Repentance – St John’s Adult Education

Nativity Class #6 – The Cross Of Righteous Suffering – Victory Of The Cross By St. Dumitru Stăniloae

In our final Nativity class as we draw close to the birth of Christ, it is good for us to remember how even Christ’s birth reflects this cross of the righteous suffering. Perhaps you, like me, might be tempted to believe that if I’m trying to do the right thing with God … why is this so hard … why wasn’t there room at the inn … why did even finding a place to lay His head become a struggle? So often my life in Christ is complicated by the doubts of my expectations and desires. And, if I’m honest, placing myself on His throne … playing God by imposing my will … instead of accepting His and trusting that as I participate in His will I deepen an experience of God He desires that unites me to Him and reflects His Goodness. Perhaps in the final class, we need to be reminded of the question of the condition of my heart and St. Dumitru’s explanation of God’s purpose for us:

The fathers emphasized the goodness of God as the motive behind creation … God created all things in order that they might share in his Love, that is, full communion with God … the Good, as scripture testifies, produced everything and is the ultimately perfect Cause… God created the world for the sake of humanity, that the world be led towards the purpose of full communion with Him … only humans in a conscious way can rejoice more and more in the love of God and become God’s partners … The world serves this movement of raising ourselves to our ultimate meaning of achieving our fullness in communion with the personal God. All things impose on us a responsibility before God and before the world itself, and it is by the exercise of this responsibility that we increase in our communion with God and with our fellow human beings.

The Experience of God – Vol 2: The World: Creation & Deification (p.17-18) By Dumitru Staniloae

There is a transcendent mystery to our life in Christ .. one that forces us out of the comfort zone of our own understanding. And our life in Christ will reflect this cross if we live it with the daily willingness he is very clear will be presented to us:

If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me

Luke 9:23

Let’s have St. Dumitru use the life of Job to help us more deeply understand this cross of righteous suffering from his booklet ‘Victory of the Cross’ we’ve studied through Nativity.

In the end it is God alone who can explain the sufferings of the righteous, and he does it through the many questions which he asks Job, all of which draw Job’s attention to the Giver of gifts. God in effect says to Job, ‘All my gifts are wonderful, but the intention of their wonder is to reveal the infinite wisdom and greatness of the one who gives them all’.

Then Job answered the Lord and said: I know that thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withheld from thee … I have uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not … I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.

Job 42: 1-3; 5-6

This means to say that up until this moment Job had always thought of God in much the same terms in which others had spoken of him; now he begins to understand God himself, beyond all his gifts, the Giver of everything. In order to gain this supreme treasure he had for a while to lose all his possessions. He lost the respect of others, he lost his health, his wealth—all things—in order to see God in all his greatness and wisdom and marvellous nature. In losing all things he did not doubt God and thus he came to see the apophatic, inexpressible character of God who is beyond all human understanding. He saw God in a higher way than is possible merely through his gifts. He saw him immediately through his suffering.

The believer continually needs to make abstraction of the things of this world, needs to put the things of this world into brackets of forgetfulness, in order to think of God who is above all human understanding. But sometimes it is necessary that God himself should intervene in order to throw into relief the little value of the things of this world in comparison with God, their transitory, passing nature in contrast to the eternity of God, in order to show us more clearly God’s infinite transcendence of his gifts and his ineffable presence with us. In such cases it seems to us that God himself abandons us. This is because sometimes we become so attached to things that we can no longer see God. Sometimes we make so close a link between God and the things which he gives, that we identify God with these things and totally forget God in himself, and then if God no longer shows his interest in us by giving us gifts it seems to us that he has abandoned us. For this reason the cross often seems to us a sign of our being abandoned by God. But it can also happen that God does really withdraw himself from our vision in order to prove and strengthen the tenacity of our love for him. Even our Lord Jesus Christ on the cross had this feeling of complete abandonment by God. But even the Lord Jesus never weakened in his love for God.

In reality, God never abandons us in whatever situation we find ourselves. It is possible that he may disappear for a time, for a moment, from our horizon, from our understanding. But the God whom we habitually think of in terms of creation will then appear to us in the true greatness of his glory which is indefinable and inexpressible in human thoughts and words. This is why in the Song of Songs it is said that sometimes God hides himself, and then again reveals himself in a higher and more glorious way:

By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. The watchmen that go about the city found me, to whom I said: Saw ye him whom my soul loveth? It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth. I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother’s house and into the chamber of her who conceived me. (Song of Songs 3: 1- 4)

It is only then that we enter into a relationship with God which is truly personal, a relationship which is above all created things. This relationship with God is one no longer dominated by material images. Our ideas about things and about the gifts which God gives altogether disappear in the light of God himself. Thus purified we give ourselves wholly to God; and we are raised into the dialogue of love exclusively with him. Then we feel that God is infinitely greater than all his gifts and all his creatures, and that in this relationship with him we are raised to a different spiritual level at which we regain in him all that we had lost.

The Christian who has the love of God in him and who thus has love for every person—that love which is an imperishable and inexhaustible reality—feels a greater joy than all the joys which the things of this world can procure, a greater joy than his own existence lived as an isolated individual could ever give him. This is the fact which the righteous discover in their suffering. This cross is given to a man in order that he himself may come to discover God at another level, at an apophatic depth, but also in order to show to other men that there are those who can be attached to God in this way even when all their possessions are taken from them, and even when God himself seems to disappear from their view.

The Cross as the Mystery of Love

The mystery of the cross of the just is the mystery of love between men as eternal persons, the mystery of love for God, and also of the love which above all things must be affirmed amongst men. Truly to love a person means to love them for themselves even when they no longer give us anything, when they no longer seem to have goodwill towards us, even when they seem to show us an incomprehensible coldness or hostility which is altogether contrary to the goodness which they showed to us earlier, even when it seems that the other person has abandoned us even to death. For if we remain firm in our love towards others despite their incomprehensible hardness towards us, we make a true proof of love, of the love which we have for them. This is the love which God himself forms in us and which does indeed raise us from death. When love confronts even death, then it conquers death itself.

He who accepts the death which God gives, with the declaration of love on his lips, gives a supreme proof of a love which will never fail, a love which is given to the person himself and not to his gifts. It is in this supreme love for God that we find the mystery of the cross which is carried by the just, of whom God has given the perfect example in the person of Jesus Christ, and in the earthly suffering which he underwent for the love of God. The Son of God in becoming man accepted the cross first of all to show his love for men, despite their hatred and incomprehension of him which were to be the cause of his death in this world. But then by his death on the cross he has given us the example of a man in whom love for God has resisted to the end, even to being given up to death.

…The world has value only in so far as through it we see and receive the revelations and the energies of the person of God who in himself, in his essence, cannot be described, but whose energies are already at work in all creation and will be fully revealed in the transfigured world of the age to come. Until the last day God is at work in this world, leading it towards its resurrection, above all by means of the cross.

Thus the cross is the sign and the means of the salvation of the world. All the world is a gift of God, and by the cross all the world has to be transcended in God. Only in Christ is this meaning of the cross fully revealed. In the cross of Christ the salvation of the world is founded, and the salvation of the whole cosmos, because by the cross the tendency of the whole cosmos to transcend itself in God is accomplished. One cannot conceive of a world which is not saved, a world which would always remain in suffering, enclosed in itself, a world in which the cross would not fully fulfil the destiny of the world. Suffering would have no meaning at all unless it was leading the world towards its salvation in God. The hell of an eternal suffering is no longer ‘a world’, properly speaking, but simply fragments detached from the world without meaning and without solidarity amongst themselves, shadowy, phantasmagoric fragments of the world. In hell suffering is eternal and would finally swallow up the gift. In the kingdom of God the world has been transfigured by the cross through which God himself is finally revealed and glorified.

Father Gabe’s Rich Young Ruler Homily December 1st 2024 Audio & Transcript

Father Gabe’s Rich Young Ruler Homily 12-1-2024

So, we all try really, really hard to avoid the uncomfortable truth of this story.

So, in the interest of time, let’s get right to it.

This story is not simply a diatribe against having wealth. We are all wealthy. Some of us with money, most of us not with money. But with something, we all have wealth. St. John Chrysostom, the Golden Mouth, tells us that giving away possessions is the least of Christ’s instructions in this passage. Indeed, for some people, giving up all their possessions is actually a great relief and would not actually be all that difficult for them.

The true message of this story cuts much deeper. So, that message is this.

Every single one of us, without exception, possesses something or some things that we value more highly than the kingdom of heaven. Things for which we would be willing to abandon God. And by abandoning God, I don’t mean that we become open enemies of God. But rather that we willingly choose something or someone else, something or someone other than God, with which or with whom to become unified.

If we were in the place of the rich young ruler and Jesus asked us to give away or give up X in order to draw closer to Him, we too would walk away sorrowfully, but willingly.

God does not want to see us make this horrible trade.

So, this story is begging us for our own sakes to figure out what X is in each of our lives. So, this thing or things, this could be people, places, goals, expectations, pursuits of respect, honor, glory. This certainly happens within the church as well. This will be different for each one of us, and they may likely shift over time.

I remember myself, my earliest thing that I wouldn’t give up to follow God, was to be famous in a band. It was going to happen. I know it doesn’t happen to most people, but it was going to happen for me. My intentions were pure. I just wanted to make beautiful music. No, no; I wanted to be famous. I wanted to have glory. Riches would come along with that. And I wasn’t willing to give that up until it became very clear that this was not going to happen.

So, I then started a company and tried to make all of those same things happen through the company. And it did, sort of. And then God makes that seem hollow and fleeting.

And oftentimes we have to go through it. We have to learn the hard way. The things that we think we should unify ourselves with will actually destroy us. And usually it takes them destroying us in some way for us to realize that God asked us to trade up long ago.

And so at its core, this gospel is a good, true fatherly exhortation to wisely spend our limited time and energy in the pursuit of true freedom.

God is here leading us to become like He is, to become completely unbound by anything, completely free and completely happy. This prospect terrifies most of us because it means becoming an entirely different creature, which is not an easy process. It’s a really big deal.

And thus God is very, very patient with us.

But be that as it may be, out of true love, God always keeps this transformative task directly before us. We must find the courage which without His help is impossible. We must find the courage to let go of the things that we would trade for the Kingdom of Heaven. To let go of the corruptible things that we would choose to unify with instead of unifying with God.

We have to remember, if we choose to unify with that which corrupts and decays, then we also corrupt and decay. Simple math. If we choose to unify with that which is eternal and divine, then we too become eternal and divine.

This is the cross. And crosses really hurt. But they bring us into union with God. This is salvation.

In the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Nativity Fast Class #3 – Repentance Through Thanksgiving

We’re going to break away from our focus on the ‘Victory Of The Cross’ this Thanksgiving week. As you may know, Cynthia Oquendo’s son Wilder will be baptized Sunday morning beginning at 9:30am. I’d like us to attend this important sacrament so we’ll make this an abbreviated class. Further, we’re likely to have lots of folks who are out of town this holiday weekend.

My topic for this class is repentance through thanksgiving. We’ll be using an extract from Chapter 2 of the book “The Engraving of Christ in Man’s Heart” written by Archimandrite Zacharias as our source material. As we enter Thanksgiving week, I thought it might be useful to explore thanksgiving as a means of repentance. Many of us may elevate repentance to this difficult place that we intend to move towards but we can’t seem to find a way to get started. I think the prescription of using gratitude and thanks as a means of practicing repentance can help us begin today on this journey of repentance. Archimandrite Zacharias is alive and a monk at the Monastery of St. John the Baptist in Essex, England. He is a frequent visitor to the U.S. and a disciple of St. Sophrony who was his spiritual father.

We’ll address these three questions in the class:

How can thanksgiving help us overcome our pride?
How can thanksgiving help us overcome our despair?
How is thanksgiving practiced in the Divine Liturgy

You can also access the fuller contents of this extract by clicking here.

How can thanksgiving help us overcome our pride?

The way of thanksgiving heals us from the passion of pride, and strengthens us against the temptation to despair. Thanksgiving and gratitude equal humility, which can be inferred from the word of the Apostle Paul: ‘Now we have received, not the (proud) spirit of the world, but the (humble) spirit which is of God; that we might (gratefully) know the things that are freely given to us of God.’ 15 It is important, consequently, to remember that the blessing and the grace of God increase within us through humility and particularly through thanksgiving. Holy Scripture, both Old and New, confirms this saying, ‘God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble’. 16 When we enter the grace of thanksgiving, we acquire the right kind of godly zeal, which befits the children of God.

How can thanksgiving help us overcome our despair?

Those who thank God never fall into despair and their heart is never empty of His consolation. This is illustrated by the example of a Christian man who once made a confession that he wanted to commit suicide because there was nothing but pain in his life. His spiritual father responded by asking him if there was anything good in his life, if, for instance, he was breathing and alive at that moment. His reply was positive, after which his spiritual father told him, ‘Start thanking God for the breath He gives you, for your physical life, and then for anything else God reveals that you have received as a gift from Him.’ The man started to thank God that he could breathe and that he was alive, and began to feel stronger within. Then he thanked God for knowing His Name, and that he received consolation from prayer in His Holy Name. Finally, his thanksgiving was so sincere and fervent, that he completely forgot about his despair and thoughts of suicide, and escaped this demonic temptation.

According to the teaching of the Holy Fathers, there is no greater virtue in the sight of God, than the giving of thanks while going through ill-health, persecution, injustice, or rejection. It pleases God when we are in pain and say, ‘Glory to Thee O God! I thank Thee, Lord, for all that Thou hast done for me.’ When guards were dragging Saint John Chrysostom into exile, sick, much afflicted, and maltreated, they passed by a church. The Saint asked them to let him stay for a while in front of the Holy Altar, on which he leaned and said to God, ‘Glory be to Thee, O Lord, for everything’, and at that moment he committed his holy soul into the hands of God. When our life is in danger, there is no attitude more pleasing to God than thanksgiving. If in that moment of pain, we cling to God with our mind and say to Him, ‘I thank Thee Lord, for everything. Neither death, nor any other sorrow can separate me from Thee, for Thou art He that doth overcome death’, then this proves that our faith has become stronger than the death which threatens us. This is a great feat in the sight of God which carries us over to the other shore. In other words, it leads us into a dynamic life, into the blessed communion of all the Saints, into an everlasting doxology and thanksgiving to God throughout all ages in His Kingdom.

The Divine Liturgy is a great means given to us of fighting the passion of despondency, so that we can overcome the spiritual death which preys upon our life. In the Liturgy we learn to do what the Apostle Paul describes in his Epistle to the Philippians, that is, first to offer up mighty thanksgiving to God, and then humbly, with shame because of our spiritual weakness, to make our petitions for all that we need of Him. 17 This is well pleasing to God, so He gives His grace, and gradually light and the feeling of His presence increases in the heart. This small light shines more and more until it breaks forth into a perfect day in our heart, 18 as the Prophet Solomon says, and Christ dwells in our heart by faith. 19

How is thanksgiving practiced in the Divine Liturgy?

In the Divine Liturgy, we are taught to give perfect thanks to the almighty and beloved God in a manner worthy of Him. The Divine Liturgy is the Cross and the Resurrection at the same time, because the Body and the Blood of the Lord which we receive contain the same grace and the same blessing which His Body had after the Resurrection, when He ascended into heaven. The Divine Liturgy is the expression of our gratitude for the Passion, the Cross and the Resurrection of the Lord. This is why in the heart of the Liturgy we hear, ‘Take, eat; this is my Body.’ ‘This is the Body’, the Lord says, ‘which I offered, lifted up upon the Cross, led into the grave and raised up into the heavens resurrected; but I also left this Body on the earth on the night of the Last Supper so that you may partake in it and in all the grace which accompanies it, because in it dwells the fulness of Divinity.’ And then he continues, ‘Drink ye all of it; this is my Blood. The Blood which I shed on the Cross as a ransom for the sins, and for the salvation of the whole world.’ Therefore, when we repeat these words at every Liturgy, it is as if we are saying to Him, ‘To Thee, O Lord, is due all thanksgiving, all glory, every blessing, for Thou hast offered Thy Body and Thy Blood as nourishment for us so that we may be saved and live for all eternity.’ Of course, in heaven and on earth, there is no other matter or vision that occupies the souls of the Saints, than Christ’s saving sacrifice. The study of God’s indescribable love towards us strengthens the souls of the righteous to remain always in an everlasting doxology of joy, thanksgiving, and love worthy of God, Who is holy and good.

The Apostle Paul writes, ‘For every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving.’ 20 Everything in our life is sanctified if we receive it with gratitude. When we offer thanksgiving to God, all things, every object and every creature, become a means of salvation for us. God’s words are, ‘Take, eat…, drink ye all of it; this is my Blood.’ The Divine Liturgy is founded on these words and then follows the prayer that God may come and fill everything with the Holy Spirit, just as He fulfilled these great and saving mysteries which remain forever. In response, at the end of the Liturgy we can chant a new and triumphal hymn, ‘We have seen the true Light. We have received the heavenly Spirit. We have found the true faith. We worship the undivided Trinity; for the same hath saved us.’ This is the ‘new song’ of the children of God, which they chant every day out of gratitude and love. 21 Such is the zeal and inspiration of Christians who have been born again through the Divine Liturgy.

In order for the children of God, who represent the Cherubim and Seraphim at the Divine Liturgy, not to ‘draw back’, 22 their thanksgiving must be replete and offered with ever increasing tension: ‘We thank Thee for all whereof we know and whereof we know not; for benefits both manifest and hid which Thou hast wrought upon us.’ 23 Of course, the things that God has done for us which we cannot see are greater in number, because the eyes of our soul are not open and enlightened. Yet we believe in what we are taught by the Church and in the prayer of the Divine Liturgy. This is why the Liturgy has such warmth; it is a flame of thanksgiving and gratitude. In the central hymn of the Divine Liturgy we chant, ‘We hymn Thee, we bless Thee, we give thanks unto Thee, O Lord, and we pray unto Thee, our God.’ Three verbs of thanksgiving and glory and one of entreaty are used here, because God the Saviour has already accomplished everything for us; He has given us all that we need for our soul to remain united with His Spirit, and for us to enter His never-ending blessedness. The only thing that is left is for our body to become incorrupt, and this He will grant us in the age to come, where we will be like the Angels of God in His Kingdom, as the Lord said to the Sadducees. 24

Despite all this, we must not forget that our participation in the abundance of life which the Lord offers us in the Liturgy, depends not only upon how much we have prepared in our ‘closet’ 25 the day before, but every day as well. Our whole life ought to be a single preparation to present ourselves worthily before God in His house, and to thank Him for what we owe Him with all our heart, and in a manner befitting Him. The Apostle Paul says that we are all members of the Body of Christ. 26 When we graft a wild olive it grows into a cultivated olive. The Church does the same through baptism; it grafts us onto the Body of Christ. In order for us, however, to be living members of the Body, each one must preserve the gift received from God. The Apostle Paul says that, ‘Every man hath his proper gift of God’. 27 Each member has his unique gift, which he must cultivate in order to continue as a living member of this Body. Our preparation before the Liturgy is our cultivation of the gift God gave us to become a Christian. One way of preparing is by praying on our own for a period of time before the Liturgy, and then going to Church with our heart full of warmth, faith, love, hope, in expectation of the Lord’s mercy, and full of spiritual dispositions. That is an offering we bring to God and the Church, a gift to the assembly of the brethren who have gathered together in the temple.

Footnotes

1 Rom. 8: 7. 2 Jas. 4: 4. 3 1 Cor. 15: 32. 4 Cf. Matt. 6: 21 5 1 Thess. 4: 13. 6 John 17: 3. 7 Eps. 3: 12. 8 Cf. Job 7: 17-18. 9 Rom. 8: 32. 10 Eph. 1: 4. 11 Saint Maximus the Confessor, ‘Various Texts on Theology, the Divine Economy, and Virtue and Vice’ in The Philokalia, trans. and ed. G. E. H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard, Kallistos Ware (London & Boston: Faber & Faber, 1995), Vol. 2, 3: 29, p. 216. 12 See Prayer of the Great Blessing of the Waters, ‘Thou hast poured forth the air that living things may breathe’. 13 Luke 17: 10. 14 Cf. 2 Cor. 7: 1. 15 See 1 Cor. 2: 12. 16 Cf. Prov. 3: 34 (LXX); Jas. 4: 6; 1 Pet. 5: 5. 17 Phil. 4: 6. 18 Cf. Prov. 4: 18. 19 Eph. 3: 17. 20 1 Tim. 4: 4-5. 21 Ps. 33: 3. 22 Heb. 10: 39. 23 Anaphora, Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostom and Saint Basil. 24 Matt. 22: 30. 25 Matt. 6: 6. 26 1 Cor. 12: 27. 27 1 Cor. 7: 7. 28 Lity of Theophany. 29

Repentance Through Thanksgiving – The Engraving Of Christ In Man’s Heart (From Chapter 2) By Archimandrite Zacharias Zacharou

As we enter Thanksgiving week, I thought it might be useful to explore thanksgiving as a means of repentance. Many of us may elevate repentance to this difficult place that we intend to move towards but we can’t seem to find a way to get started. I think the prescription of using gratitude and thanks as a means of practicing repentance can help us begin today on this journey of repentance. Archimandrite Zacharias is alive and a monk at the Monastery of St. John the Baptist in Essex, England. He is a frequent visitor to the U.S. and a disciple of St. Sophrony who was his spiritual father. I hope you find this article a great way of combining repentance and Thanksgiving …adding substance and meaning to this holiday – Bruce M.

What theory and which thoughts contribute to this greatest miracle known to the created world, namely, the union of the heart of man with the Spirit of God?

We are given this theory in Holy Scripture, where we learn that from the excess of His goodness, God formed man’s heart in a unique way, and it was the target of His visitation from evening until morning and from morning until evening. 8 It was made to be suitable for and capable of receiving its Creator when He would come into the world for the salvation of all. In order to take care of man and make him in the image of His Son, that is, a god according to grace, He conceived such a great plan for him, that He even ‘spared not His own Son’ 9 in order to fulfil it. Certainly, if man occupied the Mind of God ‘before the foundation of the world’, 10 then he must indeed be sublime in his origin and his destination, and extraordinary in the potential hidden in his nature which is made in the image of God.

This theory inspires faith which is activated by love and gratitude. Through thanksgiving to God for His merciful providence, the believer is enriched with spiritual gifts. We receive grace in proportion to the gratitude we show. As the great Saint Maximus says, God measures out His gifts to men according to the gratitude with which they receive them. 11 Thus we enter the blessed fulness of God’s grace: the greater the gratitude and glory we offer Him, the more abundant is the measure of His gifts to us. By thanksgiving, man acquires a hypostasis in the sight of God and his life has value in eternity, so that in the day of His glorious coming he will be able to stand in His unshakeable presence.

Moreover, with the gifts that he has, the believer enters into the communion of the gifts of the other members of the Body of Christ, the Saints and all of the Lord’s elect upon earth. In this rich assembly of grace, which the believer enters through thanksgiving and gratitude, he forgets about the smaller gifts he has received, and reaches out to a greater fulness of love and perfection, hungry and thirsty for the gift of God. Anyone who thanks God is a stranger to despondency, yet is overcome by a blessed sadness, because he cannot thank God for all His benefits in a manner worthy of Him, even for every breath of air which He pours out upon the face of the earth. 12 Consequently, thanksgiving such as this, leads to true repentance of which there is no end in this life. Then we understand why, in His Gospel, the Lord places self-condemnation arising from gratitude above all the commandments, deeming that we are useless and unworthy even when we have fulfilled all His commandments. ‘So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, we are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our duty to do.’ 13 Such a spirit preserves divine grace fervent in the lives of the faithful, and this leads to inspiration that saves, by sending away deathly despondency and giving strength daily to ‘perfect holiness in the fear of God’. 14

The way of thanksgiving heals us from the passion of pride, and strengthens us against the temptation to despair. Thanksgiving and gratitude equal humility, which can be inferred from the word of the Apostle Paul: ‘Now we have received, not the (proud) spirit of the world, but the (humble) spirit which is of God; that we might (gratefully) know the things that are freely given to us of God.’ 15 It is important, consequently, to remember that the blessing and the grace of God increase within us through humility and particularly through thanksgiving. Holy Scripture, both Old and New, confirms this saying, ‘God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble’. 16 When we enter the grace of thanksgiving, we acquire the right kind of godly zeal, which befits the children of God.

Those who thank God never fall into despair and their heart is never empty of His consolation. This is illustrated by the example of a Christian man who once made a confession that he wanted to commit suicide because there was nothing but pain in his life. His spiritual father responded by asking him if there was anything good in his life, if, for instance, he was breathing and alive at that moment. His reply was positive, after which his spiritual father told him, ‘Start thanking God for the breath He gives you, for your physical life, and then for anything else God reveals that you have received as a gift from Him.’ The man started to thank God that he could breathe and that he was alive, and began to feel stronger within. Then he thanked God for knowing His Name, and that he received consolation from prayer in His Holy Name. Finally, his thanksgiving was so sincere and fervent, that he completely forgot about his despair and thoughts of suicide, and escaped this demonic temptation.

According to the teaching of the Holy Fathers, there is no greater virtue in the sight of God, than the giving of thanks while going through ill-health, persecution, injustice, or rejection. It pleases God when we are in pain and say, ‘Glory to Thee O God! I thank Thee, Lord, for all that Thou hast done for me.’ When guards were dragging Saint John Chrysostom into exile, sick, much afflicted, and maltreated, they passed by a church. The Saint asked them to let him stay for a while in front of the Holy Altar, on which he leaned and said to God, ‘Glory be to Thee, O Lord, for everything’, and at that moment he committed his holy soul into the hands of God. When our life is in danger, there is no attitude more pleasing to God than thanksgiving. If in that moment of pain, we cling to God with our mind and say to Him, ‘I thank Thee Lord, for everything. Neither death, nor any other sorrow can separate me from Thee, for Thou art He that doth overcome death’, then this proves that our faith has become stronger than the death which threatens us. This is a great feat in the sight of God which carries us over to the other shore. In other words, it leads us into a dynamic life, into the blessed communion of all the Saints, into an everlasting doxology and thanksgiving to God throughout all ages in His Kingdom.

The Divine Liturgy is a great means given to us of fighting the passion of despondency, so that we can overcome the spiritual death which preys upon our life. In the Liturgy we learn to do what the Apostle Paul describes in his Epistle to the Philippians, that is, first to offer up mighty thanksgiving to God, and then humbly, with shame because of our spiritual weakness, to make our petitions for all that we need of Him. 17 This is well pleasing to God, so He gives His grace, and gradually light and the feeling of His presence increases in the heart. This small light shines more and more until it breaks forth into a perfect day in our heart, 18 as the Prophet Solomon says, and Christ dwells in our heart by faith. 19

In the Divine Liturgy, we are taught to give perfect thanks to the almighty and beloved God in a manner worthy of Him. The Divine Liturgy is the Cross and the Resurrection at the same time, because the Body and the Blood of the Lord which we receive contain the same grace and the same blessing which His Body had after the Resurrection, when He ascended into heaven. The Divine Liturgy is the expression of our gratitude for the Passion, the Cross and the Resurrection of the Lord. This is why in the heart of the Liturgy we hear, ‘Take, eat; this is my Body.’ ‘This is the Body’, the Lord says, ‘which I offered, lifted up upon the Cross, led into the grave and raised up into the heavens resurrected; but I also left this Body on the earth on the night of the Last Supper so that you may partake in it and in all the grace which accompanies it, because in it dwells the fulness of Divinity.’ And then he continues, ‘Drink ye all of it; this is my Blood. The Blood which I shed on the Cross as a ransom for the sins, and for the salvation of the whole world.’ Therefore, when we repeat these words at every Liturgy, it is as if we are saying to Him, ‘To Thee, O Lord, is due all thanksgiving, all glory, every blessing, for Thou hast offered Thy Body and Thy Blood as nourishment for us so that we may be saved and live for all eternity.’ Of course, in heaven and on earth, there is no other matter or vision that occupies the souls of the Saints, than Christ’s saving sacrifice. The study of God’s indescribable love towards us strengthens the souls of the righteous to remain always in an everlasting doxology of joy, thanksgiving, and love worthy of God, Who is holy and good.

The Apostle Paul writes, ‘For every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving.’ 20 Everything in our life is sanctified if we receive it with gratitude. When we offer thanksgiving to God, all things, every object and every creature, become a means of salvation for us. God’s words are, ‘Take, eat…, drink ye all of it; this is my Blood.’ The Divine Liturgy is founded on these words and then follows the prayer that God may come and fill everything with the Holy Spirit, just as He fulfilled these great and saving mysteries which remain forever. In response, at the end of the Liturgy we can chant a new and triumphal hymn, ‘We have seen the true Light. We have received the heavenly Spirit. We have found the true faith. We worship the undivided Trinity; for the same hath saved us.’ This is the ‘new song’ of the children of God, which they chant every day out of gratitude and love. 21 Such is the zeal and inspiration of Christians who have been born again through the Divine Liturgy.

In order for the children of God, who represent the Cherubim and Seraphim at the Divine Liturgy, not to ‘draw back’, 22 their thanksgiving must be replete and offered with ever increasing tension: ‘We thank Thee for all whereof we know and whereof we know not; for benefits both manifest and hid which Thou hast wrought upon us.’ 23 Of course, the things that God has done for us which we cannot see are greater in number, because the eyes of our soul are not open and enlightened. Yet we believe in what we are taught by the Church and in the prayer of the Divine Liturgy. This is why the Liturgy has such warmth; it is a flame of thanksgiving and gratitude. In the central hymn of the Divine Liturgy we chant, ‘We hymn Thee, we bless Thee, we give thanks unto Thee, O Lord, and we pray unto Thee, our God.’ Three verbs of thanksgiving and glory and one of entreaty are used here, because God the Saviour has already accomplished everything for us; He has given us all that we need for our soul to remain united with His Spirit, and for us to enter His never-ending blessedness. The only thing that is left is for our body to become incorrupt, and this He will grant us in the age to come, where we will be like the Angels of God in His Kingdom, as the Lord said to the Sadducees. 24

Despite all this, we must not forget that our participation in the abundance of life which the Lord offers us in the Liturgy, depends not only upon how much we have prepared in our ‘closet’ 25 the day before, but every day as well. Our whole life ought to be a single preparation to present ourselves worthily before God in His house, and to thank Him for what we owe Him with all our heart, and in a manner befitting Him. The Apostle Paul says that we are all members of the Body of Christ. 26 When we graft a wild olive it grows into a cultivated olive. The Church does the same through baptism; it grafts us onto the Body of Christ. In order for us, however, to be living members of the Body, each one must preserve the gift received from God. The Apostle Paul says that, ‘Every man hath his proper gift of God’. 27 Each member has his unique gift, which he must cultivate in order to continue as a living member of this Body. Our preparation before the Liturgy is our cultivation of the gift God gave us to become a Christian. One way of preparing is by praying on our own for a period of time before the Liturgy, and then going to Church with our heart full of warmth, faith, love, hope, in expectation of the Lord’s mercy, and full of spiritual dispositions. That is an offering we bring to God and the Church, a gift to the assembly of the brethren who have gathered together in the temple.

The gift that we cultivate when we are alone unites us with the Body of Christ. It leads us into the communion of all the other gifts of the members of Christ’s Body, the Saints in heaven, and also of His elect upon earth so that in truth we become rich. In monasteries, monks also have their daily prayer rule, which they do not consider to be a burden. On the contrary, it is an honour and privilege given to them to help them enter the communion of the grace of God, the communion of the gifts of the brethren who are their fellow strugglers.

Consequently, the more we cultivate our gift when we are alone, the more we shall be prepared when we come to church, to enter this blessed communion of gifts, the blessed communion of those who possess gifts, the blessed communion of the grace of God. For the grace of God stablishes the Church, who, like a mother, helps and inspires the faithful with her prayers and Liturgies, which create an upward impetus, while the Saints, who are the glorified members of the Body of Christ, pull them up with their prayers and intercessions. This is the meaning of the Church: a helpful push from below and a saving pull from above.

Those who offer a ‘sacrifice of love’ in their preparation for the Liturgy, come to the temple bearing gifts for God, which bring inspiration and impart joy, peace and grace to the other brethren. The greater and more attentive our preparation, the purer and stronger will our entry be into the family, that is, the communion of God. In one of the hymns of Theophany, it is written, ‘Where the King is present, there His army also goes.’ 28 That is to say, where Christ is, the King of heaven and earth, there are the orders of the heavenly spirits: His All Holy Mother, the Saints, the Archangels and Angels, and also all the Christians who have received the gift of the Holy Spirit and struggle for their perfection in all the places of His dominion.

By contrast, when we go to the Divine Liturgy without having prepared, we are not being fair to God and our brethren, because we do not have any gifts in our heart to offer God and with which to enter into this marvellous communion with the other members who do come bearing gifts.

Depending on how much they have prepared for the service, those who come to church maintain the warmth of their heart, so that they bear gifts for God and their brethren. We do not mean simply material gifts, like the goats and lambs which the Hebrews brought to God as offerings. Now they bring their heart, full of the warmth of faith, full of the light of God’s word from constant study of the Gospel, and full of the strength which the mystery of God produces in their soul. The hope and expectation they bear within, incites the faithful to exclaim and say to God, ‘Thine own, of Thine own, we offer unto Thee in all and for all’. 29 In other words, these things that are Yours, from the things You have given, when You provided everything we need to live and to be saved, we offer them to You, according to the commandment You have given us. And He receives their gifts, bread and wine, things which are insignificant but which become precious, because the congregation have placed in them all their faith, repentance, love, hope, their expectation in the Holy of Holies, and finally their whole life and humility. The Lord then accepts them, blesses them, and transforms them into His Body and Blood. That is, He also adds to them all the power and grace which were in His Body after the Resurrection and gives them back to us saying, ‘The holy things unto the holy.’ 30 This is the voice of God to His people. If the faithful have placed all their life in the gifts, they will succeed in exchanging them. In return they will receive all God’s life, all His grace, all His blessing, in short, the fulness of salvation.

In order for the door of the grace of God to open again, first of all we must thank Him ‘unto the end’ for all that He has given us until now. In this, we take heed to the words of the Lord, ‘If ye have not been faithful in that which is another man’s, who shall give you that which is your own?’ 31 In other words, man cannot receive a greater fulness of God’s grace if he has not first responded with a gratitude befitting God for all the changes of ‘the right hand of the most High’ in his life up to the present. 32

Thanksgiving, therefore, is the zeal which the children of God ought to possess. It is so pleasing to God, that the great Apostle Paul urges us first to give thanks to God for everything and only then to present our petitions to the Lord, ‘Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God,’ 33 and ‘In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.’ 34

In such a blessed communion of grace, we find true and dynamic divine inspiration which allows no rest on earth, but goes from faith to more perfect faith; from hope to confidence in the Living Jesus Who raises even the dead; from love to a greater fulness of love; and from a single light to the perfect day of His Kingdom that knows no eventide, wherein we will find the eternal rest of our souls with ‘all His Saints’ 35 and the ‘spirits of just men made perfect’. 36

Footnotes: 1 Rom. 8: 7. 2 Jas. 4: 4. 3 1 Cor. 15: 32. 4 Cf. Matt. 6: 21 5 1 Thess. 4: 13. 6 John 17: 3. 7 Eps. 3: 12. 8 Cf. Job 7: 17-18. 9 Rom. 8: 32. 10 Eph. 1: 4. 11 Saint Maximus the Confessor, ‘Various Texts on Theology, the Divine Economy, and Virtue and Vice’ in The Philokalia, trans. and ed. G. E. H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard, Kallistos Ware (London & Boston: Faber & Faber, 1995), Vol. 2, 3: 29, p. 216. 12 See Prayer of the Great Blessing of the Waters, ‘Thou hast poured forth the air that living things may breathe’. 13 Luke 17: 10. 14 Cf. 2 Cor. 7: 1. 15 See 1 Cor. 2: 12. 16 Cf. Prov. 3: 34 (LXX); Jas. 4: 6; 1 Pet. 5: 5. 17 Phil. 4: 6. 18 Cf. Prov. 4: 18. 19 Eph. 3: 17. 20 1 Tim. 4: 4-5. 21 Ps. 33: 3. 22 Heb. 10: 39. 23 Anaphora, Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostom and Saint Basil. 24 Matt. 22: 30. 25 Matt. 6: 6. 26 1 Cor. 12: 27. 27 1 Cor. 7: 7. 28 Lity of Theophany. 29

The Cross and God’s Revelation of Its Meaning – Victory Of The Cross By Father Dumitru Stăniloae

This is a 2nd extract from a powerful booklet entitled ‘The Victory Of The Cross’ written by the well known 20th century Romanian Orthodox priest and scholar Father Dumitru Stăniloae. You can find the 1st extract from his booklet here.

Then Job answered the Lord and said: I know that thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withheld from thee … I have uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not … I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.

Job 42: 1-3; 5-6

By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not. The watchmen that go about the city found me, to whom I said: Saw ye him whom my soul loveth? It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth. I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother’s house and into the chamber of her who conceived me. (Song of Songs 3: 1- 4)

The Cross as the Mystery of Love

In the case of Job we do not have this picture of a love for God which continues even to death, but we feel that this love could have been there unalterable to the end in Job. All the same, in the beginning Job did not understand the reason for his sufferings which in the end were to be a proof of his love for God. It is Christ who first saw the supreme and absolute value of the cross as a proof of love both of God and of men, love of a worth beyond all else. None the less, Job is the type of Christ, and his second and greater fortune is a type or symbol of the resurrection which the just man who accepts death from God will receive in the end.

Love which does not go so far as the love of Job went or, more clearly, as far as the love of Jesus Christ, is not true love but only conditional, a love conditional on things, that is to say a love of oneself and not a true love of others. It does not reveal the true, infinitely greater worth of persons than of any other created things or the eternal basis of their worth in the personal reality of God. In true love a man should transcend himself, go beyond himself, and the supreme act of this transcendence is fulfilled in love for God, who is the Transcendent One.

It is is doubtless true and right that persons reveal their love for one another by their gifts, and this is also true in God’s relationship with men. In this sense we cannot think of the cross without the world as God’s gift. But on the other side we cannot think of the world without the cross. The cross makes this world transparent for God. The cross shows that the world is God’s gift, and as such is a lower and lesser reality than God himself. The cross is the sign of God as a person who is above all his gifts. But it is also the sign of a perfect relationship between God and man. In this sense the cross is specially the sign of the Son of Man in whom this relationship has been perfectly realised. The cross is the sign of the Son of God become man, the sign which he prints on the world by his solidarity with the world.

Without the cross man would be in danger of considering this world as the ultimate reality. Without the cross he would no longer see the world as God’s gift. Without the cross the Son of God incarnate would have simply confirmed the image of the world as it is now as the final reality, and strictly speaking he could have been neither God nor God incarnate. The cross completes the fragmentary meaning of this world which has meaning when it is seen as a gift which has its value, but only a relative and not an absolute value. The cross reveals the destiny of the world as it is drawn towards its transfiguration in God by Christ. For this reason at the end of this stage of the world this sign, ‘the sign of the Son of Man’, will be revealed in the heavens above all the world, as a light, as a meaning, as a destiny which illumines the whole history of man (Matt. 24: 30).

In this way the cross prophetically points to the eschatological, the final destiny of the world. For this reason we associate the sign of the cross with the Holy Trinity, with the Kingdom of God. This is the reason why in the Orthodox Liturgy the cross is printed on the loaf which is used in the Eucharist, bread being at once the sign of God’s gift and of man’s work, the existential expression of the whole of man’s life in this world offered to God. With this sign of the cross the Church blesses, and before all their actions Christians make the sign of the cross in order to dedicate them to God. With this sign the priest blesses the water of Baptism, and also the holy water with which he sprinkles the house, the fields and the whole world in which the Christian lives and works—all is covered with the sign of the cross.

The world has value only in so far as through it we see and receive the revelations and the energies of the person of God who in himself, in his essence, cannot be described, but whose energies are already at work in all creation and will be fully revealed in the transfigured world of the age to come. Until the last day God is at work in this world, leading it towards its resurrection, above all by means of the cross.

The Victory of the Cross – By Father Dumitru Staniloae

This is Part I of an extract from a short booklet of the same title. As we prepare ourselves for Holy Week, I suspect you will agree with me that his presentation of the Cross is both clear and compelling. It helps us to understand our suffering and His suffering in the Light of the Cross. This Light can focus us on our love of the Giver not on his gift.

In this way, the Cross is constant in elevating us to what is eternal and transcendent in the Triune God where our true faith, hope and love lie.

Our Lord and Savior’s words become so much clearer in the light of this powerful presentation of the Cross by this 20th century Romanian Theologian so highly regarded:

If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me
Luke 9:23

The Cross Imprinted on the Gift of the World

The world is a gift of God, but the destiny of this gift is to unite us with God, who has given it. The intention of the gift is that in itself it should be continually transcended. When we receive a gift from somebody we should look primarily towards the person who has given it and not keep our eyes fixed on the gift. But often those who receive a gift become so attached to the gift that they forget who has given it to them. But God demands an unconditional love from us, for God is infinitely greater than any gifts given to us; just as at the human level the person who gives us something is incomparably more important than what is given, and should be loved for himself or herself, not only on account of the gift. In this way every gift requires a certain cross, and this cross is meant to show us that they are not the last and final reality. This cross consists in an alteration in the gift, and sometimes even in its entire loss.

We can see many meanings in this cross imprinted on the gift of the world which God gives to us. St Maximus the Confessor said that ‘all the realities which we perceive with the senses demand the cross’; and ‘all the realities which we understand with our mind have need of the tomb’. To these words of St Maximus we can add this: that in our fallen condition we feel the dissolution of the present world and of our own existence as a pain, a suffering; feel it as a sorrow because we have bound the affections which form part of our very being to the image of this world which is passing away. This attachment to the things of this world is felt particularly strongly by those who do not believe that there is any further transformation of this world after the life which we now know.

The Christian, however, carries this cross of the world and of his own existence not only more easily but with a certain joy, for he knows that after this cross there follows an imperishable life. With this faith he sees the world as crucified and dead to him, and he and all his tendencies as crucified and dead to the present world. This does not mean that he is not active in this world, and that he does not exercise his responsibility towards it; but he works in order to develop in the present state of the world, destined as it is to dissolution and death, the germs, the seeds of its future resurrection. He longs that this world, and his own existence in it, may be crucified as Christ was crucified; that is to say he wishes voluntarily to undergo the suffering of the cross with the hope of resurrection into a higher world, an imperishable world, a resurrection which is truly with and in Christ.

The Christian does not see the transitory nature of the structures of this world and of his own existence as leading towards a crucifixion without hope, or as moving towards a definitive, final death. He see this situation and he lives it, anticipating the crucifixion at its end with hope, the hope of a higher and unchanging life.

However, it is not only the Christian who lives his own life and that of the world in anticipation of their crucifixion, lives them as nailed to the cross of the passing away of their present form; everyone inevitably does so. For everyone knows that those we love will die, and this certainty introduces a sorrow into the joy of our communion with them. Everyone knows that the material goods which one accumulates are transitory, and this knowledge casts a shadow on the pleasure one has in them. In this sense, the world and our own existence in it are a cross which we shall carry until the end of our earthly life. Never can man rejoice wholly in the gifts, the good things, and in the persons of this world. We feel the transitory nature of this world as a continual cross. But Christians can live this cross with the hope of the resurrection, and thus with joy, while those who have no faith must live this experience with increasing sadness, with the feeling that existence is without meaning, and with a certain despair which they cannot altogether alleviate.

The Cross in Relationships

Our responsibility towards those who are near to us forms the weight of a particularly heavy and painful cross on account of the fragility of their life which is exposed to a multitude of ills, a multitude of difficulties which arise from the conditions of this world in its present state. Parents suffer intensely and very frequently because of the ills and difficulties of their children; they fear for their life, for their failure, for their sufferings. Therefore the life of parents becomes a life of continual concern, and the cross of the children is their cross. Our cross becomes heavier with the weight of the cross of those with whom we come in contact, for we share responsibility for the life of our children, our relatives, our friends, and even of all men with whom, in one way and another, we are in touch. We bear responsibility for all that can threaten the life of those for whom we have care, and we have the obligation, so far as we can, of smoothing their difficulties and helping their lives. Thus we can reveal and strengthen our love for them and their love for us; thus we can develop the seeds of a future life in strengthening our and their spiritual existence. In this responsibility towards our neighbour we live more intensely our responsibility towards God. Christ has shown this meaning of his cross, he who had pity on those who were suffering, and wept for those who were dead.

A second sense of the cross in relationships is this: the fallen world is often lived and felt as a cross to be carried until death through the fact that people sometimes act towards us in a hostile way, even though we have done them no wrong. They suspect us of having evil intentions towards them. They think of us as obstacles in the path of their life. Often they become our enemies even on account of the noble and high convictions to which we remain faithful. Our attachment to these convictions brings their evil designs into the light and their bad intentions to view even though we do not intend this. And this happens all the more because by the beliefs which we hold, and which we cannot renounce, we show our responsibility towards them, since we seek the security of their physical and material life and the true development of their spiritual being. This is a responsibility which we reveal in our words, our writings and our actions which become, as it were, an exhortation to them.

We also feel as a heavy cross the erring ways of our children, of our brethren, and of many of our neighbours and contemporaries. We carry their incomprehension of our good intentions and of our good works as a cross. Almost every one of our efforts to spread goodness is accompanied by suffering and by a cross which we carry on account of the incomprehension of others. To wish to avoid this suffering, this cross, would mean in general to renounce the struggle and the effort to do what is good.

Thus without the cross there can be no true growth and no true strengthening of the spiritual life. To avoid the weight of this cross is to avoid our responsibility towards our brethren and our neighbours before God. Only by the cross can we remain in submission to God and in true love towards our neighbours. We cannot purify or develop our own spiritual life nor that of others, nor that of the world in general, by seeking to avoid the cross. Consequently, we do not discover either the depth or the greatness of the potential forces and powers of this world as a gift of God if we try to live without the cross. The way of the cross is the only way which leads us upwards, the only way which carries creation towards the true heights for which it was made. This is the signification which we understand of the cross of Christ.

The Essence of the Passions

From Chapter 7 of Orthodox Spirituality by Father Dumitru Staniloae (pgs 73-75)

The passions represent the lowest level to which human nature can fall. Both their Greek name, pathi, as well as the Latin, passiones, show that man is brought by them to a state of passivity, of slavery. In fact, they overcome the will, so that the man of the passions is no longer a man of will; we say that he is a man ruled, enslaved, carried along by the passions.

Another characteristic of the passions is that in them an unquenchable thirst is manifested, which seeks to be quenched and can’t be. Blondel says that they represent man’s thirst for the infinite, turned in a direction in which they can’t find their satisfaction. Dostoevsky has a similar idea.

Neilos the Ascetic writes that the stomach, by gluttony, becomes a sea impossible to fill-a good description of any passion. This always unsatisfied infinity is due both to the passion in itself, as well as to the object with which it seeks satisfaction. The objects which the passions look for can’t satisfy them because objects are finite and as such don’t correspond to the unlimited thirst of the passions. Or as St. Maximus puts it, the passionate person finds himself in a continuous preoccupation with nothing; he tries to appease his infinite thirst with the nothingness of his passions, and the objects which he is gobbling up become nothing, by their very nature. In fact, a passion by its very nature searches for objects, and it seeks them only because they can be completely under the control of the ego, and at its mercy. But objects by nature are finite, both as sources of satisfaction and in regard to duration; they pass easily into nonexistence, by consumption. Even when the passion also needs the human person in order to be satisfied, it likewise reduces him or her to an object, or sees and uses only the objective side; the unfathomable depths hidden in the subjective side escape him.

Now the infinite thirst of the passions in themselves is explained in this way: The human being has a spiritual basis and therefore a tendency toward the infinite which also is manifested in the passions; but in these passions the tendency is turned from the authentic infinite which is of a spiritual order, toward the world, which only gives an illusion of the infinite. Man, without being himself infinite, not only is fit, but is also thirsty for the infinite and precisely for this reason is also capable of, and longs for, God, the true and only infinite (homo capax divini-man capable of the divine). He has a capacity and is thirsty for the infinite not in the sense that he is in a state to win it, to absorb it in his nature because then human nature itself would become infinite – but in the sense that he can and must be nourished spiritually from the infinite, and infinitely, He seeks and is able to live in a continual communication with it, in a sharing with it. But man didn’t want to be satisfied with this sharing in the infinite; he wanted to become himself the center of the infinite, or he believed that he is such a center; he let himself be tricked by his nature’s thirst for the infinite.

The human being then, didn’t understand that the infinite thirst of his nature isn’t an indication of the infinity of that nature, because the true infinite can’t be thirst. It’s only a sign of its capacity to communicate with the infinite, which isn’t a property of his nature. So the human being, instead of being satisfied to remain in communication with the true infinite, and to progress in it, wanted to become himself the infinite. He tried to absorb in himself or to subordinate to himself everything that lent itself to this relation of subordination: dead objects, finite things. Instead of quenching his thirst for the infinite, he sought to gather everything around himself, as around a center. But because man isn’t a true center in himself, this nature of his took revenge; it made him in reality run after things, even enslaving him to them. So passion, as a tireless chase after the world, instead of being an expression of the central sovereignty of our nature, is rather a force which carries us along against our will; it’s a sign of the fall of our nature into an accentuated state of passivity. Our nature, whether it wants to or not, still has to express its tendency for a center outside of itself. By the passions, this center was moved from God to the world. Thus the passions are the product of a tortuous impulse of our nature, or of a nature which has lost its simplicity and tendency to move straight ahead. In it two tendencies meet; or there is a tendency which can’t fulfill its purpose, but is turned against nature. Passion is a knot of contradictions. It’s the expression of an egotism which wants to make all things gravitate around it; it’s the transformation of the world exclusively into a center of preoccupation as well. Passion is a product of the will of egocentric sovereignty; it’s also a force which pushes man down to the state of an object carried here and there against his will. Sometimes it seeks the infinite; other times it chooses nothingness.

The spirit [of man] has no exact limits and is capable of being filled with the infinite and thirsts to receive it; yet instead of looking for the relationship with the infinite Spirit, it seeks to fill itself with finite and passing objects. So it is left with nothing and its thirst is never quenched.

Passion is something irrational. Everything in the world is rational according to St. Maximus the Confessor, with its basis in divine logoi; only passion is irrational. Note its supreme irrationality: The passionate man realizes more and more that finite things can’t satisfy his aspiration for the infinite, and this bores and discourages him. Even so the next moment he lets himself be carried away by his egocentric passion, as if by it he is going to absorb the infinite, He doesn’t realize that the true infinite is a free Spirit which can’t be absorbed without His will, because He is a subject which one must freely enter into communion with. For example, the glutton knows that no kind of food is ever going to satisfy his gluttony. Likewise he who hates his neighbor, feels that this animosity can’t put out the fire of hatred even if the neighbor is totally consumed by it. The logic should be that neither the glutton nor the hater should let himself be tortured by these passions. But neither one does anything about it, and continues with his irrational tortures.

By their irrationality, by their deceptive character, by turning man away from his true goal, the passions keep man in the darkness of ignorance. By the struggle against the passions the human being escapes ignorance; he returns to the true infinity of God, as a goal of his life and as a liberation of his spirit from the slavery of the world and from the tyranny which the passions represent. This is the meaning of dispassion.

Humble Repentance or Paralyzing Guilt – Homily Fifth Sunday of Lent

By Father Philip LeMasters

Whenever we experience guilt and shame because of something we have done wrong, we need to ask ourselves a question. Do we feel that way because we are sorrowful that we have disobeyed God or because we cannot stand being less than perfect in our own eyes or those of others? The first kind of humiliation is spiritually beneficial and may lead to repentance, but the second kind is simply a form of pride that easily paralyzes us in obsessive despair. At this point in our lives, most of us probably experience some mixture of these two types of shame. As we grow closer to Christ, the first must increase and the second must decrease.

When we wonder if there is hope for the healing of our souls in this way, we should remember St. Mary of Egypt. She stands as a brilliant icon of how to repent from even the most shameful sins. Mary experienced a healthy form of guilt when her eyes were opened to how depraved she had become through her life of addiction to perverse sexual pleasure. Through the intercessions and guidance of the Theotokos, she venerated the Holy Cross at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and received Communion on her way to decades of ascetical struggle in the desert. When the monk Zosima stumbled upon her almost 50 years later, he was amazed at her holiness. He saw this holy woman walk on water and rise up off the ground in prayer, but like all the saints she knew only her own sins and perpetual need for the Lord’s mercy.

Perhaps what makes St. Mary of Egypt’s story such a beautiful icon of true repentance is that she was genuinely humble before God. She was not sorrowful for her sin out of a sense of wounded pride, obsessive self-centered guilt, or fear of what others thought of her. Instead, she said earnestly to the Theotokos “Be my faithful witness before your Son that I will never again defile my body by the impurity of fornication, but as soon as I have seen the Tree of the Cross I will renounce the world and its temptations and will go wherever you will lead me.” And she did precisely that, abandoning all that she had known for the long and difficult journey that led to the healing of her soul. Her focus was completely on doing whatever it took to reorient her life toward God, to purify her desires so that she would find true fulfillment in Him.

Today the Orthodox Church calls us all to follow her example of repentance, regardless of the details of how we have sinned in thought, word, and deed. By commemorating a notorious sex addict who became a great saint, we proclaim that no sin is so shameful that we cannot repent of it. An honest look at our lives, as we should all take during Lent, dredges up shame and regret in various forms. St. Mary of Egypt reminds us to accept humbly the truth about our failings as we confess our sins, call for the Lord’s mercy, and do what is necessary to find healing. Her example reminds us not to be paralyzed by prideful obsessions that block us from being freed from slavery to our passions. Even her depraved way of life did not exclude St. Mary of Egypt from acquiring remarkable holiness. If she did not let a perverse form of pride deter her from finding salvation, then no one should be ashamed to kneel before Christ in humility. The Savior did not reject her and He will not reject us when we come to Him as she did.

In today’s gospel text, James and John related to Christ in a very different way, for they wanted the best positions of power when He came into His Kingdom. The Lord challenged their prideful delusions by reminding the disciples that humility, not self-exalation, is the way to life eternal. He said “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.” How shocking that today we celebrate honest, humble repentance from a woman with a truly scandalous past while some of the men closest to Christ in His earthly ministry think only of getting worldly power for themselves.

Perhaps the key difference is that St. Mary of Egypt got over obsession with herself. Instead of assuming that she was “damaged goods” for whom there was no hope, she humbly died to self by taking up her cross. Indeed, her repentance began in the context of venerating the Holy Cross at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. The rest of her journey required profound faith, sacrifice, and courage. To undo with God’s help the harm that she had done to herself through years of debauchery must have been incredibly difficult. But sustained by the Lord’s mercy and the intercessions of the Theotokos, that is precisely what she did over the remaining decades of her life.

Today, so near the end of Lent and only a week from Palm Sunday, we see that this is the path we must take also. In order to follow it, we must not be paralyzed in prideful shame about anything we have said, thought, done, or otherwise experienced or participated in at any point in our lives. Instead, we must have the brutal honesty and deep humility of St. Mary of Egypt, a woman with a revolting past who became a shining beacon of holiness. That is how she found healing for her soul and it is how we will find healing for ours also. The good news of this season is that the Lord makes such blessedness possible for us all through His Cross, His descent into Hades, and His glorious resurrection on the third day. But in order to participate in the great mystery of His salvation, we too must get over our pride, accept His mercy, and actually repent. If St. Mary of Egypt could do that with her personal history, we can too.

Great Lent And The Mystery of the Cross & Resurrection – Short Reflection

By Archimandrite Zacharias from his book ’At The Doors of Holy Lent’

Great Lent is a taste of death in the Name of God, for the sake of our reconciliation with Him, for the sake of His commandment. The little death that that beast, our ego, endures through fasting, through voluntarily bearing shame in the mystery of confession, by shedding streams of wretched tears for our dire poverty and inability to render mighty love unto the Lord; this death places us on the path of Him Who said: ‘I am the first and the last: I am He that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore.’(Rev 1:17-18). This begets in the heart the faith that, ‘If we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him: Knowing that Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over Him.’ (Rom 6:8-9). Then on the night of the Resurrection, we sing with boldness the hymn: ‘Yesterday, O Christ, I was buried with Thee and today I rise again with Thy rising. Yesterday I was crucified with Thee: do Thou Thyself glorify me, O Saviour, in thy kingdom.’ Our minor taste of death leavens in the heart and, upon hearing the good news of the Resurrection of Christ, it becomes an explosion of joy, initiating us into the mystery of His descent into hell and ascension above the Heavens.

The Church is preoccupied with only one matter: the Cross and Resurrection of Christ. Saint Paul was consumed by the desire to set forth before his disciples the image of Jesus Christ, ‘and Him crucified’ (1 Cor 2:2). In other words, his concern was to impart to them the knowledge of the mystery of the Cross and Resurrection of Christ, knowing that whosoever walks the way of the Cross will also enter into the presence of the Risen Lord. The Church institutes as a commandment that we should go through this period with spiritual tension for the renewal of our life. She travails to see her children assimilated through obedience into the mystery of the Cross and Resurrection of Christ.

Putting All of the Fifth Week of Lent Together – Father Thomas Hopko

At the end of the fifth week of Great Lent, and very particularly on the fifth Sunday, the Orthodox Church has all of its members and faithful Christians contemplating a very beloved and well-known person in Christian history for ancient Christians, and that is a woman named Mary of Egypt. On the matins of the Thursday of the fifth week, there is a penitential canon of St. Andrew of Crete that is read. That particular service, which is a long type of penitential vigil, is often called in Orthodox popular piety “the vigil of Mary of Egypt.” It’s kind of an identification with Mary. In Slavonic, it’s called Marii bodrstvovaniye, the standing with Mary in penance before God. Indeed, in that canon, with all the penitential verses, there are verses that ask Mary of Egypt to intercede for us, to pray for us, as part of the penitential canon. St. Andrew of Crete, the author, is also asked, but particularly Mary of Egypt.

On this Sunday, it’s again kind of a paradox in Orthodox worship, because the focus is now all on Christ. You have that great celebration of the Theotokos with the Akathist on Saturday, and then you enter into the Lord’s Day, and you hear the gospel about Christ going up to Jerusalem and entering into his glory through his suffering. Then even on that Sunday also in the epistle reading, we’ll hear again about how Christ enters into the holy of holies in heaven, not of creation, the sanctuary of God, securing for us an eternal redemption, and that he’s led to offer his blood on the cross through the eternal Holy Spirit where he offers himself without blemish to God and we are encouraged to purify our consciences from dead works in order to serve the living God.

So we are focusing on Christ, but then, with that, you have this whole Sunday when on the one hand you have these marvelous hymns about the resurrection and the victory of Christ on that Sunday, and then you hear even more about this Mary of Egypt. And it’s a kind of a juxtaposition. It’s almost as if the Holy Spirit and God Almighty wants us to keep these two things together. As we focus on Christ and his victory and go up with him to Jerusalem, then we know that this is for everyone and that it is for the worst of sinners. Nobody is excluded, and you can never forget that when you think of Mary of Egypt.

Who was this Mary? It’s interesting that on that Thursday matins with that canon the entire Life of Mary of Egypt is read in church.

…Orthodox Christians in this ancient tradition are called to contemplate that Mary, to remember her. And what’s the point? What’s the point? Oh, there are probably so many, and maybe the points are different for every single person who hears that story, but there’s two points that are for sure. One is that, no matter how sinful we are, the Lord God Almighty forgives us. The other point is that repentance is not just an emotion. It’s not just some kind of magical act. When we repent, we have to purge out of ourselves all of the garbage and filth and slime that’s in us. We have to go through a purgation process before we can be illumined and deified. All that is evil in us has to go: it’s got to be scrubbed away; it’s got to be cut out by the word of God that’s a two-edged sword that cuts the bones and marrows, the sinews, as it says in [the] letter to the Hebrews, the heart of people.

Penance is a work. It is a work. It’s made possible by faith and grace, but it is the result of faith and grace. We know God, we believe in him, we accept his grace, and then that grace purifies us, but it’s not automatic. I can’t resist saying—maybe I shouldn’t on the radio—about how one of my friends would say, “We believe in God the Father, Creator of heaven and earth; and the Son, the Lord Jesus Christ; and the Holy Spirit. We don’t believe in the Magician, the Mechanic, and the Fairy Godmother.” God is not a fairy godmother. He’s not a magician. He’s not a mechanic. There has to be a synergia between us and God. We have to accept that grace that cleanses us, that heals us, that power, and it’s got to happen, and it takes time. It takes time, it takes effort, it takes perseverance to the end. How often Jesus said, “Those who persevere to the end will be saved.” He says, “In hypomone, in patient endurance you will win your life,” and that repentance is a process; it’s not a momentary act.

Yes, Mary had her conversion experience. Yes, she knew the grace and the love of God at that moment, at that Holy Sepulcher. Yes, she knew that she was saved when she was allowed to enter and to venerate the tomb of Christ and receive the precious gifts of his broken body and spilled blood for the forgiveness of her sins, for the healing of her soul and her body and her passions and emotions and for the attaining of everlasting life. Yeah, that moment took place, and there are many such moments often in people’s lives. But then there is the result of that moment: the ongoing life in conformity to that moment. That’s what we see also in Mary of Egypt.

When I was the dean of St. Vladimir’s and the pastor of the chapel, and of course I was there for 30-some years, I always loved that fifth week of Lent. We had a practice at the seminary chapel that was, for me, at least, incredibly significant and marvelous. This is what it was: We would have those penitential services: the Presanctified on Wednesday with all those prostrations and those 24 additional penitential hymns—“O Lord, before I perish utterly, before I perish to the end, do thou save me, O Lord.” We would sing that canon of Andrew with Mary and keep that vigil on that Thursday. Honestly, we cut it down a bit. We were not monks and monastics there; we had our schedule to live, but we did it. We did it, yes. And then we sang the entire Akathist Hymn the next day, with all that marvelous celebration and veneration of the Theotokos with everything we could possibly think of put into our mouth to celebration the incarnation of the Son of God through her.

And when we sang that Akathist Hymn, we had a quite large icon of the Theotokos, Mother of God, with the Child, and we had it set in the middle of the church, and it was surrounded by flowers. It was decorated by beautiful flowers, and we would stand in front of that icon of the Theotokos, Mary, Mother of God. The deacons would be incensing and the whole church would be singing this marvelous Akathistos Hymn with all those wonderful words. Then we would celebration the Incarnation and Mary on that Saturday in the morning.

And then, on Saturday evening when we would come for the vespers and the matins and the Divine Liturgy of the fifth Sunday of Lent, in that same frame of flowers, on that same stand, the same analoy, in the middle of our same church, would be another icon: an icon of another Mary. Because we would remove the icon of the Theotokos and Child, and in that very same frame of flowers, on that very same stand, in the middle of our very same chapel, we would see Mary of Egypt. What a contrast that was! What an amazing thing it was, that on Saturday we’re glorifying and venerating the incarnation of the Son of God through the All-pure Virgin, of whom is more holy? The most holiest of mere human beings, Christ’s mother, Mary, holding in her arms the Holy One of God, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, the Messiah of Israel, the Savior of the world. Holiness! Holiness like you cannot imagine! was in that icon in those flowers and in those songs.

And then in the same building, on the same stand, in the same flowers—was Mary of Egypt. And our icon showed her emaciated, sun-burnt, her hair frizzly white, and her face totally beautiful, and even similar to the face of the Theotokos in the iconography. Totally beautiful. And we knew that a nymphomaniac, sexually addicted harlot and even-worse-than-a-harlot human enters the same radiance and the same glory as the Mother of Christ and of all believers. Like Mary, she herself became more honorable than cherubim, more glorious than seraphim, because in Christ everyone who’s saved has that particular glory. We all are enthroned with Christ over all the angels—the twelve apostles sit on twelve thrones, judging the angels, it says in Scripture. We really are deified and enter into the glory of God. That is why Christ was born of a Virgin, and that’s why we venerate his mother so magnificently.

But on this day we know that the worst, the lowliest, the filthiest, the most addicted, the most impassioned, the most possessed, by faith and grace through that same Christ, by the intercessions of his mother and all the saints, can enter into that same glory. And Mary of Egypt tells us that. She shows us that. And then she begins herself to intercede for us poor sinners. Maybe some of us listening are sex-addicted ourselves and nymphos and whatever, controlled and on computers, looking at porno and whatever—but there’s hope for us. There’s hope for us. Mary of Egypt proves there’s hope for us.

But it’s not magic, it’s not mechanical; God is not a fairy godmother. There must be faith, grace accepted and lived out, and that purgation that leads to illumination that leads to glorification, leads to deification—can be ours. If it can be Mary of Egypt’s, then it can be ours. And how wonderful it was to go to church on Saturday of the fifth week and stand in front of that flower-decorated icon of the Theotokos and Child, and to come back again that same night and the next day and to see, in that same place, Mary of Egypt.