the other hand, know, experience and love God as a transcendent trinity of Divine Persons. God, Who created the cosmos, “dwells in unapproachable light, [and] wants to communicate His own divine life” to His people so as to enter into relationship with Him: a communion of Love (4).
• New Age thought considers Jesus one teacher – or esoteric initiate or avatar – among many who could be considered to be christs. Christians know Him as the incarnate God, “the son of Mary and the only Son of God, true man and true God, the full revelation of divine truth, unique Saviour of the world” (4)
• New Age teaches that salvation (or enlightenment) is do-it-yourself self-fulfilment, selfrealization, self-redemption. Christians believe that salvation is a free gift from God. It “depends upon our participation in the passion, death and resurrection of Christ and on a direct personal relationship with God rather than on any technique” (4).
• New Age thinkers believe that prayer is a turning within oneself (or else a simple emptying of the mind) which “constitutes an essentially human enterprise on the part of the person who seeks to rise towards divinity by his or her own efforts” (3.4) Christian prayer, on the other hand, together with meditation and contemplation, has a double orientation: it involves introspection, but it is also a means of loving dialogue and mystical union with God. It “leads to an increasingly complete surrender to God’s will, whereby we are invited toa deep, genuine solidarity with our brothers and sisters” (3.4).

Christians acknowledge the reality of sin and its effects (sickness, sorrow, suffering and death). Each person is called “to share in that suffering through which the redemption was accomplished … that suffering through which all human suffering has been redeemed” (40). In New Age thought all these are minimized as “bad karma,” if not simply dismissed altogether.

The document encourages Christians to investigate the riches of their own tradition. When they do so, they are sometimes surprised at what they find.

Our own Christian mystical tradition shows that searching within provides much more depth and significance than can be found “outside.” There is probably nothing more noteworthy about Eastern Orthodox spirituality than the ancient patristic concept of theosis. Although it is found within the Western Christian mystical tradition, its roots lie in the Christian East. The water of life is offered to us by the very Word Himself in the dynamic interchange: the enfleshment of the Word of God and the en-Wordment of the flesh of humankind. Quoting from the Preface to Book 4 of St. Irenaeus’ Adversus Haereses, the document states that the Savior, “through His transcendent love, become what we are, that He might bring us to be even what He is Himself.” Here theosis, the Christian understanding of divinization, comes about not through our own efforts alone, “but with the assistance of God’s grace working in and through us… It unfolds as an introduction into the life of the Trinity, a perfect case of distinction at the heart of unity; it is synergy rather than fusion… It involves being transformed in our soul and in our body by participation in the sacramental life of the Church” (3.5).

The New Age refrain of “the god within” is a refrain of narcissism. It claims that there is no divine being “out there,” but rather that deep inside, we ourselves are divine. Taken to its logical extreme, then, we become divine – or rather, since we are already divine, we must discover our unlimited, divine potential within as we peel off layer after layer of “inauthentic existence.” The more this divine potential is recognized, the more it is realized and actualized. One unlocks God: salvation by mastering psycho-physical techniques leading to inner healing, enlightenment, salvation.

The document concludes with the suggestion of a number of practical steps. They are as applicable to Roman Catholics as they are to Orthodox Christians. Christian mystical spirituality is both contemplative and apostolic. The two “ways” are inter-dependent. Bearing this in mind, the document offers a challenge.

It points out that the movement’s adherents compare traditional religions to a cathedral and the New Age to a worldwide fair. Taking the image at its face value, it’s now time for Christians to take the cathedral’s message to the people at the fair. In fact, over the past decade many formerly New Age communities, while wandering along their mystical pathway, have come upon the Christian East.

With varying degrees of thoroughness they have shed their Aquarian orientation for the Savior’s gifts of the tree and crown of life, hidden manna, white stone, new name, white garments and synthronos (Apoc. 2-3) within the Orthodox Church. As an example, see the book entitled: The Odyssey of a New Religion: The Holy Order of MANS from New Age to Orthodoxy by Philip Charles Lucas, associate professor of religious studies at Stetson University in DeLand, Florida (Indiana University Press; (April 1995), ISBN: 0253336120).

“Christians need not, indeed, must not wait for an invitation to bring the message of the Good News of Jesus Christ to those who are looking for the answers to their questions, for spiritual food that satisfies, for living water” (6.2).

The key is not in emphasizing the inadequacy of other approaches, but instead to revisit the sources of our own faith, to offer “a good sound presentation of the Christian message.” We may need to recover the symbolism and artistic traditions of the Christian culture. In dialogue with people attracted to the new age, Christians must appeal to what touches the emotions and symbolic language.

We must begin with the Scriptures, the report says, but “most of all, coming to meet the Lord Jesus in prayer and in the sacraments, which are precisely the moments when our ordinary life is hallowed, is the surest way of making sense of the whole Christian message” (6.2).

Inviting Saint Nicholas Into Our Christmas

Every year, Christian parents face a dilemma: what to do about Santa Claus.

He’s everywhere, that “jolly old elf,” hawking tires, toys, and Playboy magazine, sitting in shopping malls taking orders for the latest batteries-not-included whizbang. Although movies about him portray him as someone concerned about the left-out child, his hymnography (think about the words to “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town!”) carries a theology of vengeful justice that is strange to be associated with One who said, “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance” (Luke 5:32).

As a matter of fact, this Santa Claus is not associated with Christ. He may be appropriate to affluent Victorian Christmases with huge candle-laden Christmas trees and middle-class American living rooms (with or without chimneys) where a snack awaits near the comfy chair. But in a stable with the Infant Jesus? They’re from different worlds.

Even the Supreme Court acknowledged the anomaly in Lynch vs. Donnelly (1984), when it ruled that Santa Claus and other secular symbols overcome the religious connection of a crèche in a public display. Santa may have his good points, but he has become our society’s way of keeping a happy winter holiday without facing up to the reality of Christ. So, cut off from the Triune God, the basis of all good, the “good” of Santa is defined by the movies, books, and advertisements that characterize him, and this good is ultimately answerable only to conventional morality. In a commercial society, it’s a commercial “good.”

Another dilemma that parents may find more immediately painful is that every year brings a new decision – whether to maintain the lie of Santa’s existence or to tell children the truth, at the risk of imitating that bah-humbugging (and also fictional) Christmas character, Scrooge.

There is an answer, though: Saint Nicholas, the real Saint Nicholas, a bishop of Myra in Lycea, who died around AD 350.

South of the North Pole

No, Myra wasn’t located at the North Pole. It was an important seaport of the early Christian centuries, situated in what is now known as Turkey. Nicholas, a wealthy young man brought up in a godly home, gave away his inheritance to the needy. The young Bishop Nicholas was imprisoned for his faith during the persecutions under the Roman emperor Diocletian, and he was set free when Constantine released the religious prisoners.

One of the most famous legends about his life tells of a poor man who was unable to provide dowries for his three daughters. If he couldn’t get them married, he’d have to sell them into slavery. Hearing of the family’s predicament, Nicholas took a bag (or a sock, as some versions have it) of gold, enough for a dowry, and tossed it into the family’s house through the window (or down the chimney). He repeated his anonymous gift for each of the daughters, enabling the girls to marry.

Another legend says that Saint Nicholas participated in the First Ecumenical Council at Nicea. He was so incensed at some remark of the heretic Arius about Christ and the Theotokos that he punched Arius in the nose. That was considered an inappropriate debating technique, even in that distant time when theology was important enough to fight about, and the leaders of the council took away Nicholas’ bishopric and put him in prison.

Christ and His mother appeared to those leaders, one bearing Nicholas’ omophorion (the stole marked with crosses that he and other bishops of that period wear in iconographic depictions), and the other the book of the Gospel. Taking their meaning, Nicholas’ fellow bishops set him free and returned him to office.

“Saint Nicholas, Hold the Tiller!”

There are many early legends about the miraculous interventions of Saint Nicholas in the lives of those in peril. In one, Bishop Nicholas helped three prisoners wrongly condemned to death. Coming to the scene of their execution, he stopped the executioner and berated the governor until he repented of having taken a bribe to have them killed. Three imperial officers passing through the area learned of these events.

Later, back in Constantinople, these three officers were themselves imprisoned and sentenced to death because of the intrigues of an official in Constantine’s court. Remembering Nicholas’ mercy, the officers prayed to God that through the bishop’s intercession they might be saved. That night, both the unjust official and Constantine himself received a very early visit from Bishop Nicholas, in a dream. The next morning, Constantine and the official agreed to set the officers free.

When sailors in the Christian East bless each other with the words, “May Saint Nicholas hold the tiller!” they are alluding to a story of sailors caught in a terrible storm. Having heard of the holiness and power of the bishop of Myra, these sailors called on his intercession. Nicholas came to them in a vision and took the helm himself and guided the ship into port. When the sailors reached Myra, they went to the Church, where they recognized their mysterious pilot.

Another time, a famine hit Lycea, and ships loaded with wheat came into the harbor on the way from Alexandria to Constantinople. Bishop Nicholas asked the crews to leave some of the wheat for his starving people. The sailors refused at first, afraid of arriving at their destination with less than a full load. At Nicholas’ promise that there would be no trouble, the sailors relented. And even though they left two years’ supply in Myra, the ships were full when they arrived in Constantinople.

Christmas Carryovers

These and many other acts of virtue (some, indeed, more credible than others) have become Saint Nicholas’ legacy to the Church. His feast day, December 6, goes far back in Christian history – at least to the ninth century, and very likely further than that. And the Church has celebrated his memory in many ways: in processions, in pageants, with special foods – some of which have become American Christmas customs without our even realizing it.

Many of the fun activities that we now associate with the holidays arise from commemorations of Saint Nicholas. Our practice of giving gifts at Christmas time came from the commemoration of the dowries, as well as the gifts of the Magi. The foil-covered chocolate coins that find their way into Christmas stockings are reminiscent of the dowries, as are the stockings themselves. And when we awake to find gifts that arrived anonymously in the night, we can recall the socks full of gold that came through the chimney (or the window) to save the lives of the three young women.

Our hooked candy canes are symbols of the bishop’s crosier. And, early in their history, gingerbread men wore bishops’ robes. The image of Saint Nicholas appeared on Byzantine seals more often than the image of any other person, and stamps are still available to imprint the seal of Saint Nicholas on cookies and other baked goods.

The Spirit of Saint Nicholas

These merriments can save our religious life from a dreary solemnity, but if they’re the whole focus, we’ve missed the point. The more important lesson of Saint Nicholas’ miracles is that he sacrificed to help people in need. And if we look carefully at those miracles, we see that people like the ones he helped are still with us today: The young women about to be sold into slavery? Our cities are full of young people enslaved to drugs, prostitution, and violence. The prisoners? Penitentiary inmates and their families have many needs, which translate into opportunities to serve. The drowning sailors? In many parts of the country, nonprofit organizations provide equipment and rescue teams to save drowning boaters, lost hikers, and snowed-in skiers. The famine in Lycea? We can find hungry people from the downtown of our nearest city to the most remote place in the world.

The more we understand the spirit of Saint Nicholas – the real man behind the myth – the more we can begin to pattern our lives after his godly example. Why should our children’s only glimpse of this saint be that of a phony dime-store Santa with a fake beard, before whom they must wait in line for the opportunity to rehearse their list of Christmas “gimmees”? The real Saint Nicholas has so many wonderful traits around which we all could be patterning our lives.

Instead of spending hours thinking up new and expensive gifts for “Santa” to bring them, many children could clean out their closets of toys they’ve outgrown or grown tired of, passing them on to other children who would be overjoyed to get them. Many adults could do the same with coats and clothes and blankets, sporting goods and books.

Some families might want to return to the ancient practice of giving modest gifts on Saint Nicholas’ feast day, and celebrating Christmas in ways that don’t require a garbage-truckload of wrapping paper. One family we know of anonymously gives five percent of their December income to a needy family. To make the feast of Saint Nicholas a special day, their children give puppet shows with home-made stocking puppets. The parents tell stories about Saint Nicholas to the children and discuss why he is worth imitating. They celebrate December 6 with a festive dinner and decorations.

Some families may wish to give up giving each other gifts altogether for Christmas. Others, though, remembering the model of the Magi and Saint Nicholas, may want to continue to give Christmas gifts, to honor the image of Christ that everyone bears. Remembrance is the key.

Teaching Our Children

We Americans often lament our lack of roots, the absence of tradition in our lives. And it’s truly a poverty – but it can also be an opportunity. We can look at Saint Nicholas (and other heroes of the faith) and ask, “How can we make this image of Christ tangible to ourselves and our children?” A suburban family will find a different answer than a rural one.

It will take creativity to bring Saint Nicholas to our time, but that can be fun. With a little imagination (and the help of someone who can sew), Dad can trade in that moth-eaten Santa suit for a Saint Nicholas outfit. Families in some places may be able to take a boat ride on the ocean, where the salt air and the swells, even on a calm day, can make it easy to imagine being a frightened sailor with a worthy pilot at the helm. Families or church youth groups can put on plays to illustrate stories of Saint Nicholas’ life.

Children can make a Saint Nicholas bank on his feast day, then collect coins throughout the Nativity fast and feast and give the money to charity.

Or they can make a “wheat candle,” a candle set in a tiny wheat field in a margarine tub, which grows up during the Nativity fast. This little garden commemorates both Saint Nicholas’ response to the famine in Myra and the light and new life in Christ.

These crafts link the Feast of Saint Nicholas and the Nativity of Christ in such a way that each infuses the other with meaning. The ways we find to kindle our children’s imagination today are tomorrow’s traditions – as today’s children, in turn, call the Wonderworker of Myra in Lycea to remembrance for their children.

Choosing the Real Santa

Saint Nicholas models obedience to Christ by feeding the hungry, helping strangers, and caring for prisoners (Matthew 25:34-36). He is an image, an icon, of the Triune God, and that gives his goodness a foundation that challenges every culture. It is not merely the whim of this year’s fashion.

Unlike the mythical Santa running a toy shop far off at the North Pole, Saint Nicholas presents us with an authentic witness of Christian virtue. Instead of beckoning us to join the holiday rat-race, Saint Nicholas calls us to run the great race of faith (II Timothy 4:7). The Church’s traditions can make us aware of this reality by making it tangible, like the twelve stones of Joshua, pointing to the power of God (Joshua 4).

So it’s appropriate, in a way, that the Feast of Saint Nicholas and the Feast of the Nativity have come together in our culture. The Incarnation was God’s arrival among humanity, and Saint Nicholas witnesses to His continued presence among us.

Note from the Authors

For more information about alternative Christmas traditions, read the Sherer family’s Christmas without Santa, available through Alternatives. [See In the Spirit of Saint Nicholas by Mike & Kathe Sherer in OFL! Ed.]

Jan Bear, a news editor and freelance writer, and Matushka Daria Gray, are both members of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church, Portland, OR. Reprinted from …Again, Vol. 13, Iss. 4, pages 13-15.

© 1996 by Orthodox Family Life and the original author(s).

The Alaskan Mission

Two hundred years ago this September, the first overseas mission of the Russian Orthodox Church arrived at Kodiak Alaska, founding what would become in 1970, the Orthodox Church in America. Just as this movement began in the west and moved eastward, in exactly the opposite direction as the rest of North American history, the Alaskan experience, in fact, contradicts many stereotypes of Christian missions and missionaries.

Although the monastic clergy in 1794 were sent to minister to several hundred employees of the fur trading company in the region, their primary goal was the conversion of the indigenous peoples of the Aleutian and Kodiak Archipelagos. When they discovered that the former were exploiting and oppressing the latter, they sided with the Natives, whom they called “the Americans,” protesting the abuses of their Siberian compatriots to the civil authorities in Irkutsk and St. Petersburg. Under house arrest for nearly a year, most of the monks either returned to Russia to report directly to the governor and Tsar, or moved out of harm’s way by relocating elsewhere. By 1812, Father Herman, one of the elders of the original delegation, had moved to Elovoi or Spruce Island and established a hermitage, a chapel, and later an orphanage there, three miles from the Kodiak settlement. Thanks to the linguistic talents of the Tsar’s personal representative, Priest-monk Gideon, the Kodiak parish operated the first bilingual school in the territory, teaching over a hundred Alutiiq children to pray, sing, read and write in their own language. Within a decade, ten thousand converts had been received into the Church.

Modern historians often ask why, if the Siberian frontiersmen in this early period so brutalized the Aleuts, they have remained so devoted to the Russian Orthodox Church. Part of the reason lies in the sympathetic and supportive stance of the original missionaries, their heroic defense of the Aleuts despite the hostility of the company administration and its employees. Another reason for the continued Aleut dedication to Orthodoxy is the identification of the mission with the indigenous culture and language, its willingness to use the aboriginal languages liturgically and to train local leadership for the church. But the most fundamental reasons are deeper, more theological, more spiritual.

Nine months after their arrival at Kodiak, Archimandrite Joseph, the head of the mission team, wrote a lengthy report to his igumen (abbot) back in Valaam, on Lake Ladoga from where the eight volunteers had been recruited. He detailed the religious beliefs of the Kodiak people, reporting that they already had many of the Ten Commandments of Moses in their spiritual tradition. They had a story of the Great Flood in the time of Noah. They believed that all people were descended from the same first parents, although they ascribed no names to them. In short, the missionary wrote, there is ample evidence that the Holy Spirit has been active among these people, and this should come as no surprise, since He goes wherever He wishes.

The Cosmic Gospel

This openness to the possibility, indeed the probability, that a so-called “pagan” culture would contain within itself certain fundamental truths which Christianity could and should affirm, echoes the most ancient attitude of the Church toward society. The Apostolic Church entered the Greco-Roman world of the first millennium AD, opposed in many essential ways to the values and worldview of that time, and yet willing to express its message in words and symbols intelligible to the people of that age. There is, in fact, no other choice. To communicate anything, one must employ a common vocabulary. The Church struggled for eight centuries to fill the original Greek words with Christian meanings, to redefine what the words themselves meant. Greek, for example, had such terms as “god,” “time,” “reason,” and “will,” but the Christian experience of these was radically different from what classical culture understood. Entering a culture in which the world was seen as a balance of conflicting forces without any over-all order or purpose, and in which, therefore human beings were left at the mercy of these capricious powers and had to control or manipulate them in order to survive, the Church had a tremendous missionary task. In the first nine centuries of the Christian era, she undertook to articulate her own worldview, in which the cosmos is governed by a supreme, transcendent, omnipotent and all-wise God. Christian saints denied the personal existence of the old pagan deities, but insisted that the “natural” forces they personified were, indeed, sacred realities, worthy not of worship, which is due God alone, but of reverence.

During the centuries called the “Dark Ages” in Western Europe history, the Eastern Christian Church dealt with many issues the Western Church is only now, belatedly, beginning to address. In the seventh century, for example, one of the central theological themes on the which Christian thinkers reflected was the spiritual importance of the created universe. John 3:16, for example, in the original Greek says “For God so loved the cosmos that He sent His Son…” Ephesians 3:9 refers to the mystery which had been hidden “in God who created all things by Jesus Christ,” who, according to Ephesians 1:23 “fills all in all.” Colossians 1:15-20 goes further:

For by him were all things created, that are in heaven and in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions or principalities or powers; all things were created by him and for him: He is before all things and by him all things consist; and he is the head of the body, the church: who is the beginning, the first born of the dead; that in all things he might have pre-eminence. For it pleased the Father than in him should all fullness dwell.

And, of course, the Paschal Gospel reading, John 1:1-17, proclaims a cosmic dimension to the coming of the Word made Flesh. In the eastern Christian tradition, the coming of Christ is not necessarily understood as the direct result of the Fall, of sin and evil. Adam and Eve were created to grow toward spiritual perfection and maturity, to develop in cooperation with God, and to nurture the earth according to His will and plan. Instead, they used their god-given and god-like freedom to develop in the opposite direction, with disastrous consequences for the whole creation. Even if they had not rejected their original purpose and goal, however, they could not have attained full spiritual maturity without God’s direct, Personal assistance. Christianity believes that while human cooperation and devotion is essential, it will never in itself be sufficient to fulfill all that God demands. His standards are higher than humanity can reach exclusively by their own perseverance or effort. Sin threw the whole process off track, but the incarnation, at least in the opinion of several ancient Greek saints, was part of the original divine plan all along.

Having refused to submit to God’s plan, however, human beings received the earth as His gift but exercised their dominion over it without reference to His will. Christ not only fulfills the Will of the Father, but reveals the “mystery hidden from all eternity,” namely that He is the unifying and vivifying Personal Principle from which everything and everyone derives their origin, life, and ultimate purpose. He is the logos, the Word, the Reason, the Plan and Purpose of “all things.”

Do the lilies of the field communicate a spiritual reality? Do the heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament His handiwork? Does “nature” have a spiritual importance? Yes, said the Eastern Church fourteen centuries ago. The Word of God is “embodied,” St. Maximus explained, first in the entire visible universe, then in the Holy Scriptures, and finally and most perfectly in Emmanuel, Jesus Christ, the Word made Flesh. But it is the same Logos, the same Word, the same Reason and Plan “embodied” each time. In the first “embodiment,” it is, as C.S. Lewis once wrote, as if the message were written in letters to large for us (in our fallen condition) to read. In the Old Testament law and prophets, the message becomes more intelligible and focused. And finally, in Christ, the “mystery hidden” is revealed.

Sacred Materialism

This vision, this understanding of the created universe required Eastern Christian missionaries to approach “pagan” spirituality with a good deal of openness and discernment. No, there is no god Zeus or goddess Athena, but the reverential attitude toward the sun, the sky, the earth, which these mythic deities were meant to promote can also be affirmed by the Church, once they are given their true name: Christ. He is the “Sun of the Righteous,” as the Christmas Troparion (theme hymn) proclaims. Those who worshipped the stars were taught, as the hymn continues, “by a star to adore thee…” On Epiphany, twelve days later, the faithful process to a nearby stream or seashore to perform the “Great Blessings of Water,” during which all the uses to which God has put Water in the Old Testament, and some of the prophesies about how He will continue to use it are read. These include the first creation of the world, (Genesis), the deliverance of the child Moses in the Nile, and later the Hebrew nation from Egyptian slavery by passing through the Red Sea (Exodus), Gideon’s fleece (Judges) and Elijah’s contest with the priests of Baal (I Kings) and Naaman’s cure (II Kings) as well as wonderful passages from Isaiah 12.

Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation. And in that day shall ye say, Praise the Lord, call upon His Name, declare His doings among the people… Sing unto the Lord; for He has done excellent things: this is known in all the earth.

The readings culminate with the Gospel account of Christ’s baptism, where, once again, the Spirit of God is on the face of the waters, this time to bless, renew and sanctify them, restoring them to what the whole creation was in Eden: a sign of God’s presence, power and love.

Eastern Christians believe in sacred materialism. God uses physical objects and visible elements to communicate with His People. The created universe is the means by which we enter into communion with Him. He chose food as the most perfect way by which to enter our lives. And what is the bread? Flour, yeast and water, baked to a certain temperature? No, it is much more, for to create bread, one needs the whole world. The earth must turn, the rain must fall, the soil must be fertile, the sun must shine, night must come, the wind blow. If all this is in harmony, and humans interact with it appropriately, tending the garden as God originally planned, bread can be baked, communion with God restored.

The pagans deified the fertility principle, named it Dionysius or Bacchus or a thousand other names. The wine harvest was their celebration of this life-affirming cosmic mystery. They were not entirely wrong. But they were mistaken about the identity of the Life-force they worshipped. It is all Christ. He chose to make water into wine as his first miracle, but He is always doing that, in every vineyard since time began. Some say this is merely physics and chemistry, the “laws of nature,” natural processes which operate without reference to any spiritual principle. Others say it is the work of fertility gods or goddesses who must be placated, appeased, worshipped or manipulated to assure future harvests. But for the Christian, it is all Christ, who only does the work He sees His Father do. The Word made Flesh only does in His Incarnate Form what the Word, embodied in the whole creation, has always done.

Cosmic salvation

Orthodox Christians are not pantheists, but they are pan-en-theists. The universe, taken as a whole, is not God, but He is “everywhere present and fills all things.” It is His will, His presence, His power that creates and sustains everything and everyone at any given time. Creation is not only an event in the distant past but the reality of each passing moment. “Grace” is not a supernatural substance, “amazing” or otherwise, transmitted to the otherwise graceless world by certain religious actions or under certain liturgical circumstances, but the very energies, the action of God in the world. All is Grace.

In Alaska the Valaam monks reported that the Aleuts believed that the life force which animated the sea mammals they hunted was a sacred reality which had to be treated reverentially. Their Eskimo and Indian neighbors to the north and east shared this belief. The Church could affirm rather than condemn this humble, respectful attitude toward life, for Christ is the life of all things, not just all people. The Church blesses by putting His Name, proclaiming His sovereignty, not just over human life, but over the entire cosmos. It is at this deeper, essentially spiritual level, that the Christian Gospel, proclaimed and celebrated liturgically and sacramentally within Eastern Orthodoxy, converged with the pre-Christian spiritual tradition of ancient Alaska. Christ comes not to condemn but to save the world, and this salvation is a cosmic process inaugurated on Pentecost, continuing to the end of the age, and fulfilled only in the Second Coming, when He comes not to annihilate but to renew, purify, sanctify the world He so loves.

This is the Good News the Russian monks brought to Alaska two hundred years ago. Their message affirmed all that was “true, honest, just, pure, lovely and of good report” (Phillipians 4) and sought to introduce Christianity as the fulfillment rather than the destruction of what the people had always believed. When, thirty two years later, Father John Veniaminov and Aleut Chief Ivan Pan’kov translated the Gospel of Matthew into Aleut, literacy became a popular sensation. Literate, educated Aleuts assumed responsibility for and leadership positions in the Church decades before the sale of the Alaskan territory to the United States in 1867. Rather than casting off the supposedly “imposed” religion of their former oppressors, the Aleuts joyfully took the initiative of evangelizing Eskimo and Indian tribes on the mainland. The Alaskan Church grew from less than a dozen chapels at the time of the transfer to nearly a hundred today, thanks primarily to Aleut missionary outreach. An indigenous Alaskan Orthodox Church was born.

Identifying with, suffering with and for their flock, respecting their languages, cultural norms and ancient spirituality, educating them in the ways of the Gospel, preparing them to take responsibility for their Church all contributed to the success of the Alaskan Orthodox mission. Perhaps most importantly, however, was the theological vision and liturgical celebration of a positive experience of the created universe as fundamental to Christian spirituality. In an age where many are seeking a religious tradition that will integrate their reawakened ecological sensitivity into a comprehensive spiritual vision, Eastern Orthodoxy alone offers a Christian alternative to the various gnostic/”new age” movements which attract them in large numbers. The mission of the Church includes but also extends beyond the conversion of human persons to a liturgical/doctrinal/ethical system or code. It extends beyond the building of church structures, temples, schools, seminaries or the publishing of theological books and spiritually-oriented periodicals. It extends beyond the celebration of services, the valid administration of sacraments, beyond preaching, teaching, converting and forgiving. The mission of the Church extends to the whole created universe, to the sanctification of the cosmos in the Name of its originator, sustainer and goal, Jesus Christ who comes to “make all things new” not just at the end of time but now, here, today. That process began at the Jordan and continues in the Church after Pentecost, in all the years Anno Domini, “of the Lord.” The so-called “onion” domes on Slavic Orthodox churches have nothing to do with vegetables: they are the tongues of fire, the presence of the Holy Spirit and His Gifts in this world, renewing, blessing and transfiguring it. The mission of Orthodoxy in America and everywhere constitutes the continuation in time and space of that dynamic Sacred Presence.

To accomplish this whole, this complete, this “catholic” missionary task, our theologians must articulate the cosmic understanding, the faith and practice of the ancient undivided church in terms intelligible to people from all nations, backgrounds and all religious, non-religious and even anti-religious traditions. Our parish clergy and people must celebrate this vision with a common understanding of what their leitourgia, their work-on-behalf-of-the-world, really is: “on behalf of everyone and for every thing.” It is only with this cosmic vision, this full comprehension of what the Church is actually doing, the purpose and goal for which she exists, that all the various other educational, sacramental, liturgical, and charitable activities become worthwhile, meaningful, worthy of allegiance, dedication and sacrifice.

It was in that spirit that the first Orthodox missionaries came to Alaska two centuries ago. It is in that spirit that we, individually sinful and unworthy, must collectively, as the Holy Church, continue their work into the next millennium. There is, indeed, a plan, a purpose, a goal to the created universe, and it is all Christ. We can conform our lives to Him and thus live in harmony with that all-embracing Plan, the pre-eternal Logos or not. We will be judged accordingly. And we can include within that vision, by blessing and sanctifying it, all that was made in Him and through Him and for Him, or we can exploit, destroy, pollute and desecrate the cosmos which He so loves. And we will be judged for that as well.

The Very Rev. Dr. Michael J. Oleksa, Th.D., currently pastor of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church, and outreach coordinator for Sealaksa Heritage Foundation, has served as missionary priest, bilingual school teacher, university history professor and seminary instructor in rural Alaskan communities over the last twenty two years. A graduate of St. Vladimir’s Seminary (1973) and the Orthodox Theological Faculty of Prague (1988), he is editor of Alaskan Missionary Spirituality (Paulist Press, Mahwah, NJ, 1987) and Orthodox Alaska (SVS Press, Crestwood, NY, 1992), for which his Yup’ik Eskimo wife, Xenia, a watercolorist, created the cover. The family which includes two daughters and two sons resides in Juneau, Alaska.

— Faith in Action —

Fanning the Flame of Christian Witness and Service

Set our hearts on fire with love of Thee, O Christ our God, that in its flame we may love Thee with all our heart, with all our mind, with all our soul, and with all our strength — and so lover our neighbors as ourselves, so that thus keeping Thy commandments, we may glorify Thee, the Giver of all good gifts.

Fr. Sergei, in his wonderful and inspiring keynote address yesterday, shared this prayer with us. I asked that it be printed up and distributed today, so that we all may take it and incorporate it in our own daily Rule of Prayer — and share it with the rest of the parish community at home.

There are three individuals who I would like to mention at the outset — and ask their intercessions for this talk and for our whole conference.

The first is a saint who was commemorated just two Sundays ago (July 17): the very dearly-beloved St. Elizabeth the New-martyr. After her husband was assassinated in 1905, St. Elizabeth devoted her whole life to charitable and pious diakonia / service / ministry. She was of royal lineage and was blessed with financial stability. She entered the monastic life and when she was tonsured, Elizabeth told her sisters, “I am leaving the brilliant world where I have occupied a lofty position. And now, together with all of you, I am about to ascend to a much greater world, the world of the poor and afflicted.” Her stewardship of financial wealth was bestowed heavily upon the Church in that (among other things) she saw to the establishment of a diakonia which she and Patriarch St. Tikhon felt should be placed under the heavenly patronage of Ss. Martha and Mary. The convent had a clinic, a hospital, an orphanage, a school for illiterate women, a soup kitchen for the poor, and a place for poor women laborers to live. The nuns visited the poor in the slums and were trained in the qualities needed to prepare the terminally-ill for eternal life. Abbess Elizabeth was known to sleep very little. She spent most of each day and night in work and prayer. She instructed the nuns, nursed the wounded, fed the hungry, administered the community and visited many people in need. Reaching out to the poor, the lonely, the addicted, the sick and the destitute, St. Elizabeth and her Sisters of the Convent of Mercy became an important (and very valuable) charitable, medical and spiritual witness to the world.

The second individual is a saint who was commemorated just this past Sunday (July 25): St. Olympiada the Deaconess of Constantinople. At age 18 she was widowed — just two weeks after having married. She was ordained a deaconess soon after becoming a widow. In the 5th century a deaconess was a full-time church worker, assisting the bishop in the baptism of women, visiting Christian women in their homes, managing the charitable work of the Church, and tending to the pastoral and spiritual needs of the women in the Church. Her charity knew few bounds. St. John Chrysostom compared her charitable acts to a river that is accessible to all and whose waters flow over the earth and eventually into the ocean. The most distant towns, isles and deserts received plentiful supplies from Olympiada. She bought whole estates and gave them to destitute churches so that they would receive the revenue as income. St John Chrysostom asked her to moderate her charity — or at least be more cautious and reserved in bestowing it — so that she might be able to help many others in greater need. Olympiada had at her disposal vast amounts of wealth — inherited from her very high-ranking and powerful family. She saw to it that the poor, jobless, sick and lonely were housed in her hostels. She established clinics, bread lines and soup kitchens. She was continually on the streets seeking out those in need. Her diakonia was not simply a liturgical one (though it did include that), but she was known more for her life and witness among the down and out. Not surprisingly, St. John Chrysostom (who is known for his continual concern for the poor) came to regard her with great love and respect.

The third saint is one who was only recently glorified: St. Marie Skobstova of Paris. Her martyrdom is commemorated each year on March 31. St. Marie, upon entering the monastic life — and an avant-garde monasticism it was: Metropolitan Evlogy declared that hers was a new monasticism, and that her monastery was the streets of Paris. “The way to God lies through love of people. We should not give away a single piece of bread unless the recipient means something as a person for us. The monastic life is nothing if it is not the incarnation of love for God and for the neighbor.” St. Marie’s most famous statement sums it all up: “At the last judgment I will not be asked if I was successful in my ascetic practices; if I made all the prescribed prostrations during the prayers of Great Lent. Rather, I will be asked: ‘Did you feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and prisoner?’ That is all that I shall be asked. The Savior says ‘I’ about every poor, hungry and imprisoned person. To think that the Savior puts an equal sign between Himself and anyone in need fills me with awe.” It was the diakonia of hospitality and relief to anybody who came to her (or who she could find) who was in need. Unlike the first two saints, just mentioned, St. Marie of Paris was not wealthy. Nonetheless, she had the gift of providing for those in need by pulling-together what resources and benefactors she could find. During the years of World War II, her hospitality extended to all Parisians: Christian, Jew or otherwise. The Nazis once came to her and asked if she were harboring any Jews in her house (which on and off was definitely the case). She took them to the chapel and pointed to the icon of the Theotokos and Child. “Here are the Jews we harbor in this house.” Marie was eventually arrested and taken to Ravensbrük and after a long period of forced labor and starvation, sent to the gas chamber — only days before the allied forces liberated the place (1945).

Each of these wonderful saints are living icons for us all this week. May we, through their example and intercessions, assist us in our own martyria (witness) and diakonia ministry and service).

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I’d like to review some of the scriptural texts we’ve been mentioning this week. I’ve printed them out and hope that you will take them home and use them for a Bible Study in your parishes — a Bible Study centered around the theme of Christian Witness and Service.

The text first comes from the very end of St. Matthew’s Gospel. We hear this at Sunday Matins every eleven weeks. We hear it proclaimed at every baptism. We hear it (and a little bit more) at the Divine Liturgy on Holy Saturday every year. It is the Church’s Mission Statement. (“Mission” comes from the Latin missa which means “to send off.”)

We hear of “mission statements” for various church ministries or organizations. This is the basic (and in many ways, only) mission statement of the Christian life.

Matthew 28:16-20
16: Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. 17: And when they saw him they worshiped him; but some doubted. 18: And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19: Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20: teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age.”

Note four terms: go, make disciples, baptize, teach, observe the commandments. These are the last instructions of the Lord before His ascension. These are our own marching orders.

In order to continue the diakonia of Christ in the world, we are called to be fellow-workers with Him. St. Paul writes:

Colossians 4:11
…my fellow-workers for the kingdom of God…have been a comfort to me.

Galatians 3:27
For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.

Galatians 2:20
I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

St. Paul tells us that we are immersed into the very Person of Christ. We clothe ourselves in Christ. We become a body-part of Christ. We share in His Life. We enter into communion with Him. (Fellowship is the usual translation. But this is a weak term. The word koinonia in Greek means communion.)

It is said that St. Gregory the Theologian once wrote (and I can’t find the reference, I’m sorry) that we are called to be chirst — “christ with a small ‘c’” — that is, we are anointed to be His presence in the world. We don’t become the Christ. We remain who we are. Peter is Peter. Paul is Paul. I am me, and you are you. But here is the mystical paradox: when I am immersed in Christ and it is Christ living in me, I am transformed and transfigured and become a completely new person. I do not loose my own God-given personhood. I am not caught up into some sort of “world soul” of the Supreme Being, losing my identity in some sort of “ONE (so-called) Christ Consciousness.” But Christ “ones” me to Himself. I am “oned in Him.” I am one of His body parts in the world. Recall the oft-quoted patristic maxim: “God became a human person (by nature) so that human persons could become divine (by grace).”

So, being incorporate into Christ (i.e., made into a body-part of His Body) — in cooperating with Christ as his fellow-worker (the Greek is synergia), we continue his diakonia. What is it that He would have us do? By going, making disciples, teaching and observing His commandments — and His commandments will be discussed in just a bit — the commandments found in the 25th chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel.

Body of Christ. This brings to mind the awesome concept of “eucharistic ecclesiology” taught so well by Fr. Alexander Schmemann. This is sometimes called “Ignatian ecclesiology,” (after the 1st / 2nd century martyr, St. Ignatius of Antioch), or even “communion ecclesiology.” St. Ignatius wrote to a number of church communities while on his way to Rome for trial and eventual martyrdom. He wrote to those communities that he would soon visit or those that he had just visited en route. In his letters we find the description of what the Church was like. His description shows us the bishop, surrounded by his deacons, in turn surrounded by the council of presbyters, in turn surrounded by the laity — all in concentric circles — AS they celebrated the Holy Mysteries of the Eucharist. Quite a different model from the Germanic / Frankish model we’ve all learned in Junior High School history: the feudalistic pyramidal system of king, noble, merchant, serf — which was superimposed upon the Western Church: pope, bishop, priest, laity. This would never work (at least in theory and in ideal) in the Christian East where our model is the Ignatian / Eucharistic ecclesiology of the local Church.

Body of Christ. Fr. Alexander Schmemann begins his classic book, For the Life of the World with these words — quoting a German philosopher: “You are what you eat.” Augustine of Hippo once used this statement in relation to the Holy Mysteries of Communion: “Christ says: You will not change me into yourself as you would food of your flesh; but you will be changed into me.” At the Eucharist, we partake of the Body of Christ which empowers us (and “empowers” is OUR word, not the New-Agers) to BE the Body of Christ in the world. Fr. Alexander often said that it is at the Eucharist where the Church becomes what she is. Her very essence is revealed in the celebration of the Holy Mysteries of the Body and Blood of the Lord Jesus.

Let me read you some words from the final chapter of another book by Fr. Alexander: Liturgy and Life.

“Communion is the sacrament of the Kingdom. Communion is given to me personally in order to transform me into a member [i.e., body part] of Christ….the Divine Liturgy is the act through which the Church fulfills her true nature. In it the visible community are changed into the Church, the Body of Christ.”

We’ll come back to the verbal icon of the Body of Christ in just a bit.

Now, let’s look at the First Epistle of the Holy Apostle Paul to the Corinthians.

1 Corinthians 12:4-11
4: Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; 5: and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; 6: and there are varieties of working, but it is the same God who inspires them all in every one. 7: To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. 8: To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, 9: to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, 10: to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the ability to distinguish between spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. 11: All these are inspired by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills.

The list of charismata (i.e., charisms, grace and gifts; diakonia, ministries and services) from this section and sections to follow can be found at the end of this paper.St. Paul enumerates a number of ministries here. There are more to come. But first, let’s go back to the image of the Body of Christ:

1 Corinthians 12:12-21
12: For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13: For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body — Jews or Greeks, slaves or free — and all were made to drink of one Spirit. 14: For the body does not consist of one member but of many. 15: If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body.16: And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 17: If the whole body were an eye, where would be the hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? 18: But as it is, God arranged the organs in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 19: If all were a single organ, where would the body be? 20: As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. 21: The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” …

1 Corinthians 12:25-26
…25: that there may be no discord in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. 26: If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.

We now return to the ministries. He gives us both some of the previous charisms but new ones as well:

1 Corinthians 12:27-30
27: Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. 28: And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, then healers, helpers [performers of helpful acts], administrators, speakers in various kinds of tongues. 29: Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? 30: Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak with tongues? Do all interpret? 31: But earnestly desire the higher gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way….

Below, in the Epistle to the Ephesians, St. Paul uses a word that, in the RSV, here, is translated “epuip.” Alternative translations, more precise, are “prepare,” “train,” “make qualified,” “to set (as in a broken bone),” and “knit.” Much stronger imagery than simply to outfit with equipment.

We keep running into the words “favor,” “grace” and “gift,” together with “service” and “ministry.” We’ll see them again, soon. Let’s look at Ephesians.

Ephesians 4:7, 11-13
7: But grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift. 8: Therefore it is said, “When he ascended on high he led a host of captives, and he gave gifts to men.” 9: (In saying, “He ascended,” what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower parts of the earth? 10: He who descended is he who also ascended far above all the heavens, that he might fill all things.) 11: And his gifts were that some should be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, 12: to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, 13: until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ…

I want now to introduce two more concepts — stewardship and talents. Stewards were put in charge of the property of the Master. Talents were originally measures of weight and later a monetary unit. This word has passed into the English language as a term for abilities or natural endowments.

Luke 12:48
48b: Every one to whom much is given, of him will much be required; and of him to whom men commit much they will demand the more.

Compare this with a similar statement at the end of this next passage.

Matthew 25:14-30
14: “For it will be as when a man going on a journey called his servants and entrusted tot hem his property; 15: to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. 16: He who had received the five talents went at once and traded with them; and he made five talents more. 17: So also, he who had the two talents made two talents more. 18: But he who had received the one talent went and dug in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19: Now after a long time the master of those servants came and settled accounts with them. 20: And he who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five talents more, saying, `Master, you delivered to me five talents; here I have made five talents more.’ 21: His master said to him, `Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master.’ 22: And he also who had the two talents came forward, saying, `Master, you delivered to me two talents; here I have made two talents more.’ 23: His master said to him, `Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master.’ 24: He also who had received the one talent came forward, saying, `Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not winnow; 25: so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ 26: But his master answered him, `You wicked and slothful servant! You knew that I reap where I have not sowed, and gather where I have not winnowed? 27: Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest. 28: So take the talent from him, and give it to him who has the ten talents. 29: For to every one who has will more be given, and he will have abundance; but from him who has not, even what he has will be taken away. 30: And cast the worthless servant into the outer darkness; there men will weep and gnash their teeth.’

One translation labels the servant as a “worthless, lazy lout.” It makes more sense to us in today’s world, but it doesn’t quite sound right if chanted during Liturgy when this Gospel passage is appointed. These passages speak for themselves regarding our own place in ministry. May the Lord keep us from being barren fig tree branches that he curses and causes to wither and die. May the Lord keep us from being lukewarm like the Laodiceans, and being spewed (literally vomited) from his mouth and into the gutter or drain. May the Lord keep us from being cast into the outer darkness because we bury our talent, our vocation, our ministry, rather than “going and doing” it.

Next we come to another passage from St. Matthew. This sobering message we hear each year just before Great Lent. It is also the passage to which St. Marie of Paris referred regarding her own ministry, quoted earlier.

Matthew 25:31-4631:
“When the Son of man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. 32: Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, 33: and he will place the sheep at his right hand, but the goats at the left. 34: Then the King will say to those at his right hand, `Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; 35: for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36: I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ 37: Then the righteous will answer him, `Lord, when did we see thee hungry and feed thee, or thirsty and give thee drink? 38: And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee? 39: And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee?’ 40: And the King will answer them, `Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’ 41: Then he will say to those at his left hand, `Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; 42: for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, 43: I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ 44: Then they also will answer, `Lord, when did we see thee hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to thee?’ 45: Then he will answer them, `Truly, I say to you, as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.’ 46: And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

Jesus identifies with the one in need. He became naked. He was thirsty. He was arrested and imprisoned. He was wounded and even became a stranger — all during His Passion — for us and for our salvation; for the life of the world. So, in fact He not only identifies “spiritually” or in solidarity with the “least,” but He becomes as they are. St. Gregory the Theologian once said (and this time I have the reference — it is his First Homily on Pascha):

Let us become like Christ, since Christ became like us. Let us become God’s for His sake, since He for ours became Man. He assumed the worse that He might give us the better; He became poor that we through His poverty might be rich; He took upon Him the form of a servant that we might receive back our liberty; He came down that we might be exalted; He was tempted that we might conquer; He was dishonored that He might glorify us; He died that He might save us; He ascended that He might draw to Himself us, who were lying low in the Fall of sin. Let us give all, offer all, to Him Who gave Himself a Ransom and a Reconciliation for us. But one can give nothing like oneself, understanding the Mystery, and becoming for His sake all that He became for ours.

Fyodor Dostoevsky tells a story in Part 3, Book 7, Chapter 3 of The Brothers Karamazov. Its significance speaks for itself.

Once upon a time there was a peasant woman and a very wicked woman she was. And she died and did not leave a single good deed behind. The devils caught her and plunged her into the lake of fire. So her guardian angel stood and wondered what good deed of hers he could remember to tell to God; ‘She once pulled up an onion in her garden,’ said he, ‘and gave it to a beggar woman.’ And God answered: ‘You take that onion then, hold it out to her in the lake, and let her take hold and be pulled out. And if you can pull her out of the lake, let her come to Paradise, but if the onion breaks, then the woman must stay where she is.’ The angel ran to the woman and held out the onion to her. ‘Come,’ said he, ‘catch hold and I’ll pull you out.’ he began cautiously pulling her out. He had just pulled her right out, when the other sinners in the lake, seeing how she was being drawn out, began catching hold of her so as to be pulled out with her. But she was a very wicked woman and she began kicking them. ‘I’m to be pulled out, not you. It’s my onion, not yours.’ As soon as she said that, the onion broke. And the woman fell into the lake and she is burning there to this day. So the angel wept and went away.

Recall the command of the Savior: teach them all that I have commanded you. And His command is that we do to the least of the brethren.

Now, let’s turn to a text from Acts of the Holy Apostles. (The title of this book is not insignificant, by the way — action, service, ministry.)

Acts 2:1-41:
When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2: And suddenly a sound came from heaven like the rush of a mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. 3: And there appeared to them tongues as of fire, distributed and resting on each one of them. 4: And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.

And now this:

1 Peter 2:9:
9: But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood [a kingdom of priests], a holy nation, God’s own people, that you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.

The ordination rite for the royal priesthood is Chrismation. Chrismation is our personal incorporation into the Pentecost event. No less than the Apostles in the Upper Room on that 50th day after the Lord’s Pascha, you and I and all who receive the holy chrism are given (and sealed with) the Holy Spirit. Maybe ours was not as dramatic as that which occurred nearly 2000 years ago, but it is no less effective and empowering.

Those words again: grace, favor, gift, carism. Fr. Sergei Glagolev, in his wonderful talk yesterday said that Chrismation ordains us “to live Christ’s ministry and to be His presence on the earth.”

Fr. Sergei also talked about the “ordination” of the Holy Prophet Isaiah. Here is the text in full.

Isaiah 6:1-9a:
1: In the year that King Uzzi’ah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and his train filled the temple. 2: Above him stood the seraphim; each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. 3: And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” 4: And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. 5: And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” 6: Then flew one of the seraphim to me, having in his hand a burning coal which he had taken with tongs from the altar. 7: And he touched my mouth, and said: “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin forgiven.” 8: And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here am I! Send me.” 9: And he said, “Go, and say….”

This will take a little explanation — about the descriptive makeup of the celestial temple of which the likes of Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel and St. John the Theologian were given visions and the glowing coal from the altar as an image of Holy Communion — a foreshadowing and a type.

First, the Lord has revealed His archetypical celestial temple to the likes of Moses, certain of the prophets and the Beloved Disciple. Their description of what they saw gives us the plan first of the Tabernacle in the Wilderness, then of the Temple in Jerusalem, and finally of the usual architectural scheme for an Orthodox church. The Outer Court of Gentiles corresponds with the narthex. Court of Women and Court of Israel corresponds with the nave. The Court of Priests, the Sanctuary (or Holy Place) and the Inner Holy of Holies corresponds with the Altar area. Here we find foreshadowing and a fulfillment — prototype and an antitype. Here we find a continuity yet a discontinuity between the Original form and the earthly example. The altar from which the seraph’s coal came was the celestial altar of holocaust — the 12-foot by 12-foot by 12-foot cubical altar of burnt offering. (Though the smaller altar of incense could also be considered here.) It was on the altar’s bed of red-hot coals that the sacrificial lamb (or incense) was burnt, completely consumed and reduced to an offering of sweet-smelling fragrance, rising where it could be received into the very presence of God. (It is no accident that in many of our churches, our altar tables are constructed in cubical form.)

Secondly, when at the Divine Liturgy the celebrant receives the Mysteries of Holy Communion, he is directed to quietly proclaim, “Behold, this has touched my lips, and shall take away my iniquities, and cleanse my sins.” In a prayer of preparation for Holy Communion attributed to St. John Chrysostom, we read, “Let the fiery coal of Your most pure Body and Your most precious Blood bring me sanctification, enlightenment and strengthening of my soul and body…” Recall also the image of the Burning Bush which was aflame, yet not consumed — aglow with the uncreated light and fire of God’s love and presence. The imagery of fire and light could go on and on, but I suspect you get the idea. It is the act of receiving the celestial coal that purified and empowered the prophet for his diakonia. It is the act of receiving the Bread of Heaven that purifies and empowers us for our diakonia. We’ll discuss the idea of the Liturgy after the Liturgy in a bit.

Now let’s look at the following passage from the Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans where the Apostle discusses not only body parts, but charism and ministry as well.

Romans 12:4-13
4: For as in one body we have many members, and all the members do not have the same function, 5: so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. 6: Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; 7: if service, in our serving; he who teaches, in his teaching; 8: he who exhorts, in his exhortation; he who contributes, in liberality; he who gives aid, with zeal; he who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness. 9: Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; 10: love one another with brotherly affection; outdo one another in showing honor. 11: Never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord. 12: Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. 13: Contribute to the needs of the saints, practice hospitality.

“Members [i.e., body parts} one of another…grace [ charisma]… service [ diakonia]…acts of mercy…love…aglow with the Spirit [more literally rendered, “burning in / with the Spirit].” The connection here with what has been said before is obvious and of major importance.

I would like to now show the video distributed in 1997 by the Orthodox Church in America, entitled “Our Part in God’s Plan.” It outlines the many ministries of the Church and how we can discern our own diakonia within the body. Though, for our purposes this video is a little heavy on the seminary and clerical side, it does highlight EVERYbody’s vocation to witness and ministry within the Royal Priesthood….

…Discerning our part in the Priestly Kingdom. In Leviticus 19:2 and 20:7 we read that we are called by God (i.e., our common vocation is) to “be holy” because God is holy. In this respect, we are all called to the priesthood that offers God’s gift to us of the cosmos back to Him. St. Maximus the Confessor and others often discuss the idea of priestly diakonia as the vocation of all Christians — baptism, chrismation and Holy Communion being our ordination rites. The human person is both a microcosm (a creature wherein the whole cosmos is epitomized, recapitulated or summed-up) and a mediator (the royal priest). We are called by God to continue His work of transfiguring chaos to cosmos and (by cooperating with His charisma / grace) transforming the fallen world into the Kingdom. That is our witness. That is our service or ministry.

We are all called by God (i.e., our common vocation is) to be holy as God is holy, but He gives us all an individual calling (a specific vocation) to a particular diakonia. 1 Corinthians 12; Ephesians 4; Romans 12 all help us differentiate the specific possible ministries God has assigned. The trick is discerning our particular call.

Many people believe that priestly or monastic vocation is higher or better than that of the laity. St. Anthony of the Desert is credited with the following: Upon emerging from an extended period of seclusion, prayer, mystical union with God, he was given many insights. One of them was that the eremitic (i.e., hermit) way of life was no less important and worthy as the way of life in the city. He said that there was a physician in the city of Alexandria who was doing no-less vital and vocational work among the people “in the world” than the monk does in the desert. This is a lesson that is sadly too often lost on folks who are drawn to religious clericalism as the way to God. For some, yes. But not for all. The lesson we learn from St. Anthony is exactly what we are about at this conference this week. Discernment is a vital role in the pastoral ministry of the ordained presbyter. He is called by God to assist in each person’s discernment process and then he is called to assist in equipping each person “to do.” We should all pray for our pastors and arch-pastors daily.

We spoke earlier of “Eucharistic ecclesiology.” It is at the celebration of the Holy Eucharist where the Church becomes what she is. It is in partaking of the Holy Mysteries of the Body and Blood of the Savior that the Church is actualized to become the Body of Christ in the world. The Prophet Isaiah received the coal from the altar and then went out and prophesied. We (after being united to the Holy Mysteries) are to go out and do our diakonia.

This is called the Liturgy after the Liturgy: the public service after the public service; the common work after the common work; the work of the people after the work of the people.

Fr. Alexander Schmemann writes that the Church as the sacrament of the Kingdom — the gift of the Kingdom; the presence of the Kingdom; the promise of the Kingdom, the reality of the Kingdom and the anticipation of the Kingdom — is the source of all Christian mission. “It is only as we return from the Light and Joy of Christ’s presence that we recover the world as a meaningful field of Christian action — that we see the reality of the world and see what we must do. It is today (after receiving Holy Communion) that I am sent back into the world in Joy and Peace, having seen the true Light. A Christian is one who wherever he looks, finds Christ and rejoices in Him. And this joy transforms all human plans and programs, decisions and actions — making all his/her mission . It is the sacrament of the world’s return to Him Who is the Life of the World.” ( For the Life of the World, p. 113)

One last note. Very few of us are prone to diakonia. Ministry (i.e., Matthew 25) doesn’t come easy. This is one of the effects of the Fall. For most, we do these things “kicking and screaming” because the spirit may be willing, but the flesh is weak.

St. Maximus the Confessor described something called the “natural” will and the “gnomic” will. The natural will is the human will endowed by God within Adam and Eve. It is the original will created by God and bestowed on the human person that draws one to progress (in cooperation with God) in an upward direction to Union with Him ( theosis) — aligning human will with divine will and thus having a union of wills as we see in the person of the Theotokos: “Be it unto me according to your (and thus God’s) will.”

As a result of free will — that is, being given the possibility to choose rather than to simply be programmed — another will existed. This is what St. Maximus called “gnomic” will. It is characterized by hesitation, by self-willfulness, by a downward move away from God. Gnomic will is what all humanity has inherited from Adam and Eve’s disobedience. It is this gnomic tendency that manifests itself in not being prone to godly martyria and diakonia (or much else that is for our salvation, for that manner). It is gnomic will that is the effect of the Fall. It is gnomic will that can be credited with the fact that most of us do God’s will, but do so “kicking and screaming.”

Bishop Kallistos Ware has commented that since doing God’s will does not come easy for most, we must make ourselves do it. We must force ourselves to do what we know the Lord desires. Not in some sort of self-propelled Pelagian manner, pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps, but rather by cooperating with the charisma (i.e., grace) of God — being a fellow-worker with Him. We must forcefully pursue what the Lord wills so that eventually it will become habitual and normal behavior.

In Matthew 11:12 we read that the Kingdom suffers violence and that the violent take the kingdom by force. This is a difficult saying of the Savior. It is variously interpreted. One interpretation is that those who truly seek the Kingdom must forcefully pursue it, since it does not come easy to those of us in the fallen world, having received the wages of sin from our original ancestors. “By force.” “Forcefully pursue.” And this is what asceticism is all about. We willfully, sacrificially do things that are not “natural” in the fallen world (but which would actually be very “natural” in the original — Maximian — plan).

For you and me at this conference, this means that we must (by cooperating with the grace of God) forcefully pursue the diakonia spelled-out in Matthew 25 and in 1 Corinthians, Ephesians and Romans and in other places as well.

Through the example and intercessions of Ss. Elizabeth the new-Martyr, Olympiada the Deaconess of Constantinople, Marie of Paris, Gregory the Theologian, Ignatius of Antioch, the Holy Prophets Isaiah, Ezekiel and Daniel, John the Theologian, Anthony of Egypt, Maximus the Confessor, and all the saints — may we with our hearts set on fire by the Holy Spirit of God discern our talents, go and do the martyria and diakonia that is our vocation in the priestly Kingdom. Amen.

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Here is a summary of the various charisms and ministries in the Church, as described in St. Paul and in the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom.

1 Corinthians 12

teachers
healers
workers of wonders/ signs/ miracles
prophetic insight
discernment/ distinguishing spirits
speakers in tongues / languages
interpretation
apostolic work
helpers
administrators/ guidance

Ephesians 4

(apostles)
evangelists
pastors
(teachers)

Romans 12

(prophetic insight)
(teachers)
exhortation/ encouraging
givers/ contributors
acts/ works of mercy

St. John Chrysostom

(anaphora)
ancestors
fathers
patriarchs
(apostles)
(prophets)
(teachers)
(evangelists)
martyrs
confessors
ascetics

… and every spirit made perfect in faith

A great cloud of witnesses but few “mystics”

The Christian Orient is widely considered to be a “mystical” church; one enfolded in mystery and awe and whose tradition undoubtedly affirms the possibility of mystical experience, mystical union or mystical vision. Orthodox theology is often referred to as mystical theology. Baptism, Chrismation, Holy Eucharist, etc., are all called Sacramental Mysteries. But in Eastern Christian circles, the term “mystic” is seldom used to designate a specific category of sanctity.

There are, however, a number of traditional designations given to those whom the Church has glorified¹ as saints. Above all is the Theotokos and ever-Virgin, Mary who stands in a category all her own. Then come the prophets, the apostles, the hierarchs, the martyrs, the monastics, the un-mercenary physicians and wonderworkers – added to these are individuals who are variously ranked as ancestors, fathers, mothers, patriarchs, evangelists, confessors, ascetics, holy fools for Christ’s sake and “every righteous spirit made perfect in faith” (Chrysostom 16, 19, 68). Additionally, the term “Theologian” or even “New Theologian” must be added to this list. These latter terms could even be our version of what the Christian West calls a “mystic.” “Mystics” and “Theologians” could possibly be the same sort of people. St. Gregory Palamas (+1359) fervently affirmed that (as opposed to knowledge about God, i.e., “school theology”) the only authentic knowledge of God can come from personal, “mystical” (i.e., unitive) experience: “Supernatural union and resplendent light are the sole source of sure theology” (Gregory Palamas, Triads, 1:3:15). “Theologia,” is the same as “theoria” or “natural contemplation:” the imageless contemplation of God Himself. This in turn can lead to theosis: “We shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” (1 Jn. 3:2) And theosis is “mystical union.” Evagrius of Pontus (+ 399) is credited with having said that “A true theologian is one who truly prays.”

Manifestations of unitive encounter with God and creation

Mystical experience can be described in a number of ways: visions, revelations, union with God, union with the cosmos, bathed in the radiance of God’s uncreated light, clairvoyance, prophecy, discernment², levitation, healing, etc. These manifestations can (and often do) lead many to seek from the one who manifests them spiritual fatherhood and spiritual motherhood (Clément 311).

When reading Eastern Christian literature, one may occasionally encounter the classification of “mystic” but this title is usually found in conjunction with other descriptive characterizations of the person. A few such “mystics” come to mind: St. Anthony the Great, St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Macrina, Pseudo-Dionysius, St. Mary of Egypt, St. Maximus the Confessor, St. Symeon the New Theologian, St. Gregory Palamas, St. Sergius of Radonezh, St. Seraphim of Sarov, among others, were known to have had “mystical experiences.”

St. Anthony the Great (+356) emerged from a 20-year period of solitude imbued with the light, peace and power of the Holy Spirit, “his face radiant with joy” (Clément 311). St. Gregory of Nyssa (+395) is primarily noted as a hierarch and metaphysic teacher. His mystical theology is one – though arguably the most important – of many characteristics for which he is noteworthy. Gregory’s sister, St. Macrina (+380) is known best as a spiritual mother and nun; a teacher, an exegete and even – in Gregory’s own words – “the ideal Christian.” Her mystical experiences are generally considered to be secondary to her role as mentor to (and glory of) her family. Pseudo-Dionysius (c. 500) is considered a “mystic” per se due to the emphasis in his writings on purification, illumination and union. He concern is mystical union and deification – emphasized by the recurring themes of “brilliant light of divine darkness” and knowing God through unknowing. Although she is reported to have manifested the wonderworking charismata of clairvoyance, discernment, prophecy, levitation and was even accorded some sacerdotal standing, St. Mary of Egypt (5th century) is better known as the quintessential icon of repentance – a model for all Christians. St. Maximus the Confessor (+662) constantly meditated on Holy Scripture. This became for him the very act of mystical contemplation and “served as the vehicle and medium for all his thought” (von Balthasar 54). The poetic hymns of St. Symeon the New Theologian (+1022) reveal a very personal note. He was given the gift of deification. This won him the title of being called the Mystic of Fire and Light. St. Gregory Palamas (+1359) is considered a Hesychast³, (which could be similar to what it means to be a “mystic”), but he is better known as a chief Byzantine defender against scholastic theology. St. Sergius of Radonezh (b. 1314) founded a number of monasteries in Russia. The Uncreated Light of God often surrounded him during the celebration of the Divine Liturgy. St. Seraphim of Sarov (+ 1833) has been called the greatest saint in Russian history. He spent 20 years in seclusion but during the final 8 years of his life he opened the doors of his enclosure. He identified the purpose of the Christian life as the “acquisition of the Holy Spirit.” There are others whose biographies or writings reveal mystical experience, but these represent some of the major figures.

A serious gap

Dr. Susan Ashbrook-Harvey (Director of Graduate Work in the Department of Religious Studies at Brown University – and author of many books and articles in the area of Syriac Studies) has written that

“There is a serious gap in the historical sources that survive to us from Orthodox traditions and Byzantine history that is not shared by western Catholicism, and that is precisely the gap in sources written by women. For some reason, the Middle Ages in the Latin west produced a large body of writings by women mystics – Some of these are truly in the realm of great religious writings”

(personal correspondence with the author). This sentiment is echoed by many Orthodox monastics, theologians and hagiographers when questioned about possible women mystics in the Christian East. Time and time again the consensus arises that within the Eastern Christian tradition, there is nothing comparable to the writings of Hildegard of Bingen, Julian of Norwich, Teresa of Avila, Therese of Liseux. For the most part, these women wrote in their own vernacular language – not the Latin of the male-dominated realms of theology, academia, and Church structure. It could be argued that “mysticism” gave them a form and expression of their religious experiences that was free from the ecclesiastical status-quo.

What we do find in the Christian East is eloquent mystical writings about women, but written by men. Dr. Harvey continues that these particular writings

“rarely include any mention of mystical experiences or visions. They describe the holy woman’s life, her devotional activities, prayer practices, ascetic labors, and perhaps miracles. But the type of literature is completely different from that of the medieval women mystics – these are not first hand accounts of the women’s religious experiences, particularly not of visions or mystical encounters. They are not like Symeon the New Theologian’s writings about what the direct, personal experience of God feels like. We have almost no literature written by women that survives to us in Greek.”

Thus, a contrast rather than a comparison

Scholars and others find this tremendous vacuum both inexplicable as well as unfortunate. Dr. Harvey’s classes at Brown include an Introduction to Christianity. In this course she assigns Julian of Norwich in conjunction with Symeon the New Theologian. The 14th century Christian West and its emphasis on the passion, suffering and death of Christ is contrasted with the 11th century Byzantine emphasis on transfiguration, light and resurrection. Sadly, there is no material to contrast these two poles of spirituality from the point of view of two women writers. There is no woman in the Christian Orient whose writings would parallel those of Julian.

What of Eastern Christian women?

We have eloquent mystical writings by and about male mystics. In addition to the men listed above, we have the writings of the Desert Fathers, Evagrius of Pontus (+399), Isaac the Syrian (+700), and others. For women there is next to nothing.

Desert wisdom from such 4th century Palestinian and Egyptian Ascetic Mothers as Matrona, Sarah the Short, Syncletica and Theodora is listed among collection of the Apophthegmata. But their sayings are brief, practical and severe – no mystical experience found among them.

This leaves the works of various men regarding holy women. St. Gregory of Nyssa wrote his Life of Macrina as well as The Dialogue on the Soul and the Resurrection about his extraordinary sister (Wilson-Kastner 105). The 6th century East Syrian spiritual advisor Amma Shirin is made known to us in the Book of Perfection by Martyrios Sahdona (Brock / Harvey 177-181). There is the 7th century Vita of the penitent, St. Mary of Egypt , written by Patriarch Sophronios of Jerusalem while he was a monk in Palestine (Ward 35-56). In this work St. Mary’s own words are reported. However, they are just that – secondary reports. Dr. Harvey concludes that “Not only do we not have writings by women mystics like those of western Christianity for the medieval period, but Orthodox do not even understand the terms the same way.”

Women writers down through the centuries

Kassiani the 9th century Byzantine nun was an outspoken poet and gifted hymnographer. Many of her liturgical works are well loved (see the appended texts). They are exegetic or dogmatic (i.e., source of theology and spirituality), but they do not speak of mystical experience.

During the following centuries all that survives from the pen of Eastern women writers is The Alexiad – a 12th century biographic work by Anna Komnena about her father, Alexios I Komnennos, the 76th Emperor of Byzantium. Anna was one of the earliest women historians and “among the most outstanding writers of the Byzantine age” (Cross 71). However, despite its greatness, The Alexiad is little more than an extravagant and exaggerated piece of imperial propaganda. Its primary use is found in assessing the attitude of the Byzantines toward the West, the Crusades and the Bogomil heresy.

It may be that the tidal wave of Islam, the Turkokratia in the former Byzantium , the Tatar Yoke in Russia and the general Western Captivity of the Eastern Church all added to the very odd situation which made women’s authorship in the Christian East next to impossible. In her correspondence, Dr. Harvey comments that the situation is “simply gloomy.  It really is a puzzle, but also, I think, a serious loss.  The fact that nothing survives does not mean that women did not have these [mystical] experiences.  But we don’t know.”

The modern era

The 18th century Syrian-Lebanese Melkite / Maronite mystic Hindiyya Anne ‘Ajaymi a possible bridge between East and West with regard to women “mystics” – though she was not in communion with the Orthodox. She was very much influenced by western piety and spirituality (Makhlouf passim).

In the early 20th century tsarist Russia a massive collection of biographies of holy men and women appeared. The fourteen-volume Descriptive Lives of Strivers for Piety in the Fatherland of the 18th and 19th Centuries was published by the Russian Monastery of St. Panteleimon on Mt. Athos between 1906-1916. From this and other similar collections, stories of exemplary women have been made available in English by Brenda Meehan. In this genre one encounters women who, according to Fr. Thomas Hopko (author of the preface to Meehan’s book), were holy “because of their devotion to Christ and the Church. Like their Master and all Christian saints, they struggled and suffered within the ecclesiastical, social and political institutions of their time which were inevitably of ‘this age’ whose “form is passing away’ (1 Cor. 7:32 )” (Meehan x). The biographies reveal the lives of five Russian women who

“knew, valued, and inculcated practices that intensified religious experience, including long periods of solitude; a community of like-minded people that shared a moral vision; communal worship and private, meditative prayer; a sense of sacred space; the stimulation of sight, sound, and smell through ritual, chant and sweet-burning incense, guides who knew and lived the holy way; disciplines that provided tools for psychological and moral transformation, a tradition of pilgrimage, with its radical opening to the new and the divine” (Meehan, 7).

Within the pages of Meehan’s book one can encounter a number of mystical (and other) characteristics but no specific “mystics” are to be found.

One Latter Day Saint

There was a 20th century Orthodox Christian woman who many consider to be a mystic, if one may use that term. Mother Gavriellia Papaiannis was born in Istanbul in 1897. She entered the monastic life at age 58, after a long career in physical therapy. She served the Church in the Holy Land, Taize, India, East Africa, Britain, America and Greece. Having taken on the obedience of living an active apostolate around the world, Mother Gavriellia fell asleep in the Lord in 1992. Her spiritual children all attest to her sanctity. Many who knew her (and others who have come to know her through her teachings) maintain that she was one of the few “mystics” of the Church – but a mystic whose vocation was in “the world.” Mother Gavriellia has been likened to an eldress in the tradition of St. Macrina. She has been called the Greek Orthodox Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Regardless of these comparisons, her following is continuing to grow and she is being considered by many for glorification as a saint.

Conclusions

1. In the Christian East (especially among the Orthodox) there seem to be few “mystics” as such – at least not in the sense that came to be understood in the medieval West, where it came to be understood as a category or religious experience which is distinct from (and perhaps in tension with or even opposition to) the category of “theology” – but many who have been given the specific designation of “theologian” or “new theologian.” Mystics and theologians are generally understood in the Christian East to be one in the same.
2. Mystical experience appears to be one of many possible characteristics that an individual may possess. This is likely due to the fact that the whole spirituality of Eastern Christianity is a mystical spirituality. Perhaps the whole idea of “mystic” is simply taken for granted as a “given” in the life and witness of the saints.
3. Women are written about (and usually by the men), but seldom have written themselves – and when they do write, they do so less seldom about their own first hand experience. Perhaps this is due to an inherent spirit of self-effacement within the tradition – especially for women.
4. There appear to be only a few men who write about what it felt like to encounter God in apophasis, hesychia, bathed in Uncreated Light and caught up in the ecstasy of Mystical Union.
5. Not unrelated to point 2, above, there appears to be a major emphasis on the “ordinariness” of the holy one under consideration – seeing the transfiguration in and through daily life; unremarkably keeping steadfast and doing nothing more than what was their Christian duty in the first place (Lk. 17:10); praising God among the pots and pans. Other women of the 20th century should be included with Gerontissa Gavriella:

   One is St. Marie Skobskova of Paris (+1945), a Russian emigré whose experience of true suffering, her counter-culture “monasticism in the world” and her ultimate sacrifice in Nazi Ravensbruk have proclaimed exactly what it means to be “oned” with God. Her life and witness is best set forth in Sergei Hackel’s Pearl of Great Price. St. Marie was an enigma; an unlikely saint. It is often attested of her that she was unattractive and dirty, strong, thick and sturdy, and above all, she was truly alive in her suffering, alive in her compassion, alive in her passion. She is a “living icon” – whose life and deeds place a very necessary freedom and courage before all, both as a defiant challenge to the comfortable “status quo” and loving invitation to it as well.

   Another is Matushka Olga Michael of Alaska (+1979), the Yup’ik village midwife and grandma. Any “mystic” characteristics attributed to her must be coupled with the fact that she often was “invisible” to those around her – simply present in an unassuming manner, but in a manner that was, upon reflection, full of power, grace and the Presence of God. She was the leaven that enlivened the lump of dough. In addition to the stories about her life and death, there have been numerous post-death appearances and healings (collected and recounted in Oleksa and Schimchik) which only underscore the paradox of an extraordinary mystical quality to this seemingly un-extraordinary priest’s wife.

Appendix: Texts

Amma Theodora:

Let us strive to enter by the narrow gate, just as the trees, if they have not stood before the winter’s storms cannot bear fruit, so it is with us; this present age is a storm and it is only through many trials and temptations that we can obtain an inheritance in the kingdom of heaven (Swan 64-65).

A teacher ought to be a stranger to the desire for domination, vain-glory, and pride; one should not be able to fool him by flattery, nor blind him by gifts, nor conquer him by the stomach, nor dominate him by anger; but he should be patient, gentle and humble as far as possible; he must be tested and without partisanship, full of concern, and a lover of souls (Swan 67).

Neither asceticism, nor vigils nor any kind of suffering are able to save, only true humility can do that. There was an anchorite who was able to banish the demons; and he asked them, ‘What makes you go away?’ ‘Is it fasting?’ They replied, ‘We do not eat or drink.’ ‘Is it vigils?’ They replied, ‘We do not sleep.’ ‘Is it separation from the world?’ ‘We live in the deserts.’ ‘What power sends you away then?’ They said, ‘Nothing can overcome us, but only humility.’ ‘Do you see how humility is victorious over the demons?’ (Swan 67).

Amma Syncletica:

For those who are capable of it, {poverty} is a perfect good. Those who can sustain it receive suffering in the body but rest in the soul, for just as one washes coarse clothes by trampling them underfoot and turning them about in all directions, even so the strong soul becomes much more stable thanks to voluntary poverty (Swan 46).

There are many who live in the mountains and behave as if they were in the town, and they are wasting their time. It is possible to be a solitary in one’s mind while living in a crowd, and it is possible for one who is a solitary to live in the crowd of personal thoughts (Swan 58).

It is possible to be a solitary in one’s mind while living in a crowd, and it is possible for one who is a solitary to live in the crowd of his own thoughts (Ward, Sayings 234).

The Hymn of Kassiani / Dogmatikon, Lord I Call for Vespers of Holy Wednesday:

O Lord, the woman who had fallen into many sins, perceiving your divinity, took up the role of myrrh-bearer, and with lamentation brings sweet myrrh to you before your burial. ‘Alas!’ she says, ‘for night is for me a frenzy of lust, a dark and moonless love of sin. Accept the fountains of my tears, you who from the clouds draw out the water of the sea; bow yourself down to the groanings of my heart, you who bowed the heavens by your ineffable self-emptying. I shall kiss your immaculate feet, and wipe them again with the locks of my hair, those feet whose sound Eve heard at dusk in Paradise , and hid herself in fear. Who can search out the multitude of my sins and the depths of your judgements, my Saviour, O Saviour of souls? Do not despise me, your servant, for you have mercy without measure”

Gerontissa Gavriellia:

Not a knowledge that you learn, but a knowledge that you suffer. That is Orthodox spirituality.

Do not desire many things–more than you have, that which is far away. Rather, seek to take care of what you have so as to sanctify it.

One thing is education: that we learn how to love God.

Only when we are “still”…not busy-bodies…busy-bodying…caught up in many activities… do we give the angels an opportunity to do something.

Once when I was there where I was, some foreign missionary came and said to me, “You may be a good woman, but you’re not a good Christian.”

I said, “Why?”

“Because you have been here so long and you only go about speaking English. What local languages have you learned?”

I said to him, “I haven’t managed to learn any of the local languages, because I travel a great deal from place to place. As soon as I learn one dialect, they start speaking another. I’ve only learned ‘Good morning’ and ‘Good evening.’ Nothing else.”

“Bah, you’re no Christian. How can you evangelize? All the Catholics and Protestants learn all the local dialects in order to . . .”

Then I said, “Lord, give me an answer for him.” I asked it with all my heart, and then I said, “Ah. I forgot to tell you. I know five languages.”

“Really? What are these five?”

“The first is the smile; the second is tears. The third is to touch. The fourth is prayer, and the fifth is love. With these five languages I go all around the world.”

Then he stopped and said, “Just a minute. Say that again so I can write it down.”

With these five languages you can travel the whole earth, and all the world is yours. Love everyone as your own–without concern for religion or race, without concern for anything.

Everywhere are people of God. You never know if the one you see today might tomorrow be a saint. Come let us be silent.

St. Marie of Paris :

“At the Last Judgment I shall not be asked whether I was successful in my ascetic exercises, nor how many bows and prostrations I made. Instead I shall be asked, Did I feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and the prisoners. That is all I shall be asked.”

One prisoner even recalled how St. Maria had used the ever-smoking chimneys of the camps several crematoria as a metaphor of hope rather than being seen as the only exit point from the camp. “But it is only here, immediately above the chimneys, that the billows of smoke are oppressive. When they rise higher, they turn into light clouds before being dispersed in limitless space. In the same way, our souls, once they have torn themselves away from this sinful earth, move by means of an effortless unearthly flight into eternity, where there is life full of joy.”

Works Cited :

Brock, Sebastian and Harvey, Susan Ashbrook. Holy Women of the Syrian Orient. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987.

Clément, Olivier. The Roots of Christian Mysticism. Hyde Park: New City Press, 1993

Cross, F.L., ed. The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church. Oxford: The University Press, 1997.

Gregory Palamas. (Meyendorff, John, ed.) The Triads. New York: Paulist, 1988.

Hackel, Sergei. Pearl of Great Price. Crestwood: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1982.

Harvey, Susan Ashbrook. E-mail to the author. 15 May, 2004 & July 7, 2004.

John Chrysostom. The Divine Liturgy. New York: Orthodox Church in America, 1970.

Lash, Archimandrite Ephrem. “Liturgical Texts: Triodion / Holy Week / Holy Wednesday / Vespers.” Anastasis. 12 June, 2004. Monastery of St. Andrew the First-Called, Manchester, England. 20 June, 2004. <http://www.anastasis.org.uk/HWWed-V.htm>

Makhlouf, Avril. “The Essential Lightness of Being – Hindiyya Ann ‘Ajaymi and Her Spiritual Journey,” Hugoye: Journal of Syriac Studies. 4:2 (2001).

Meehan, Barbara. Holy Women of Russia – The Lives of Five Orthodox Women Offer Spiritual Guidance for Today. Crestwood: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1997.

Oleksa, Michael. Orthodox Alaska. Crestwood: St.. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1992.

Shimchick, John. “Matushka Olga Michael: A Helper in Restoring the Work of God’s Hands,” Jacob’s Well. Spring/Summer 1997.

Swan, Laura. The Forgotten Desert Mothers. New York: Paulist, 2001.

von Balthasar, Hans Urs. Cosmic Liturgy – The Universe According to Maximus the Confessor. San Francisco: Communio / Ignatius, 2003.

Ward, Benedicta. Harlots of the Desert. Kalamazoo: Cistercian, 1987.

- – - Sayings of the Desert Fathers. Kalamazoo: Cistercian, 1984.

Wilson-Kastner, Patricia. “Macrina: Virgin and Teacher,” AndrewsUniversity Seminary Series 17 (Spring 1979): 105-118.

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¹The term “glorify” is roughly the eastern equivalent to the western term “canonize,” though the manner in which one is officially recognized and proclaimed as a saint differs considerably between east and west. The process is largely a matter of “ripple effect.” Orthodox Christians may venerate someone on a personal or local level. This may even include annual commemoration within a parish. Generally a local popular acclaim arises among those who knew (of) the individual. This eventually widens to include a larger territory and community of devotees. The diocesan bishop may at this point determine that the individual in question would be suitable for commemoration throughout the diocese — at which time the synod of bishops would then discern if the holy one is to be accepted on a broader scale. Memorial services are prayed on the anniversary of the death of the individual. The biography, writings and other relevant material concerning the holy one are circulated. Services which had been prayed for the individual then transition to services composed to and about the candidate. Icons of the individual are commissioned. The church then gathers in solemn assembly and proclaims that the holy one is officially glorified and assigns a feast day (usually the anniversary of death) in his or her honor.

²It should be noted that in the Eastern Orthodox world it is not uncommon for women (especially nuns) to hear the confessions of their spiritual children. They listen, give counsel and —acting in God’s name — assure the penitent of divine forgiveness. After this the penitent receives sacramental absolution from a priest with only the word to do so from the spiritual mother — no second confession need be made to the priest.

³Hesychia is Greek for “inner quietude and stillness.” The hesychast devotes him or herself to the prayer of silence — stripped of image, word and discursive thought. “True knowledge and vision of God consist in seeing that He is invisible. What we seek lies beyond all knowledge, being wholly separated by the darkness of incomprehensibility.” (St. Gregory of Nyssa, Life of Moses, 11.163)

DEALING WITH DEATH

Americans have forgotten how to die! And perhaps without knowing it, many Orthodox Christians fail to realize the discrepancy between American secular culture and true faith, worship, and new life in Christ. Our attitudes (or lack of any real attitudes) are often the result of surrender and confusion, our inability to deal with the reality of crisis. Why is this?

DENYING DEATH

Modern secular culture frantically seeks to avoid anything that disrupts the fragile shell of day-to-day existence. Society’s opiate-like state of complacency is challenged by crisis. And death is the crisis: “the last enemy to be destroyed.” It radically separates those it touches from the on-going course of human events.

So it is only natural that little by little death has been eased away and banished. It has been sent out as a scapegoat into the lonely wilderness of skilled nursing facility, hospital and funeral home. It becomes somebody else’s problem and responsibility.

Hence, in its secularized grave clothes, death disappears into our societal subconscious and loses reality and meaning. It has been “tamed” and now dons the grey flannel suit of innocuousness.

This has not always been the case. In earlier times death was a familiar — though feared — facet of life. Its disruptive character caused a break in the continuity of the world of those whose lives it touched. It was a stark reality, the Great Enemy whose impact upon day-to- day life could not be ignored.

Today, there is little evidence of the deep presence and effects of death. Family and friends are eased through the unpleasantness, and skillfully counseled over the crisis by “grief counselors,” so that only a minimum of disturbance is encountered. Crisis is replaced by efficiency, comfort, and convenience. Specialists are trained to provide “an island of calm in that lonely hour” (from an advertisement of the Clark Burial Vault Company’s “Product Counseling Program”).

Although today’s funeral industry allows and even promotes the viewing of the deceased by family and friends, even this is done in a carefully guarded manner. If death cannot be hidden altogether, it can at least be cosmetized and freshened, so that reality is masked and diffused. Listen to the words of a document published and distributed in the public interest by the National Funeral Director’s Association:

“Seeing is believing. It is the first essential step toward managing one’s own grief. . . . Proper preparation and sometimes restoration provide the bereaved an acceptable recall image of the deceased while confirming the reality of death. . . . Removal or modification of the marks of violence or the ravages of disease help provide an acceptable recall image.”

Acceptable to whom? For whatever reasons, modern society has surrendered the whole area of death and dying into the hands of an industry which is built upon the promotion of a facade. And tragically, most Christians are content to be numbered with the rest of secular society in this regard.

Maybe Orthodox Christians should reclaim death and dying from this stranglehold of the Prince of This World and restore them to their proper place — a place which is under the sovereignty of the Lord.

ALIVE IN CHRIST

The Christian idea of death once meant immediate communion with God. It was the means whereby the believer was given access to new life in the Kingdom. “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain…. I am hard pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ.”(Philippians 1:21, 23). “Come, fire, cross, battling with wild beasts, wrenching of bones, crushing of my whole body, cruel tortures of the devil‹only let me get to Jesus Christ! ” (Saint Ignatius To the Romans, 5:2).

Saint Cyprian, in his short treatise “On Mortality” (ca. A.D. 252) summarizes much of the early Christian thought about mortality and life everlasting. Near the beginning of his work, he pleads with those Christians who fear death: “It is for him to fear death who is unwilling to go to Christ. It is for him to be unwilling to go to Christ who does not believe that he is beginning to reign with Christ” (Cyprian, “On Mortality,” from The Shape of Death, J. Pelican). He continues:

“Beloved brothers, with sound mind, with firm faith, with rugged virtue, let us be ready for every manifestation of God’s will; freed from the terror of death, let us think of the immortality that follows. Let us show that this is what we believe, so that we may not mourn the death even of our dear ones and when the day of our own summons comes, without hesitation but with gladness we may come to the Lord at His call.”

The theology, liturgy, life and witness of the Church grew around examples such as these. However, just as Satan stole life from mankind through deceit, so too, in a similar manner through deception, the funeral industry has stolen death from us. In so doing, it has also stolen our essential and authentic Orthodox Christian response to death.

A LIFETIME OF PREPARATION

In order to define the place of death, as Archbishop Anthony Bloom has declared, it is critical that we not put our discussion of death and burial off until it is too late. There must be an on-going awareness of death during our whole lifetime. Without becoming macabre, the Orthodox pastor should continually prepare his parishioners to face their death and the death of their fellows. Saint Isaac the Syrian once wrote:

“In your heart, be always ready for your departure. If you are wise’ you will expect it at every hour…. Go to sleep with these thoughts every night, and reflect upon them every day. When the messenger comes, go joyfully to meet him, saying: ‘Come in peace. I knew that you would be here and I have not neglected anything that could help me on my journey.’”

Orthodox Christians have a decided advantage in this regard. We are constantly reminded of death in our worship as we pray: “For a Christian ending to our lives, painless, blameless, peaceful, and for a good account of ourselves before the awesome, dread judgement seat of Christ.” We should keep this recollection before us continually in our Rule of Prayer.

Mindfulness of death in the patristic sense is not the denial of life, but rather its enhancement. The quality of Orthodox Christian living is intense and serious, and it is wonderfully transfigured by God’s grace into hopefulness, joy, and faithfulness.

That is why, in the midst of Great Lent and in the face of death, we sing, “Alleluia!” We are enabled to look beyond the tragedy and crisis of death’s surrendering of body and soul. We can see that there is meaning given to death: meaning given in the Light of the Empty Tomb that shines brilliantly in a darkened world.

The reality of death for us is indeed horrible, critical, and tragic on one level. But beyond that, it also means that we shall be restored to our original likeness. In Christ we are meant to be restored to our original life in communion with God. This begins at our baptism and lasts our whole life long, unto the ages of ages — form one degree of glory to the next.

DEATH IN THE EARLY CHURCH

The Orthodox theology, spirituality, and liturgy of death bear a close resemblance to much of what we see within orthodox Judaism. And we see ourselves as the New Israel. Our Holy City is the new, Heavenly Jerusalem. Saint Paul and others have made it clear that we have inherited the Vineyard which in former times had been under the care of other stewardship. Many of the elements that make up the canon of funerary customs of Byzantine Christianity came themselves from the Jewish world. They came to be “baptized” so to speak. They were assimilated into our tradition: brought in and fullfilled in Christ.

But what is that tradition? What were the prevailing customs that became canonized by the lex credendi — this rule or canon of faith which is the criterion of our liturgical practice (i.e., our lex orandi)?

Immediately after an Orthodox Christian had fallen asleep in the Lord, the eyes and mouth were secured shut. The priest was notified, and the recitation of the Psalter began. This recitation would continue until the body was removed from the home. Upon the arrival of the priest, a brief Memorial Office was held at the deathbed. This consisted of the Trisagion, Troparion of the Dead, Litany and Prayer for the Dead, and the Dismissal.

Next, the body was washed with water (usually perfumed) or a mixture of water and wine. This, and the following preparation, was accomplished by the elder women of the family (the role of the Myrrhbearing women in Matthew 28 and elsewhere was a widespread custom throughout the Mediterranean world). Next came the application of aromatic myrrh, as a precaution against the odors of rapid decomposition in a warm climate. Hands and feet were bound together to insure an easy laying-out when rigor mortis set in. The body was swaddled in linen and then clothed in garments ranging from simple apparel to elaborate vesture.

The face of the deceased was covered with a veil. This appears to be an ancient custom for the sake of modesty, but it survives today for clergy: covered as they are with the veil that is otherwise placed over the chalice at the Liturgy. The head of the deceased was then crowned with a wreath of laurel or flowers. The Russians seem to be the only Orthodox Christians who consistently maintain this custom with a chaplet that bears the words of the Trisagion. In some “Orthodox cultures” of the Old Country, a long covering or shroud is placed over the body of the deceased. For the laity, an icon was placed in the hands; for monastics, the Psalter; for priests and bishops, the Cross and/or Gospels.

The term “prothesis” is used to denote the preparation and laying-out of the body. (The same term refers to the arrangement and setting-out of the bread and wine for use at the Divine Liturgy.) Often the body lay in-state immediately outside the entrance of the house, facing toward the East, resting in a coffin or on a pallet.

Now came the procession to the Church. The singing of the Trisagion often accompanied the noise of mourners. Candlebearers, priest, and censer all accompanied the body. A vigil, which was to last through the night, began as soon as the body arrived at the Church. The remnants of this all-night vigil are seen in our liturgical books in use today. The Funeral Office is simply an abbreviation of matins/orthros. The bereaved remained with the body throughout the night, chanting the Psalter and awaiting the sunrise.

After the Orthros, the Divine Liturgy was celebrated, and the assembled faithful prayed that the deceased would remain in God’s Eternal Memory. The grieving then imparted their last Kiss of Peace upon the one who had fallen asleep, and all then formed the procession to the cemetery (“cemetery” is from the Greek for ” sleeping place”), to the singing of the Trisagion. At the place of burial, a short Office was held, and the body was placed into the ground, then covered with earth.

All of this has been modified in recent times here in America due to a number of factors such as secular society in general, medical technology, county or state regulations, and the funeral industry’s marketing strategy. But it still survives, though often unnoticed, in the Church’s liturgy of death and burial.

How tragic that whereas orthodox Judaism has managed to maintain clarity and steadfastness in its liturgy of death and burial, Orthodox Christianity in America has often become muddled and capitulating. Ask this: Who among Orthodox Christians has not gone along with the funeral practices that correspond to the norms of American secular society? Who has bothered to see to it that the members of the Body of Christ are cared for with the whole liturgy of death and burial that we find in the liturgical manuals? Unfortunately, all too few.

THE COURAGE TO ACT

If we as Orthodox Christians are to make our witness consistent with our liturgy and prayer, we must challenge the “norms” and practices so prevalent today. It will take courage to face the culture that surrounds us. It will take strength to face the funeral industry that orchestrates the way Americans die and are at their disposal. It will take perseverance in dealing with the bereaved who have come to expect the non-Orthodox norms.

Nonetheless, this all can be done if, as Metropolitan Bloom says, our attitude toward death becomes the touchstone of our attitude toward life. This task must begin early on in the lives of the faithful. It begins now. It must be presented, taught, and preached at every turn. If the Church is to be central in the events that surround our falling-asleep so that the true meaning of death can be proclaimed, then the Church must have an authentic centrality in our life and witness today, so that the true meaning of life can be proclaimed.

And oddly enough, in their desire to be “of service” the members of the funeral industry will — if only asked — work with us to see to it that our rites and customs can be carried out. It simply takes a family or pastor to initiate this. Rather than demonizing the funeral industry as “them” versus “us,” it would be better if we saw those in the industry as simply naïve folks who are un-familiar with the Orthodox way of death. They simply default to the manner in which they have been trained: the American way of death. It is up to Orthodox clientele to help familiarize them. We are, after all, a minority in the Western world. It is Satan’s desire, however, to use this “American way” to render death innocuous if not meaningless.

Christ has trampled down death; He has destroyed it; He has done away with it. So, woe to us if we allow Satan to lull us into the lie that death being cosmetized and made serene has no tragic consequences. He has masked death’s crisis. Death now has a subtle appearance that seems to remove it from being Satan’s legacy to us.

Death does have a sting. Christ has removed it, not Satan. We must be mindful of this at all times, lest our victory shout, “Christ is Risen!” lose its meaning, and be something else to add to the list of the items stolen by the enemy.

The Church’s liturgy of death has a number of aspects. As we have received the texts and customs today, we can see much of the above-outlined order. The question to ask is whether or not the family of the deceased (or the pastor, for that matter) see that the whole Liturgy of Death is taken advantage of.

There are prayers at the parting of the soul from the body. These include the Canon of Supplication to the Savior and the Theotokos at the Parting of the Soul, the Prayer for a Soul being Judged, the Prayer for a Person Who has Suffered Long, and Who is at the Point of Death.

At the moment of death comes the Office After the Departure of the Soul.

The Panikhida (or Parastasis or Trisagion) is next appointed to be taken at the home of the deceased. This Office serves as a special vigil (or watch) over the body.

A Litya for the Departed may be taken at the home immediately before taking the body to the church.

The Funeral Vigil is held in the church. This service, like much of what has been listed above, comes from the monastic tradition of the Church. The vigil is essentially the Office of Matins, with psalmody, hymnography and scriptural passages which relate specifically to death and judgment. It is interesting to note that the Resurrection is not often mentioned in this service. Thus the Vigil should normally be fulfilled in the Eucharistic Divine Liturgy in which the faithful meet the Risen Savior, together with all those who are alive in Him.

The Funeral Divine Liturgy is the service appointed immediately preceding the trip to the cemetery. Sadly the Funeral Divine Liturgy has been neglected in many places, while the Funeral Vigil has been transformed into the funeral service itself. It is unfortunate that the organic unity between the Vigil and the Divine Liturgy has been lost. The full vision of the Liturgy of Christian Burial (i.e., the meaning of life, death and resurrection in Christ) cannot be grasped when this distortion is perpetuated. And this vision is just as significant as the vision of any other aspect of human existence. Thus the Funeral Divine Liturgy should be preserved with the funeral vigil.

At graveside the brief committal and interment office is taken.

On the 7th and 40th days the Panikhida or Trisagion is held, as well as annually. This service is essentially an abbreviated version of the Funeral Vigil.

Keeping the memory (eternal) of the deceased as well as prayer for the dead are the two central aspects of the Panikhida. We keep the memory of our deceased loved one continually before us. In the Old Testament we read that a tremendous fear of God’s people was the possibility of being forgotten by Him. To be no longer in the mind of the Holy One was essentially to be annihilated — to cease to be. And so we fervently conclude the Office with the prayer “Memory Eternal,” convinced that when God remembers, His creature lives.

Additionally, prayer for the deceased is another expression of our love. Although the dead are judged by how they lived their lives (see Matthew 25 for the criteria of judgment), the Church also teaches us that our prayers help the deceased in some manner (just as they help one another in some manner in this life). In a text that comes about 50 years before the birth of the Lord Jesus we read in 2 Maccabees 12:42-45 that after their death in battle, prayers, supplications and sacrifices were made for certain sinful Jewish soldiers.

Often a mixture of boiled wheat and other ingredients is offered at the Panikhida. This is called koliva, kutia, etc. It is connected with the words that the Savior spoke in reference to His resurrection: “Truly, truly I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains as it is, but if it dies it produces much fruit.” (Jn. 12:24) So, wheat becomes a symbol of what we proclaim in the Creed: “I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.” See also 1 Cor. 15:36-38 where St. Paul discusses death, the body and resurrection in relation to wheat.

On the Saturdays of the Church Year, as well as certain specific Saturdays of the Church’s liturgical calendar (especially during the season of Triodion and Great Lent) we commemorate the departed. This is due to the fact that all of the Saturdays of the year receive their meaning from Lazarus Saturday and Holy Saturday — where death’s sting was overcome by the fact that Life reigns. The verses of the service of Vespers for Friday evening (i.e., liturgically the eve of Saturdays), as well as the service of Matins on Saturday — not to mention the propers for the Saturday celebration of the Divine Liturgy all indicate the theme of prayer for the departed. One note should be made: given the Resurrectional character of these two major Saturdays, for the Christian, the color for the vestments is white. Praying for the deceased is not mourning, it is a proclamation that Christ is Risen! Fr. Alexander Schmemann writes: “It is in light of the Saturday of Lazarus and Great and Holy Saturday that we can see the meaning of Christian death and our prayer for the dead.” (Great Lent, p. 73)