The Catalog of Good Deeds

The Transfiguration is one of the Twelve Great Feasts of the Orthodox Church, celebrated on the 6th of August. Described in the first three Gospels (Matt 17: 1-9; Mark 9: 2-8; Luke 9: 28-36), its commemoration has become uncommon in many non-Orthodox churches, which is unfortunate as there is much to discover in this event. Being one of the Great Feasts, there is also a rich heritage of iconography surrounding the Transfiguration of Our Lord.

The earliest surviving image of the Transfiguration is from St Catherine’s monastery in Sinai, a place which, because of its seclusion, is home to many early icons. In the apse of the catholicon there is a mosaic of the Transfiguration, dating from the middle of the sixth century.

Christ is the centre and focus of the image, his hand held in a blessing, eyes directed at us. His clothes are depicted “white as light” as the Gospel writers describe, and the glory of God overshadowing the scene is shown by the mandorla around his body. From His body, shafts of light are shown striking each of the five others present: to Christ’s right, the Prophet Elijah; to His left Moses; scattered about His feet, the Apostles John, Peter, and James.

The mosaic captures the drama of the event: the three Apostles on their faces in confusion, whilst Christ stands serenely in the centre above them, flanked by Moses and Elijah, who appear to be blessing Him. All subsequent icons of the Transfiguration vary little from this basic composition.

The mountain on which the Transfiguration took place is identified by St Jerome as Mount Tabor. The mountain plays an important part in divine revelation, as described by Scriptures, and links Moses and Elijah who are miraculously present by Christ’s side. Moses ascended Mt Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments and converse with God in a great cloud of divine glory (Ex. 24:12-18; Ex. 33:11-23; 34:4-6,8). Elijah was told to ascend Mt Horeb (probably an alternative name for Sinai) where he heard the voice of God in the “gentle breeze”.

In the Biblical account as well as in icons, these two conversers with God are now shown in conversation with Christ Himself, a clear indication to Jesus’ divinity. Icons further interpret their presence, following the words of the Church Fathers, by showing Moses holding a book: representing the Torah. Elijah, in animal skins reminiscent of John the Baptist represents the prophets, while Moses represents the Law. Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of both.

The Icon of Theophanes the Greek

Theophanes the Greek (Θεοφάνης, ca 1340 – ca 1410) was one of the greatest iconographers in Muscovite Russia, and was noted as the teacher and mentor of the great Andrei Rublev. He moved from Constantinople to Novgorod in 1370, and from there to Moscow in 1395. Theophanes was described by his contemporaries in Moscow as being “learned in philosophy,” and he was accomplished in bringing the teachings of the Holy Fathers on the Transfiguration into his own icon of the subject. The geometry of the image emphasizes the serenity of Christ compared with the ordered disarray of the Apostles: Peter reaching out a hand as though in the middle of his sentence: “Lord it is good for us to be here…” (Matt 17:4)

Theophanes’ bold icon is divided in two: Christ and the Apostles on Mt Tabor, whilst Moses and Elijah are removed to separate, but adjacent, peaks.

Theophanes was not the first iconographer to do this: the mountains of Tabor and Sinai/Horeb are different and so it was already common to depict Moses and Elijah standing on different peaks, leaning in toward Christ. What Theophanes emphasizes though, is the distinction between the two Old Testament saints on the one hand, and the Apostles of Christ on the other. Through three beams of light, he draws the three Apostles, and us, into the dazzling light that surrounds Jesus. By doing so, Theophanes is presenting us with the already ancient teaching that the Transfiguration was not only an event for us to witness, but a process that we should ourselves partake in.

The Event and the Process of Transfiguration

We heard this voice which came from heaven when we were with Him on the holy mountain. And so we have the prophetic word confirmed, which you do well to heed as a light that shines in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts

-St Peter (2 Peter 1:10-19)

In the Gospels, the Transfiguration comes just six days after Christ’s long discourse on the the End of the World, the Last Judgment and the Second Coming of Christ. Christ finishes His words with the promise: “there are some standing here who shall not taste death till they see the Son of Man coming in His Kingdom”. The Transfiguration, then, is the realization of Jesus’ promise, and so what the Apostles experience is a foretaste of the future life – “the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ”, according to St Peter.

In Theophanes’ Icon of the Transfiguration, for perhaps the first time in an icon, the ascent and descent of Mt Tabor is shown. This is an important part of the event: Christ did not suddenly transfigure Himself amid His disciples while preaching in Galilee. Instead, Christ chose three of His disciples, He led them up the mountain “to pray”, and there they beheld the future glory of God in the present.

Yet after the ascent came the descent. No one could experience such divine glory for a sustained time in this life: it is the promise of the Future Life. What is shown in the icon is that such an experience is for all of us. The geometry of Theophanes’ icon, which draws us into the scene, does not do so that we may observe it, but as an exhortation for us to experience it too.

We too must ascend the spiritual mountain – and there are enough writings from the Desert Fathers on what this spiritual ascent consists of. And at the summit, in prayer, those shafts of divine light can penetrate us too.

In later icons, the Apostles are shown in the same “ordered disarray” of the first Sinai mosaic, but their facial expressions are changed from fearful to sleepy (see the 19th century icon below). This follows Luke’s account, where it describes the Apostles being woken from a heavy slumber to witness the Transfiguration; it is this weariness that explains their inability to understand the significance of the event, and the conversation between Christ and the Old Testament saints regarding His future Crucifixion. There too is a lesson: along with the spiritual assent, and prayer, watchfulness is needed. When Elijah heard God on Mt Horeb, it was not in the roaring wind, earthquake, or fire, but in the overwhelming silence. What could he have heard if he had been inattentive? What can we gain from God if we are inattentive?

You were transfigured on the Mount, Christ God revealing Your glory to Your disciples, insofar as they could comprehend. Illuminate us sinners also with Your everlasting light, through the intercessions of the Theotokos.

O Giver of light, glory to You.

Source: https://iconreader.wordpress.com/2011/08/06/transfiguration-icon-the-event-and-the-process/

“If someone offends you, don’t tell anyone about it except your elder, and you will be peaceful. Bow to everyone, paying no attention whether they respond to your bow or not. You must humble yourself before everyone and consider yourself the worst of all. If we have not committed the sins that others have, perhaps this is because we did not have the opportunity – the situation and circumstances were different. In each person there is something good and something bad; we usually see only the vices in people and we see nothing that is good.” (St. Ambrose of Optina, quoted from Living Without Hypocrisy: Spiritual Counsels of the Holy Elders of Optina)

If you do good, you must do it only for God. For this reason you must pay no attention to the ingratitude of people. Expect a reward not here, but from the Lord in heaven. If you expect it here — it will be in vain and you will endure deprivation. (St. Ambrose of Optina, quoted from Living Without Hypocrisy: Spiritual Counsels of the Holy Elders of Optina)

“A continuously happy life produces extremely unhappy consequences. In nature we see that there are not always pleasant springs and fruitful summers, and sometimes autumn is rainy and winter cold and snowy, and there is flooding and wind and storms, and moreover the crops fail and there are famine, troubles, sicknesses and many other misfortunes. All of this is beneficial so that man might learn through prudence, patience and humility. For the most part, in times of plenty he forgets himself, but in times of various sorrows he becomes more attentive to his salvation.” (St. Ambrose of Optina, quoted from Living Without Hypocrisy: Spiritual Counsels of the Holy Elders of Optina)

“If you find that there is no love in you, but you want to have it, then do deeds of love, even though you do them without love in the beginning. The Lord will see you desire and striving and will put love in your heart.”

Source: http://www.orthodoxchurchquotes.com/2014/01/09/st-ambrose-of-optina-if-someone-offends-you/

Those colorful pages of store ads that come tucked into the Sunday newspaper tell us something about our culture. They tell us that every day has become the same as every other day. Here is the ad for chocolates wrapped in red and decorated with hearts on sale for Valentine’s Day. Identical chocolates but in a different shape and wrapped in red and green were on sale for Christmas. And a month from now, no matter how long it is till Easter, they’ll be offered for sale in egg or bunny shapes and wrapped in pastel colors. But it’s the same chocolate, the same sales pitch, the same enticing “sale price.” Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Easter — what’s the difference? One day is like all the others. We constantly experience this sad reduction of all days to one day. It’s certainly convenient in some ways (you can buy your chocolate any day of the week because the stores are always open) but sameness can be deadly, leading us almost imperceptibly from boredom to depression to despair.

An Antidote to Sameness

Standing as an antidote to this numbing sameness is the insistence of the Orthodox Church that all days are decidedly not the same. If we really pay attention to the rhythm of the church year and let it permeate our family life, we won’t be bored. We won’t be tempted to that despair that is the opposite of peace because it makes us feel angry and cheated: wasn’t there supposed to be more to life than this endless roll of identical days?

Our homes can reflect the peace of knowing that life is leading us somewhere, and that we are preparing for something. A simple act like keeping the Wednesday and Friday fast (not refraining altogether from eating, but refraining from animal products) can be a constant reminder that we are not bound to this world. We are in it, and we care for it and honor it as God’s creation, but we have a higher destiny, and fasting helps us prepare for that destiny by loosening the grip that this world has on us. We won’t die without meat and butter, we learn with relief. In fact, our bodies and souls may be lightened enough to hear God’s voice more clearly than before.

Anticipation

Another antidote to boredom is anticipation. This, too, is part of the Orthodox rhythm of life that can be reflected in our homes. Great Lent is a prime example. Our culture, if it pays attention to Lent at all, treats it as a somber period during which we must “give up” something. And even this has now become a joke. For several weeks before Easter the sign outside our local car wash reads “Don’t give up a clean car for Lent!”

But Great Lent in our families can be a period of nurturing a peaceful atmosphere that gives us time and mental quietude to prepare for the Resurrection. Cutting down on outside activities, giving less of our time to TV or radio, ignoring for just a few precious weeks the noisy entertainments that constantly grab at our attention — all these things can help us maintain a state of reflective anticipation. This is why the Church urges us to look at Great Lent as a gift rather than a deprivation. It is a gift of time — a piece of special time we are given to remember what a great victory has been achieved for us, and what a great destiny awaits us.

Like the Prodigal Son, we may have squandered everything our loving Father has given us. But we have the chance now to recognize, reflect on, and rectify that sin. We can go back to Him. He will receive us with love and without reproach. And when the day of the Resurrection comes, we will be among those once dead who now know that Christ has “trampled down death by death” for us. That knowledge is true peace.

We Belong to Someone

A major source of disquiet for many people in our culture is a feeling of rootlessness. We want to belong; we want to have a purpose in common with others. This is another gift the Church offers us, and one we should strive to share with those not yet in the Church. We belong, first of all, because we are one with the creation of God that worships Him and acknowledges Him as its maker. Jesus Christ referred to this when He said to the Pharisees who wanted Him to rebuke His cheering disciples, “If these should keep silent, the very stones would cry out” (Luke 19: 40).

Because we are part of, in fact the crowning glory of, God’s creation, we share with the rest of creation the privilege of offering Him our thanks. This is beautifully expressed in one of the hymns for Christmas:

Every creature made by Thee offers Thee thanks: The angels offer a hymn; the heavens, a star; The wise men, gifts; the shepherds, their wonder; The earth, its cave; the wilderness, a manger. And we offer Thee a virgin mother!

A family standing together in front of a candlelit icon of the Nativity of Christ and singing or reciting this hymn can certainly feel the peace and wonder of knowing that we have a place in God’s creation.

Icons reassure us that we also belong to the long-established family of God’s people. For example, in the icon known as the “Hospitality of Abraham,” based on Genesis 18, the three seated figures represent the angels who visited Abraham with good news. But the Church understands them as representing the Holy Trinity as well. Looking at the icon, we remember that we are not only the “heirs of the promise” made to Abraham; we are also the sons and daughters of the Triune God who showed Himself to us in Jesus Christ. To have icons prominently visible in our homes , and to talk as families about what they represent, can bring us the peace of knowing who we are and whose we are.

Wonderful Promises

A few years ago, a beer company advertised its product with the slogan, “It doesn’t get any better than this.” Now, conviviality is a fine thing (though it doesn’t always have to be beer-induced). But if there are people who really believe that human conviviality is “as good as it gets,” they haven’t yet heard the Gospel message.

Our homes can be places where we proclaim that message and challenge the idea that some limited earthly happiness is all we can ever expect. Look at the icon of the Ascension: Christ goes up in glory, leaving us with promises that tell us what we can really expect. He has said, “And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am you may be also” (John 14: 3.)

What is this place that Christ goes to prepare for us? As Saint Paul writes, it is wonderful beyond our ability to conceive: “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him” (I Cor 2: 9). So we needn’t scramble to find some meaning in this earthly life, or to measure its value in terms of beer. Icons and Scripture remind us of the promises of God. They tell us that His purpose and plan are at work for us. We must work to fulfill the plan and purpose, but we can be at peace knowing that He has declared the great things He has in store.

Just by displaying the icon of the Ascension, we create an opportunity to talk about these things in our families. We can offer a mealtime prayer thanking God for His promises, and asking His strength to help us be worthy of them in our lives. Feeling a sense of life’s divine purpose will contribute to our families’ peacefulness of heart. It will dispel the restlessness that constantly disturbs those who search for meaning and who know perfectly well that if it “doesn’t get better than this,” there is not much point in it at all.

Choosing a Different Course

D.H. Lawrence’s “The Rocking Horse Winner” is the story of a family whose mother is bent on becoming socially prominent. Her ambitions drive her to need more and more money, and the pressure of this is reflected in the family. Lawrence writes that the house itself seems constantly to whisper, “There must be more money. There must be more money.”

The loving young son in the family wants to help his mother. He discovers an extraordinary talent in himself: by riding his rocking horse with great attention and intensity, he can discover the names of winners in future horse races. He does this for several months, placing bets through the family’s gardener and secretly giving his winnings to his mother.

But the huge effort takes a terrible toll on the boy, as his mother’s ambitions and needs grow. She worries about his deteriorating condition, but has no idea what is causing it. The boy finally works himself to death on his rocking horse in one last extreme effort to still the whisper of “There must be more money.”

Though Lawrence’s story is set in England decades ago, it reverberates in our society today. Many families and homes are uneasy because of a perceived need to accumulate as much money and “stuff” as possible. This need can drive us unrelentingly, especially because the ability to accumulate is widely seen as a sign of success.

Once again, the Church offers us a chance to step back and take another look at those things that may be driving us. The troparion used for several saints, including the beloved Nicholas of Myra, contains these words: “Because of your poverty, riches were granted to you.”

Suppose this line from the hymn was made part of a family discussion with the question, “What do you think these words mean?” Suppose too that the discussion could be brought around to the idea that many saints chose material poverty in order to pursue spiritual riches without any distractions. This idea might open up a whole new way of thinking for our children, so accustomed to seeing prominent figures who are willing to do almost anything to pile up wealth for themselves.

We can look at more recent Church members. The Grand Duchess Elisabeth, sister of the last Russian Tsarina, Alexandra, was one of the most beautiful and privileged women of her time. Raised a Protestant, she eventually embraced Orthodoxy and wrote letters to her grandmother, Queen Victoria, explaining her choice. After her husband’s assassination, she chose monasticism, and she chose martyrdom in Russia during the Revolution, though her fellow European royals would gladly have gotten her out of Russia before her arrest, had she chosen to leave. But she refused to abandon the nuns in the monastery she served as abbess, nor could she turn her back on the poor and needy people of Moscow who depended on her.

It may be that we and our children will not make choices that go so dramatically against the mainstream as Nicholas and Elizabeth did, but by offering us examples of people who made such choices and who achieved spiritual greatness, the Church reminds us that this path is at open to us no less than to them. That knowledge can bring peace to people — young or old — who have to make a living in the success-oriented world, but who also seek the Kingdom of God.

Everybody Fits In

We all know that each human being is unique, yet most of us want to “fit in.” For some people that is much harder than for others. Unusual personalities or interests, even physical appearance, can make being part of the group difficult. For children and young people especially, this can be a real problem, troubling to the soul.

The great panoply of saints can offer peace to a troubled young soul. If in our homes we follow the daily calendar of saints, we can introduce our children to holy people so varied in their abilities and personal styles that anyone can find a “model” in one of them, if not more than one.

The saints’ stories are often surprising. Who would have thought that gentle Saint Nicholas could strike anyone, even the arch-heretic Arius? The stories of the saints open several layers of meaning that invite us to dig deeper into them. For example, Saint Simeon the Stylite, living on his pillar, intrigues us with his approach to holiness. It adds to our amazement to learn that he did not stay in isolation, but counseled and prayed for the countless people who came to him for advice and guidance. Perhaps most surprising of all, when his monastic elders asked him, as an obedience, to come down from the pillar where he had become such a revered figure, Simeon did so immediately. There is much to be learned and contemplated in these “layers” of Saint Simeon’s story!

All the saints’ lives tell us that any person, and any kind of person, can find the peace of God.

If we can make our homes places that reflect God’s love, our children will believe that Jesus Christ speaks the truth when He says, “My peace I give to you… Let not your hearts be troubled; neither let them be afraid” (John 14: 27).

Valerie Zahirsky is a graduate of St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary in New York (M.Div.) and of the Claremont Graduate University in California (M.A. in English.) She has represented the Orthodox Church at several international meetings and writes church school curriculum for various Orthodox jurisdictions. She frequently speaks on topics concerning women and families in the Church, and her article “Growing Up Orthodox and Female” appears in the book Orthodox Women Speak. Her husband is a priest of the Orthodox Church in America. Their two children are Barbara and Peter.

Source: http://www.pravmir.com/family-life-in-an-orthodox-rhythm/

The question of the title concerns many parents who want to fast during these days, but do not know what to do and more so, if a young child can follow the fast. In the scientific article below you will be informed about whether a child could and should (from a medical standpoint) fast, from what age, and if there is any risk. Lastly you will read about the benefits of fasting for the organism of a child.

By Chrysanthis Lathira, pediatrician

We are in the days of Lent and many Greek families are fasting, that is, they are abstaining from meat and anything derived from animals. When asked if children can fast and if this habit can cause health problems, I say yes, children can follow the fast of their parents, especially during school age, that is, after the 5th or 6th year of their life.

Fasting is an excellent opportunity to participate in a vegetarian diet even for a few days, in which they will include among their foods legumes (a rich source of protein of high biological value), vegetables (a source of fiber which helps in the smooth functioning of the intestines), olive oil rather than animal fats, raw nuts and dried fruits, seafood (rich in proteins and minerals), and abundant fruits (a source of vitamins and antioxidants). Besides the nutritional benefits of fasting, a child can also practice restraint and put limits on what they want.

Probably some parents wonder whether their child is getting enough protein and calcium during fasting. Meat (red or white) is the most abundant protein food, but it can be replaced during the days of fasting with legumes (ex. lentils) combined with cereals (rice or quinoa), thereby increasing the absorption of iron. Protein-rich foods are nuts and grains such as oats, rye and soybean products. Calcium can be ingested with seafood, almonds, sesame seeds, tahini and halva.

After fasting comes the celebration of Easter and the kids in the spirit of the holidays consume eggs, plenty of meats and lots of sweets. The sudden change of diet from fasting to the uncontrolled consumption of Easter meals can cause gastrointestinal issues in children as well as adults. The adjustment of foods from fasting must be done with caution. Children and adults do not have to eat everything in one day they were deprived of during fasting. Particular attention should be given to children who suffer from juvenile diabetes and are overweight.

The traditional mageritsa (lamb) soup in the late evening of the Resurrection of Christ helps to prepare the digestive system to feast the next day. On Easter day at the holiday table there should be present a prevalent amount of fresh vegetables to accompany the lamb. For young children it would be better to consume the lean part of the lamb (the leg). The meat of the lamb can be enriched with an abundant amount of oregano which is rich in antioxidants and protects from dangerous nitrosamines which produce in meat. Also, do not forget the lemon which helps in the absorption of iron. It is good for children not to consume animal offal but fresh salads and measured quantities of roasted meat. Easter eggs should be limited to just one a day since their overconsumption increases blood lipids. A child can safely consume three to five eggs a week. Measure is needed regarding the sweets that fill most homes, with the traditional tsoureki having a special honor in the days of Easter.

Let us not forget that most sweets contain hundreds of calories and cause weight gain, because they are rich in sugar and fat. Consuming chocolate eggs of course are a temptation especially for young children, which can cause weight gain and food allergy.

In summary, the transition from fasting to festive diet should be done in moderation and with small quantities. Otherwise it will cause digestive discomfort such as vomiting and diarrhea, as well as food allergies, weight gain and the onset of metabolic disorders such as increased blood sugar and high cholesterol levels, hyperlipidemia. The eating habits of parents are a role model for children teaching their children the extent and quality of a diet so they may be healthy adults.

Source: http://www.johnsanidopoulos.com/search/label/Health

“Monogamous Communion”: A Defense of “Closed” Communion by Fr. Michael Shanbour

“Imagine there’s no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too”

~ John Lennon

John Lennon’s lyrics strike a chord in us. We all remember a time when we yearned for a unity with others where the slightest separation is melted away in the face of pure love and abiding peace. Indeed the longing for true communion is the fundamental God-implanted hunger in every human soul.

However over the centuries many have misused or misapplied this natural yearning for communion by artificially discounting the true borders of personhood. Examples include political ideologies such as Communism and like-minded social experiments such as hippie commune-ism. Platonism and other philosophical forms of dualism sought the release of the “invisible and indefinable” spirit from the confines of “evil” material existence. Examples of religious and deistic forms of a boundary-less union are the pantheism of Hinduism and the Christian heresy of Docetism, which claimed that Jesus only appeared to be circumscribed by a physical body.

All of these have one thing in common – they seek to create a perceived communion by breaking down extant distinctions and definitions. As the former Beatle seems to advocate, division and disunity are actually caused by boundaries and beliefs. Yet a “communion” without borders is short-lived and futile because it is not consonant with reality itself. For instance, a country is not threatened by the existence of its borders; its borders are what make possible a real identity and a unifying culture. Imagine a country without borders and I will show you an imaginary country.

Certainly, there are always dangers of unhealthy ethnocentrism, blind patriotism, or insular closed-mindedness. But a country without borders, without a distinctive history, without unifying cultural principles and symbols, without flag or anthem, is no country at all. If, because there are no borders, everyone is automatically a member, then no one is truly a member, for membership in such a non-entity is entirely meaningless.

A house without foundation and walls is not a house but merely a continuum of space indistinguishable from other space. The same applies to personal relationships. I am capable of having union with my wife because I know where she begins and where she ends, both in body and soul. I am also capable of infidelity because the borders of the marital relationship are clear. A trespassing of these organic and necessary borders will at the very least greatly harm this communion.

All of this also applies to the incarnate Christ and His Church, i.e. His incarnate Body. For the real, incarnate Christ comes to us, not as a warm and fuzzy “idea” bereft of borders, but circumscribed by a very real historical human Body, locatable, tangible, and verifiable in time and space, crucified “under Pontius Pilate.”

This same incarnate Christ founded a Church which is identified exactly with His circumscribed Body: the flesh He received exclusively from the Virgin Mary by the Holy Spirit, the flesh with which He walked the streets of the Middle East, the flesh buried and risen, the same flesh with which He ascended to God the Father and which He still bears and will bear eternally.

It is this Christ whose prayer to His Father expresses the divine desire “that they may be one” – not partially, nor merely in the “basics,” nor as an abstraction, nor in imagination – but “just as We are one” (Jn. 17:22).

It is within this context (and Orthodox Christians believe only within this context) that we can begin a discussion regarding so-called closed communion. The case for closed communion is based not on a negative premise to promote exclusivity but on a positive one that propels and preserves, among other things, the catholicity of the Church (the Greek word katholikosprimarily means fullness, not merely geographical universality). It was practiced uniformly and without controversy from the apostolic period until very recent times and mirrors God’s previous work among His people in the Old Testament. It is founded upon the received tradition that has always formed and informed the Christian understanding of “Church.”

Let me say from the beginning that I acknowledge the sensitive nature of this topic and the strong feelings it can evoke. In no way have I set out to cause offense or to rub salt in any open wounds. Discussions of such central issues as Eucharistic communion should never be decided by emotions, but with a robust and courageous desire for truth and a willingness to bow before what St. Vincent of Lerins called, “what has been believed everywhere, at all times, and by all.”

Defining the Terms

Before moving on to more substantial matters, perhaps a word should be said regarding terminology, for words are no small matter. The early Christian declaration, lex orandi lex credendi (the rule of prayer is the rule of belief), reminds us how our use of words influence our beliefs and vise versa.

The difference between truth and heresy can literally turn on a word, or part of a word, as was the case in the Arian controversy and the word homoousios (“of the same essence”). As our only means to convey reality, words (most especially theological words) are worth fighting for. As G. K. Chesterton so aptly put it:

“What is the good of words if they aren't important enough to quarrel over? Why do we choose one word more than another if there isn't any difference between them? If you called a woman a chimpanzee instead of an angel, wouldn't there be a quarrel about a word? If you're not going to argue about words, what are you going to argue about? Are you going to convey your meaning to me by moving your ears? The Church and the heresies always used to fight about words, because they are the only thing worth fighting about.”

Now I don’t know who first coined the phrase “closed communion,” but I am certain it was not one of the Church Fathers. It is likely quite modern. This in itself might be enough to give me pause in using it. But it seems also to contain an inherent bias and implicit agenda much like other recent secular creations invented to put a positive spin on an old sin, e.g. “pro-choice,” “marriage equality” (who in their right mind could be against choice or equality?!).

Especially in America today, the word “closed” carries negative connotations. One of the worst accusations possible is that of “closed -mindedness.” A politically correct culture will not tolerate anyone or anything that is closed, for to be so is de facto “bigoted” and “intolerant”.

Therefore closed communion – referring to the long-standing tradition of communing only those who are members of a unified body – is becoming an ecclesial “sin.” Ironically, most of us would admit that a healthy society is built upon “closed” marriage.

The point here is that the expression “closed communion” is not an adequate or faithful description of the ecclesiology that undergirds the traditional practice of communion. For in reality there is no such thing as “open” or “closed” communion – there is either communion or there is not. In other words, either there exists a communion of faith expressed in a common understanding of doctrine and worship, sacramental and spiritual practice, or such communion does not exist.

The criteria for a communion of faith here is no different from the boundaries that existed in the first Christian congregation: “And they continued steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship (literally: communion), in the breaking of the bread, and in the prayers.” [1]

A more precise description of what has been practiced for most of Christian history would be called “monogamous communion.” This phrase indicates fidelity and commitment to a tangible, historical tradition and to a body of membership that likewise has committed themselves to the same. It is more faithful to the organic biblical terminology identifying the Church as Christ’s own Body (1 Cor. 12:27), His Bride (Rev. 21:9), the “Israel of God” (Gal. 6:16), “God’s field” and “building” (1 Cor. 3:9), and the Vine to which individual members are then “grafted in” (Rom. 11:17).

As we shall see, “monogamous communion” – the practice of maintaining fidelity to a body of belief as confessed, lived, and embodied tangibly in continuity with and within an identifiable community of believers – is the historical practice of the Church. It has been so, not merely as one option among many, but as the very expression of earliest understanding of ecclesiology.

Some Historical Perspective

It was not until the beginning of the 20^th century that open communion became anything more than highly unusual. Anglicans and Episcopalians, Lutherans, Baptists, Reformed Presbyterians, and Methodists all practiced closed communion at least until that time. [2] That means for close to 1,900 years the sharing of communion between Christians of differing faith was quite exceptional.[3]

Of course both the Orthodox and Catholic restrict the serving of communion to sacramental members of their respective churches. Protestant denominations also followed the long-standing tradition of the ancient Church. Methodists, for instance, were required to renew a “note of admission” to communion quarterly. Among Presbyterians, certificates of good standing were issued to those who, after being examined, were approved.

This normative approach to communal unity was carried on from the founders of the Protestant Reformation, particularly Luther and Calvin. The latter wrote passionately defending the practice of a rigorous examination of beliefs prior to admission to communion.

“For everyone to be admitted to the Lord’s Supper, without distinction or selection, is a sign of contempt that the Lord cannot endure. The Lord himself distributed the supper to his disciples only….No one should be distressed when his Christianity is examined even down to the finest point when he is to be admitted to the Lord’s Supper. It should be established as part of the total state and system of discipline that ought to flourish in the church that those who are judged unworthy should not be admitted."[4]

In addition to concerns for proper instruction and preparation, Luther could not and would not tolerate divergent views of the Eucharist itself among communicants.

“It terrifies me to hear that in one and the same church or at one and the same altar both parties are to find and to receive one and the same Sacrament and one party is to believe that it receives nothing but bread and wine, while the other is to believe that it receives the true body and blood of Christ. And I often wonder whether it is credible that a preacher or shepherd of souls can be so hardened and malicious as to say nothing about this and let both parties go on in this way, receiving one and the same Sacrament, everyone according to his own faith, etc. If such a person exists, he must have a heart harder than any stone, steel, or adamant. He must, in fact, be an apostle of wrath. Whoever, therefore, has such preachers or suspects them to be such, let him be warned against them as against the devil incarnate himself.”[5]

It should be clear from the above that, according to Martin Luther’s own criteria for shared communion, modern day Evangelicals would be prohibited from receiving communion in the Catholic and Orthodox communions.

Even in the first millennium of Christian history, when we see one, tangible, worldwide Christendom, the idea of “open communion” with Christians of divergent views was inconceivable. In the case of heresy, whether Iconoclasm, Monothelitism, Nestorianism, Arianism, Montanism, Gnosticism – all of whom sincerely confessed Jesus Christ as Lord and took the name “Christian” – neither orthodox nor heretic shared the chalice with the other.

Remarkably, this was also true in the event of a “pure” schism, as with the Donatists in North Africa (4^th-5^th c.) and the Novatianists in Rome (AD 251). In each instance these Christians separated from the larger Church in protest for what they saw as disciplinary laxity. While both groups confessed and practiced an identical faith, liturgical and sacramental practice with that of the whole Church, shared communion was never admissible since community was severed.

In the early 2^nd century, the words of Ignatius of Antioch echo those of the apostle Paul (Tit. 3:10) regarding those who hold heretical views. His teaching is particularly pertinent since it relates directly to the nature of the Eucharist itself. Speaking about why these heretical Christians had subordinated the importance and frequency of their own church gatherings, he explains:

“They abstain from Eucharist and [the normative liturgical] prayer because they do not acknowledge that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ which suffered for our sins….It is fitting to keep away from such men….”

We find this understanding in Ignatius and all the early Church Fathers, not in order to promote division, but precisely to promote and preserve a real, substantial, and complete unity. Since the Eucharist reflects the unity that God shares with His Son and Spirit, it is incomprehensible to have union with believers of discordant mind and doctrine. So Ignatius insists that his hearers remain “in one faith and in Jesus Christ” with “the bishop and the presbytery…breaking one loaf, which is the medicine of immortality, the antidote which results not in dying but in living forever in Jesus Christ.” [6]

This leads us to the meaning of communion itself.

What Do We Mean By Communion?

The Holy Trinity: The Model of Communion

The model for the meaning of communion and Christian unity has always been God Himself, the Holy Trinity. While the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are distinct and unique Persons, they are one; not mathematically, but in a communion of persons. The three divine Persons of the Trinity exist together in a perfect communion of love and truth expressed by their common will, energy, and activity.

Through the work of Christ, God restores the potential for the life of communion for which He created man, even taking our humanity into the very bosom of the Holy Trinity in Christ’s ascension. By taking upon Himself a Body, Jesus Christ, one of the Holy Trinity, makes possible the return to this life of communion by being brought into communion with His Body, the Church.

The Church: Communal Life

Through this biblical and patristic perspective we see that communion is not one aspect of the life of the Church, it is the life of the Church. The Church is communion. We see this vividly in the scriptural account of the first church community, for “all who believed were together, and had all things in common” (Ac. 2:44).

Communion is a package deal. It does not happen without reference to the tangible life of the community. It is not an isolated moment where I “take” communion on my own terms, without reference to the community, its corporate faith and life, its tradition. Such a communion never existed in the historical Church.

And this is where the understanding and practice of “open communion” is in direct opposition to the normative Christian understanding: Holy Communion is not just an act of uniting oneself to Jesus Christ, if by that we mean an isolated Person. As Augustine reminds us, since the incarnation and resurrection, Christ is never alone. The “whole Christ,” as he puts it, is Christ with His Body.

Therefore Communion is not only a matter between the Lord and me, it is an act of communion with Christ in community. When I receive Holy Communion I also unite myself with a body of believers and with their doctrinal teaching, worship, life of discipline, and leadership. [7] In partaking of Holy Communion we give ourselves in marriage to a particular body, a specific faith community with a real history and tradition, embodying a real set of beliefs and practices that express those beliefs. We also unite ourselves to all the true members of that particular communion, past, present, and future. Put simply, we become a “member” of that church.

Communion is not only a vertical act of union, i.e. with Christ; it is also horizontal, it unites us with those gathered together as church. Holy Communion is not a “generic” sacrament, disconnected from its ecclesial context. It is the sacrament of a specific and concrete community, united by a specific polity, theology, morality, worship, and spirituality.

According to the historic Christian teaching reflected in the early Church Fathers, admittance to Holy Communion means embracing the entirefaith tradition of the body. Before Holy Communion can be received, communion must already be achieved.

In the patristic understanding then, to receive communion in a Lutheran church implies you have become a member of the Lutheran communion. To receive in a Presbyterian church is to profess union with the Reformed tradition. To receive communion in a Mormon church is to join oneself to Mormon doctrine and tradition and to place oneself in communion with all Mormons throughout the world. Whether we meanto do this or not, is not the point.

Despite the good intentions of John Lenin, there is no imaginary world or church without borders or beliefs. These borders and beliefs matter, especially to human persons who also have borders and freedom to choose their beliefs. These borders and beliefs have consequences. They may bring us into union with God or they may not. In the end this is a blessing because it forces us to make important decisions as to who and what we are really in communion with.

The Old Covenant was no different in this respect. When you joined Israel you joined the whole Israel – the creed, the worship, the rituals, the community, the religious culture, the whole way of life. You did not have the luxury of adopting the tradition of celebrating the Passover but passing over the Feast of Booths, or making sacrifices of thanksgiving but none for sin.

And so the apostle Paul uses organic language when he speaks about the gentiles coming into the communion of the Church, “the Israel of God” (Gal. 6:16). He says they were “grafted in” to the “olive tree” (Rom. 11:17), the Church. Just as were the Jewish converts described in Acts 2, those gentiles who confessed Jesus as the Messiah were grafted into the specific tradition of the apostles, into their “fellowship” (communion), into their “pattern of sound words,” (2 Tim. 1:13), into their life of communal worship, their church order, and way of life.

Church Tradition: The Boundary of Communion

To be in communion with any particular church body is to adopt their church tradition.[8] Though hard to accept for some, according to the Scriptures church tradition is the unifying bond of Christian fellowship. It is the name we give to that body of doctrine, moral teaching, worship, and church polity inherited by a group of believers. In one of his earliest letters the apostle Paul attests to this: “Therefore, brethren, stand fast and hold the traditions which you were taught, whether by word or our epistle” (2 Thess. 2:15). And he praises the Corinthians who “keep the traditions just as I delivered them to you” (1 Cor. 11:2).

The tradition is more than a set of intellectual beliefs. It encompasses a way of life, sets a boundary for what is necessary and true, and either unites or disengages one from communion with others: “But we command you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you withdraw from every brother who walks disorderly and not according to the tradition which he received from us” (2 Thess. 3:6).

Like the Church itself, Church tradition is not invisible or secret. It is something that is lived and has been lived by those who came before. As Paul writes to the Hebrews: “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God; consider the outcome of their life, and imitate their faith ” (Heb. 13:7, RSV). The faith and tradition of any church group can be seen and experienced by observing its corporate life. As Irenaeus, bishop of Lyon, testifies:

“It is within the power of all, therefore, in every church, who may wish to see the truth, to contemplate clearly the tradition of the apostles manifested throughout the whole world.”[9]

What has been passed down and preserved within a church body, i.e. its faith tradition, is what makes it either possible or impossible for us to unite ourselves to that body. If we are not in communion with that tradition, we cannot in clear conscience have Eucharistic communion. If we whole-heartedly accept that tradition, we should be brought into communion with that church and receive Holy Communion monogamously there.

Communal Considerations

All of this is to convey that the practice of “closed” communion is not personal or vindictive. Christians of other confessions are not excluded from Holy Communion based on a judgment of their personal faith, sincerity, or sanctity. Rather they hold to a different Christian tradition and are united to a different Christian body.

According to historical Christianity, the bishop is the guardian and embodiment of the tradition. Following this understanding, the simple litmus test for determining whether one can receive the Eucharist of any particular community is this: “Is my bishop in communion with the bishop of this local church?” If he is, you are also in communion with this church.

It is also worthy of note that churches that maintain the historical practice of monogamous communion, particularly the Orthodox Church, require from church members a good bit of preparation before receiving Holy Communion. This includes a recent confession of sin, fasting from all food and drink, prayers of preparation, reconciliation with those we have offended, etc.

These requirements are not some legalistic yoke with which to burden people, but a guard against casual and negligent reception, or worse, receiving in a state of sin without repentance. The apostle Paul warns that he who does so “eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body. For this reason many are weak and sick among you, and many sleep” (1 Cor. 11:29-30). If we take the Scriptures seriously we can see that not only is “closed communion” prudent, it is a merciful and potentially lifesaving practice!

Conclusion

The Christian Church, like Her Lord, is not an imaginary and invisible abstraction. The tradition of any church is concrete and visible, expressed throughout history by real people in a tangible continuum of faith and practice (whether for 2,000 years or 2 years). Like the Holy Trinity, the Church is a community, a real communion expressed and embodied by a shared faith and way of life. The maintenance of real communion necessitates borders and boundaries, both doctrinal and disciplinary. If a church is to be faithful to it’s own tradition, the door will be opened to some things and closed to others.

Those who characterize the traditional practice as “closed communion” may forget that a church’s communion of faith, and by extension its sacrament, is actually open to all who formally embrace it and unite themselves to it. This is certainly true of the Orthodox Church. It is “closed” only in the way a marriage or a family is closed. While love and hospitality is extended, there are reasonable limits to that hospitality, without which there is no real marriage or family.

A door that is always open is not a door any more. A marriage that is open is not a marriage any more. It is for good reasons that doors swing open and closed. The principles of integrity and monogamy depend upon it.

Few of us would walk into a stranger’s house, head for the refrigerator and help ourselves to a midday snack. Still fewer would demand to beserved that snack by the head of the household. The practice and expectation of “open communion” is a very modern phenomenon without precedence throughout most of Church history. It is founded upon a new ecclesiology unknown to the great Fathers and Saints of the Church. It reflects a loss of the mindset that faithfully preserved the Christian tradition that many of us cherish. And it places us in danger; danger of an imaginary church, an imaginary faith, and an imaginary Christ that will some day disappear from our imaginations altogether.

It is tragic that Christendom is rife with real divisions. Yet by denying this reality we deny ourselves the opportunity and the possibility of the pursuit of truth and conviction. We become the man who never actually buys the cow because he gets the milk for free.

Holy Communion has never been free. The Eucharist, and real communion, comes with the price of monogamy, of standing for and within a tangible faith community and tradition.

In Mere Christianity, which C. S. Lewis wrote only to bring skeptics and seekers to the doorstep of Christian faith, he leaves the reader standing in the hall “out of which doors open into several rooms.” In his analogy the “rooms” are the existing church communions. He makes it clear to the reader that he must eventually choose a room, for the hall (a belief in the basic Christian principles) is not “an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions.”[10] Lewis’ point is that Christians are in the business of monogamy. There is no generic “Christianity,” there never has been. There is only the practice of Christianity with a church body. And there is no church communion called “Mere Christianity.” There are church bodies with real histories, real dogmas (whether consciously recognized or not), and real tradition. As Lewis conveys, we cannot “play church” in the hallway imagining we are really in one of the rooms.

We must seek, ask, knock, and prayerfully make a choice of what tradition we can marry in good faith. And our decision must be made on conviction of truth and authenticity, not on convenience, emotion, or even personal tastes. As Lewis put it: “…you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and paneling.”[11] Without this, my communion is ultimately with “me, myself, and I,” not with the historical Christ, the apostles, and saints.

Endnotes

[1] These two instances of the word “the” in italics are omitted in most English translations, yet they are important because they indicate a specific set liturgical practice.

[2] Communion: A Family Affair: Why the Orthodox Church Practices Closed Communion, A. James Bernstein, Conciliar Press, 1999, p. 2-3.

[3] The Puritan, John Bunyan (17^th c.), has been sited as one of the first promoters of a form of open communion. Even he, however, restricted the practice to those he considered to be “visible saints.” In his own words: “I only exclude him that is not a visible saint. Now he that is visibly or openly profane, cannot be then a visible saint; for he that is a visible saint must profess faith, and repentance, and consequently holiness of life: and with none else dare I communicate.” From http://biblehub.com/library/bunyan/the_works_of_john_bunyan_volumes_1-3/john_bunyan_on_the_terms.htm/

[4] John Calvin, “Letter on Various Subjects” in the book Calvin’s Ecclesiastical Advice. From: http://www.puritandownloads.com/swrb/categories/Lord%27s-Supper-%28Communion%29/).

[5] That These Words of Christ, ‘This is My Body’ Still Stand Firm Against the Fanatics, 1527 , in Luther's Works, Word and Sacrament III, 1961, Fortress Press, volume 37, p. 54.

[6] To the Ephesians, 20:2, p. 84.

[7] The same is true with regard to the sacrament of baptism.

[8] In Greek “tradition” (paradosis) is what has been passed down, delivered or that which has been received and preserved.

[9] Against Heresies 3:3 [A.D. 189].

[10] Mere Christianity, Preface pages xv-xvi, Harper San Francisco, Revised and Enlarged Edition, March 3, 2009. Here is the full quote: “I hope no reader will suppose that ‘mere’ Christianity is here put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions—as if a man could adopt it in preference to Congregationalism or Greek Orthodoxy or anything else. It is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms. If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I attempted. But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals. The hall is a place to wait in, a place from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in. For that purpose the worst of the rooms (whichever that may be) is, I think, preferable.”

[10] Ibid, from the Preface.

Article by Fr. Michael Shanbour

Source: http://orthodoxinfo.com/general/monogamous-communion-a-defense-of-closed-communion.aspx

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