“All that is truly beautiful carries the soul to You in a mighty call, and forces it to sing rapturously: Alleluia!”

Akathist of Thanksgiving, Kontakion 7

Ahhhh, vacation! I will be the first to say it is good to get away from time to time. I wish I could be the first to say that getting away isn’t necessary. I wish I could be stronger in carrying the weight of day to day responsibilities and not feel oppressed when the passing weeks seem to allow little let up in life’s demands. I wish my soul could endure more courageously and see more clearly how God trains His children through restraint and the limiting of our freedoms. I wish my mind could understand and assimilate how God intentionally binds us to the yoke of His Word through obedience that we might acquire the virtue of self-control and accept His restrictions in order to know His (true) freedom. I wish

There are many characteristics of a great vacation. Kh. Vanessa could tell you a few of mine (mainly through my complaining when I don’t get them). There is hope for a sense of adventure, for discovering something new, for anonymity, and for simple rest. What is it about me that “needs” these things? Of these four characteristics only one of them (the hope for rest) is obviously healthy for both body and soul. With weak or no faith a needfor adventure, discovery and anonymity could stand in direct conflict with the stable, grounded, and community-centered life we are given to live in the Church. Why? Because along with these desirescould come grave temptations of self-determination and a lack of accountability.

I often recall the story of St. John of Kronstadt, reportedly one of the greatest pastors of the Orthodox Church in the modern era (+1908). It is said of Fr. John that he never took any personal time. He spent ALL his time serving God and the calling of priesthood, and he was beloved of his people. If this virtue is indeed true it is nearly impossible to fathom this level of personal sacrifice, NEVER concerning himself with his own “needs.”

Fr. John was immersed in his faith, as man and as priest. His first vocation was to his faith in God and living obediently to the life of the Church. His second vocation, as an ordained priest, was how he expressed his first vocation. The order of his vocations is the correct priority that each of us, man or woman, should follow: first fulfilling our calling as members of the Royal Priesthood, then and only then fulfilling our life’s occupation in a priestly manner. What was it that Fr. John possessed, allowing him to be captive to his God-centered vocations? His diary gives us some insights into the source of his freedom in Christ: “I love to pray in God’s Church, especially in the sanctuary near the altar because then I change miraculously through God’s grace; during the prayers of repentance and moments of tender emotion my soul sheds its thorns and chains of passions and I feel elated; all the fascination and charm of passions disappear; it is as if I die to the world and the world with its attractions dies for me; I become alive in God and He permeates me and I become one with Him in spirit; I become like a child who finds consolation on its mother’s lap, my heart is then filled with heavenly peace, my soul illumined by heavenly light, I see everything clearly, rightly; I feel love and affection for all; oh, how blissfully happy is the soul with God! The Church, truly, is an earthly paradise.”

One of my favorite things to do while on vacation (and quite honestly at any time) is to go to a beach where there is a large body of water, i.e. the ocean or a Great Lake. Whitefish Dunes State Park on Lake Michigan provided for my needs this last vacation. I noticed something while standing sun drenched in my winter coat, taking in the chilly Fall breeze of this inland sea. There was in front of me the endless horizon, brilliant, daunting, liberating. I noticed a weight being lifted from my soul and an inner shout: “Alleluia!” I recalled how my God, now seen gloriously in His creation, had once illumined and empowered a younger self with a new vision of paradise and the pursuit of a repentant path. A man once told me that it is good to have a vision and hope. I accept with gratitude that day’s horizon as a gift of God’s pleasure, renewing my vision with the purpose of His creation and “all that is truly beautiful” to “carry our souls” to Himself. I wonder if Fr. John ever needed a horizon? My hope, however, is to one day be more dedicated to my life in Christ, to the Royal Priesthood and to my vocation, that like Fr. John I might find my “consolation” even more in the “earthly paradise” of God’s Holy Church.

“The outer signs are only to remind us of inner things.”

St. Elizabeth the New Martyr

It is very rare to hear anyone (even the non-believer) complain or criticize the outward “religious” beauty and splendor of Orthodox Christianity. On those rare occasions when criticisms are heard they can usually be quelled by gentle conviction and sincere explanation. What are some of these criticisms? One eventual convert to the Orthodox Church summed it up this way, “When I first encountered Orthodoxy I believed the Church to be more concerned about its ‘smells and bells’ than a deep and abiding relationship with Jesus Christ.”

Prior to her marriage to the Grand Duke Serge Romanov, Princess Elizabeth of Hesse was raised and lived devoutly as a Protestant Christian. Unlike her sister Alice (who would become the Tsarina Alexandra), Elizabeth was not “required” to join the Orthodox Church prior to her marriage to the Grand Duke. After her marriage she would remain Protestant for seven years.

Initially, like anyone unfamiliar with the traditions of Orthodoxy, Elizabeth struggled to understand the meaning behind Orthodoxy’s outward piety and customs. Nevertheless, out of her own love for God, respect for the Church and love for her husband she reverently followed her husband and the practices of the Orthodox Church. Like many converts of our own day Elizabeth had to learn how to cross herself, how to make a metania (low bow) before an icon and how to venerate (kiss) an icon or the hand of the priest. In a letter to her Grandmother, Queen Victoria of England, Elizabeth wrote, “Of course there were holy pictures, but when Serge knelt and kissed them I made a low curtsy; in that way it does not shock the people so much, and yet I think that I do not go too far. I only kiss the cross when held out to me and as it is the custom to kiss the priest’s hand I do it too—it is a mark of politeness.”

Eventually Elizabeth would indeed come to her own convictions about the Orthodox Faith (without any pressure from her husband I will add). She would continue to attend Protestant services and have long talks with her pastor, but over time (even from the beginning of her marriage) she became more and more attracted to the Orthodox Faith. Eventually she would discover that Protestantism could no longer satisfy her spiritual quest as she longed year after year to enter into the joy she witnessed in those preparing for and entering fully into the celebration of the Divine Services, of Holy Communion, of Holy Pascha. Eventually she would have to tell her father and her family that she would be leaving their church to join the church of her husband; and like many in our own day, it was not easy. When the time came and Elizabeth could no longer keep inside her desire to become Orthodox she communicated with her father, brother and sisters but none understood the step she was taking. Her brother Ernest even accused her of being “charmed” by the “outer brilliance” of Orthodoxy. Elizabeth simply replied, “Nothing in the outer signs attracted me [rather] the foundation of the belief.”

St. Elizabeth was very intelligent, wise, thoughtful, and prayerful. She was a woman of consideration and deep conviction. She was deeply loved for her piety and her service to the poor and needy. No one could have ever accused her of being flighty or subject to the winds of inferior influence. Behind every action she took, belief she accepted or word she spoke was a singular desire to please God. I do not believe that she would have ever been attracted to Orthodoxy because of its “charming” exterior; others might be but not Elizabeth. It is with this in mind that we contemplate the above quote and how truly important it is for us to seek understanding and acceptance of the reasons why the Orthodox Church looks the way it does; from architecture to iconography, from Liturgy to personal prayer; from piety to celebration, from Doctrine to Tradition.

Judeo-Christian history is a history rich with symbolism. From Adam to Noah to Abraham to Moses to David to Jesus to the Church today there has been established many, many symbols which not only represent or express an idea but more importantly reveal a Truth. As Orthodox Christians and recipients of the fullness of this holy lineage we must seek to accept this with all our hearts. The icons that adorn our churches and homes are more than just pictures. The vestments our priests wear are more than just clothes. The crosses that we wear are more than just jewelry. The incense that we offer is more than just smoke. The Divine Services that we pray are more than just words. The hymns that we sing are more than just songs. The churches that we worship in are more than just buildings. And the lives we have been given by God are more than just flesh and blood. It is necessary for us to become expressions of these inner mysteries lest we fall into the trap of “holding the form of religion but denying the power of it” (2 Tim. 3:5). St. Elizabeth was challenged about this when she decided to become Orthodox. She knew, however, that the life of the Orthodox Christian Church is rich in Spirit and meaning. By God’s grace she did learn it; so deeply in fact – she died for it.

“Sacred Tradition, as the eternal and immutable dwelling of the Holy Spirit in the Church, lies at the very root of her being, and so encompasses her life that even the very scriptures come to be but one of its forms. Thus, if the Church were to be deprived of Tradition she would cease to be what she is”

St. Silouan the Athonite

As challenging as it is, I do enjoy talking about the topic of “Tradition” with people inquiring into the Orthodox Church. I am thankful that recent times seem to be leading people (Christians in particular) in a more “traditional” direction. One of the more thought provoking examples that comes to mind is the level of public display of prayer for those who died in the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001. Granted, the content of those prayers may not have been what an Orthodox may have prayed, but the criticism I have experienced from some observers of Orthodoxy regarding our prayers for the departed leaves me somewhat surprised at the level of “mercy” sought on behalf of the victims of September 11^th.

I am not sure what caused the aversion to and ultimate rejection of “Tradition,” particularly within Protestant Christianity. Some say that it was because of “corrupt” practices which immerged in the Roman Catholic Church. The sad part of these allegations, along with the challenge to Tradition, is how Catholics are demonized in certain “Christian” circles (reflecting a very uncharitable attitude by Christians who should know better). I am thankful to have seen reconciliation within converts to Orthodoxy who had been taught to hate Catholics.

Yes, maybe there have been practices within Catholicism that “missed the mark” but whoever said that the human nature of the Church is perfect? Only Christ is without sin, as is the Divine nature of the Church, her dogmas, her scripture, her councils, her Tradition. This is a very basic point curiously missed by the Reformers. Why did they feel justified in continuing the schism of the Church rather than working hard at reformation through conciliation? I have my doubts that their justification came solely through theological difference. I believe that even more probable is the spiritual warfare that sprang up from the Age of Enlightenment, holding even Christians in the grip of philosophical self-determination. I tend to believe that the rejection of Tradition was more about pride than about personal conviction. I tend to believe that contempt for Tradition was less about corrupt practices and more about being fed up with being told what to do.

Christianity grew from a small, despised religion into a world transforming faith. Despite any bad examples throughout Christian history (which her opponents are always ready to point out), Christianity has been a faith of service and love from the very beginning. The n’s share of her effectiveness is born out of the womb of obedience to standards of faith and morality that were, and are, radically different than any other world religion. For those who are aware of Orthodoxy’s preservation of these standards they also know how radically different Orthodox Christianity is from other Christian faith traditions. Faith in the incarnation of “God become man” and the consequence of accepting the command to fight against the passions, as embodied in the message of “Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles” (1 Cor. 1:23), challenges us to a high standard of living and the rejection of self-determination—not of Sacred Tradition.

Some years ago my father became interested in the Kinder Family Tree. Acknowledging the presence of Sacred Tradition is really no different than acknowledging one’s genealogy; I would argue that it is even more important! Heritage and legacy are two words that are often missed, if not openly disregarded, in our fast-paced, get-what-you-can-while-you-can culture. Many have little care about yesterday and are too busy thinking about themselves to be considerate of tomorrow. The fact is we have received a heritage and we will pass on a legacy, hereditarily in our families and spiritually in our churches. There can be no denial of this, though some may try while in pursuit of the “self.” The rejection of Sacred Tradition in certain Christian circles, and even by some in the Orthodox Church who do not want to be held to Orthodoxy’s higher standard of accountability, is a sad and tragic minimization of many of the most beautiful ingredients of our Christian heritage. The standards of Sacred Tradition are not about ink and paper or rules and regulations written by men. They are revelations given by God in the ministry of the Holy Spirit “written not with ink but with the Spirit of the Living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts” (2 Cor. 3:3).

Could the Church ever cease to be what she is? I suppose in her human form, if man were to continue to reduce her into his own image, she would no longer reflect what she truly is. Thankfully, as the Spotless Bride of Christ, the Church, like Truth itself, can never be changed in essence. What man may do to the Church in the rejection of Sacred Tradition can only hurt himself. Thankfully, what man can do in the acceptance and preservation of Sacred Tradition can only help.

“My joy!”

St. Seraphim of Sarov

One of the most common questions I am asked, especially by non-Orthodox Christians, is, “What role do the Saints play in our lives?” Book answers are pretty straight forward; they pray for us, they reveal Christ to us, and their lives provide for us examples of successful Christian living, often in the face of great persecution. It is this last answer that recently reminded me of one of the most universally venerated and often quoted saints of the last several decades, St. Seraphim of Sarov.

St. Seraphim died in 1833 and was canonized in 1903. Like the majority of our saints, he led a life of faith and love for God from an early age. From the very beginning of his life he was taught to believe in God (unlike many parents in our “enlightened age” who let their children grow without any sort of religious training, leaving the child to one day choose whether or not to believe in God). From an early age his faith was deep and abiding; so much so that he decided to enter the monastery as a very young man. His strong faith led him to ordination and to a remarkable life in the service of Christ; miraculous and beneficial to many souls. Once, while serving as a deacon, St. Seraphim had a vision of angels in the altar, leaving him mute and confirming the true action of the priest’s prayer said before the Little Entrance during Divine Liturgy, “O Master, Lord our God cause that with our entrance there may be an entrance of holy Angels serving with us and glorifying Thy goodness” Every time I pray this prayer during Liturgy I think of St. Seraphim and know that the Angels are indeed ministering with us!

This Saint not only had to face the inner warfare of personal repentance, he also faced physical violence. He had been living as a hermit for ten years when three peasants came to his hermitage seeking money. When he explained that he had nothing they did not believe him and beat him almost to death. He considered defending himself but when he remembered the words of Jesus, “All who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matt. 26:52), he put down his sword (axe) and accepted his calling as a man of peace not to fight back. By God’s grace he recovered from the gruesome attack and eventually returned to his life as a hermit. Even more astonishing is how St. Seraphim, when his assailants were caught, forgave them completely.

St. m’s life was a unique and powerful expression of what God intends for His children. He fit well the description of “true manhood” given by St. Silouan of the Holy Mountain, meaning that St. Seraphim’s uniqueness was fulfilled (not obstructed) in his life of Godly obedience and virtue. It is refreshing to hear this Truth proclaimed when our secular world falsely charges that Christianity “represses” man’s “individuality” and “freedom.” St. Seraphim’s individuality was never lost as this “true man” sought God’s true calling to become solely a reflection of the image of God! This is a lesson we all could learn especially as the ever changing winds of popular cultural (career, family, youth, possessions, hobby, entertainment, preference) often confuse and control our lives like a ship without a rudder, establishing the “treasures of our hearts” on whatever idol or image “flavors the day.”

St. Seraphim had godly freedom. He reflected it in many ways. One of the most impressive qualities he possessed was his simple love for people. His concern was always for the “other.” Most of us are familiar with his famous saying, “Acquire the spirit of peace and thousands around you will be saved.” St. Seraphim was truly free and possessed this spirit of peace, and many were saved (and are still being saved) through his love. How many of us in this anxious, stressed-out, defensive and self-seeking world can claim this; even with all our attempts to find personal fulfillment and spiritual meaning? His love for the people was seen in the not so subtle way of addressing all people as “My joy!” Whether a stranger, friend or foe, Seraphim always saw Christ in the face of every person. There is much in our world that is spinning out of control: the breakdown of the family; the lack of honesty in government; the loss of integrity in the workplace; the lack of generosity in caring for those in need; tensions between nations, religions, the generations and the sexes; all stemming from a lack of love for the “other.” St. Seraphim was a man of faith, courage, strength, suffering and self-sacrifice; he was a man of love, peace and joy! What role do the Saints play in our lives? St. Seraphim of Sarov teaches us how to love and respect one another, and that our true selves and true joy will not be found in self-service but rather in self-sacrifice.

“Eventually I was so into my [temper (passion)] that I really believed I was doing the right thing. And later it was like a bad habit, like not being able to stop smoking.”

An Anonymous Professional World Class Athlete

I always appreciate stumbling across a statement that captures in a simple way an idea that is hard to describe or define. In trying to describe or define “spiritual warfare with our passions” one rarely finds such ease, especially when trying (through self-examination) to explain or understand one’s own thoughts and behaviors. In his letter to the Romans we see that even St. Paul struggled with this (lack of) understanding. Simply put he said, “I do not understand my own actions” (7:15). Whether or not one is able to clearly define his struggle does not take away from the reality of the struggle and the difficulties of dealing with it. It is especially difficult when a person doesn’t realize they are struggling and is even blind to the concept of struggle, spiritual or otherwise.

In Scripture, in relation to what we as Christians call “the fallen nature,” we hear of man’s condition of blindness and slavery; and we hear of how Jesus brought freedom to those bound by these defects, and ultimately freedom to all mankind from our greatest enemy, death. Jesus gave physical sight to the blind man at the well of Siloam and He gave spiritual sight to the great Pharisee, Joseph of Arametha. Jesus healed the ten lepers on the road from Samaria to Galilee and He healed Mary Magdalene of her spiritual sickness which had led her to a life of prostitution. Jesus gave life again to His friend Lazarus who had been dead and decaying four days in the grave and He gave renewed spiritual life to Nicodemus in his desire for Truth and the Kingdom of God. This fallen nature inherited from Adam and Eve’s disobedience is the great stumbling block to the Light and Life of God; and it is within the experience of this fallen nature that we face the greatest warfare known to man, the warfare for our souls.

We all need to admit to having a limited knowledge of our sin. This limited knowledge is a double-edged sword. When we are blind to our sins we aren’t able to confess them. However, the fact is that most of us are not ready to see the fullness of our sin and we need to thank God that He shields us from the great darkness that dwells in the hidden places within ourselves. It is from this limited understanding, however, that we begin to face honestly and sincerely those areas of our lives that are most challenging to the pathway of holiness and salvation.

What is it in this life that we are trying to accomplish by faith in God? This question may not be as simple as it seems. There are, however, some basic answers that a sincere faith should be able to give. First, we must begin to accept this life as a gift from God and acknowledge that we are only stewards of something that belongs to another. Second, we must admit that the relationship with God has been broken and that we have been placed under the consequence and authority of that brokenness. Third, we must believe that God has never stopped loving us in our brokenness, and even sent His only-begotten Son to become one of us and accept scorn, rejection and murder at the hands of a rebellious and ungrateful people. Finally, we must receive this Love together with God’s command to fight the consequences of our brokenness, continually seeking reconciliation with Him as His servants and not as gods of our own desire.

Our passions are so tricky and deceptive! The above quote reflects how through athletics one can become so consumed with himself that even bad behavior can be believed to be the “right thing.” One does not have to be in athletics, however, to know how easy it is to justify bad behavior. We need to get past the denial of our sin and seek a willingness to accept the challenge to fight our bad thoughts and behaviors, believing and confessing that they are wrong and offensive to God. Then and only then can we truly seek to change (whatever is in our power and, by God’s grace, whatever is not) in order that the holiness and virtue we also claim to believe in and confess may indeed become a foundation for good thoughts and behaviors and bear fruit for our salvation.