The Catalog of Good Deeds

I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt (Hosea 11:1).

According to Holy Apostle Matthew’s Gospel, King Herod asked the wise men from the Orient, who had come to worship the King of Israel, to inform him about the exact location of the divine Baby, allegedly to come and worship him. However, he had ill intentions. He wanted to murder the Baby instead of worshipping him, because he was scared at the thought of losing his royal status and power.

The wise men received a revelation from God in a dream and departed into their own country another way. Note how the wise men are guided not by astronomical phenomena, like many other pagan sages, but instead receive a revelation from God like the Righteous Joseph and other virtuous men of the Old Testament. The encounter with Jesus was spiritually transformative for those men from the East.

Meanwhile, the angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him. (Matthew 2:13).

Canonical Gospels don’t describe the life of the Holy Family in Egypt; they simply state that they remained there until King Herod’s death. That’s understandable: the Gospels aren’t merely a biography of our Savior; rather, they are an icon that shows us the salvific ministry of the Messiah and his teachings about the Heavenly Kingdom.

And yet, we can learn something about the life of the divine Child and his family in Egypt from literary sources that didn’t make it into the sacred canon of the Scripture. This set of data isn’t authoritative for us neither from the doctrinal nor from historical standpoint. Anyway, those sources contain certain facts about the life of the Holy Family in Egypt, which were accepted as true by some Fathers of the Church and are even mentioned in worship texts.

1. Taming of Wild Beasts

The Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew, written in the 4th century, claims that the Holy Family was accompanied by three young men, allegedly St. Joseph’s sons, and a midwife called Salome. They had two oxen and a cart with their possessions. Along the way, they stopped at a certain cave where they intended to rest. Suddenly, many dragons came out of the cave, obviously scaring the children to death. Jesus stood on his feet before the dragons, and they also adored him and left peacefully. This also fulfilled a prophecy by David who said, Praise the Lord from the earth, ye dragons, and all deeps (cf. Ps. 148:7).

2. Destruction of Idols

According to the Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew, upon arriving in the city, Mary and Jesus went into the temple, and all the 175 idols prostrated themselves before him. In the process, many of them broke into tiny pieces. As soon as the pagan priest who was in the temple saw the idols lying on their faces before Jesus, he confessed Jesus as Lord. This story influenced church tradition, too; in particular, Saint Cyril of Jerusalem pointed out that it was according to God’s plan that Christ went to Egypt to destroy the man-made Egyptian gods (Cathech. 10. 10). Traces of the same story can be found in various liturgical texts, too. For instance, Ikos 6 of the Akathist of the Most Holy Theotokos says, By shining in Egypt the light of truth, Thou didst dispel the darkness of falsehood; for its idols fell, O Savior, unable to endure Thy strength.

3. Two Thieves

According to the Arabic Infancy Gospel, which dates back to the 6th century, two thieves met the Holy Family on their road to Egypt. One of the thieves convinced the other one to let the travelers go. According to that source, they were the same two thieves who would later be crucified with the Savior, one to the right and the other to the left side of the Lord. The thief who hadn’t robbed the travelers went to the paradise.

We don’t know what miracles (if any) Baby Jesus performed in Egypt: this isn’t the main topic of the Gospel. An Orthodox Christian must feed his or her faith with the Word of God and prayer, participation in the life of the Church, and acts of love. The aforementioned narratives weren’t included in the Scripture because the Lord never works miracles for miracles’ sake. He performs miracles for our sake and for the salvation of our souls. The main lesson that we should take out of these stories and commit to memory is that I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt (Hosea 11:1). That prophecy initially referred to Jesus but we can apply it to ourselves, too. God, our Heavenly Father, has saved each and every one of us from Egypt, that spiritual land of death, thanks to his great love. He continues to deliver us, his sons and daughters, from Egypt every day and every hour. He rescues us from the snares of sin so that we could live with God in his Kingdom.

By John Nichiporuk,

a Bachelor of Theology,

specialized in Biblical Studies.

The Catalog of Good Deeds, 2019

See full Nativity infographics here.

Advocates of autonomous morality attack Christian morality as if it were motivated by primitive moral principles: fear of future torments in hell and the desire for a reward in the future life. The Gospel indeed speaks of rewards that await the righteous and punishments that will befall unrepentant sinners. However, nowhere are these rewards and punishments offered as the main, exclusive motivation for a Christian. In fact, these rewards and punishments are not the motivation but the natural end result of one’s lifestyle. Christ explains that the narrow and sorrowful path of life preached by Him has as its natural end eternal joy, while the broad and easy path, counter to the Gospel, culminates in eternal grief, eternal torment. These are not incentives, not external pedagogical methods to force a person to act in a certain way. They are the natural results of a chosen lifestyle, which He warns against and makes abundantly clear. It is long overdo for us to reject that absurd and even blasphemous notion that floated over to us from Catholicism that God rewards us for good deeds and punishes us for evil ones. God does not want anyone to perish but desires all people to be saved and come to knowledge of the truth.

A person destroys himself, since evil deeds frequently repeated make a person evil in his nature and incapable of experiencing that light and joy, which is the natural lot of those who are good. The only motive of Christian morality is love, love for God as our Father and Benefactor. St John the Apostle and Evangelist says, We love Him because He first loved us. (1 John 4:19). And He Himself is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the whole world (1 John 2:2). Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another (1 John 4:10–11). If someone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar: for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen (1 John 4:20)? And this commandment have we from Him: That he who loves God must love his brother also (1 John 4:21). How is our love expressed for God and what is the proof of its sincerity? The Apostle explains: For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments. And His commandments are not burdensome (1 John 5:3).

What could possibly be greater than such motivation? On the other hand, what kind of real incentive does autonomous morality offer us? “Good for goodness’ sake”? Such an idea is very obscure.

By Archbishop Averky of Syracuse

Source: http://classicalchristianity.com/2015/03/19/on-the-motivation-to-do-good/

There was a heretical priest who, for reasons known solely to God, pretended to be Orthodox and became one of the monks in the Hilandar Monastery on Mt. Athos. He stayed there for a while, hiding his evil intentions deep in his heart. He appeared to be a godly man who followed all regulations of the monastery charter and frequented services at church. That heretical priest appeared to many people who saw him as a Christian who deserved that title and who was worthy of the greater title of a priest—a leader for other believers—if not an outright saint. It’s natural, given that human eyes can’t see deep into the others’ hearts and have to judge only by appearances. What hides beneath? What are the secret thoughts that are lurking inside that visible surface? What is the person after? Does his visible outward life agree with his invisible inner desires? Humans can’t tell. However, the heretical priest was clearly blinded by this fact. He must have forgotten that even though he managed to keep his ill intentions secret from other people, he still couldn’t hide them from the Omniscient God who knows all secrets hidden in the dark corners of human hearts. Nothing can hide from Him.

The most holy Virgin Mother of God the Omniscient looked down from the height of her throne and, in her righteous fury, wiped that wolf in sheep’s clothes from the face of the earth before he managed to accomplish any of his malevolent plans. When the priest was carrying the Priestly icon of the Mother of God during a procession, he fell into the sea during the consecration of waters and drowned.

Since that time, the monks carry this wonderworking icon during all processions and consecration of waters. Given that only priests carry it, the Serbian monks named it ‘Popskaya’, lit. ‘Priestly’. That’s one of the most likely explanations for the peculiar name of this icon of the Mother of God.

However, there is a different explanation of the name. The wonderworking icon is honored as the patron of church singers; that is why the fingers of Baby Jesus are crossed in the same manner as the fingers of a precentor who gives his choir a sign to start singing. Due to the fact that Greek church singers used to refer to the knowledge of scores and the ability to read sheet music as ‘the priestly art’, the icon received its name.

The Priestly Icon of the Mother of God is located in the cathedral church of Hilandar Monastery on a column next to the left choir loft. Every priest who celebrates any service utters the dismissal, i.e., the words May Christ our true God, through the intercessions of His most pure Mother, of our holy and God-bearing fathers and of all the saints, have mercy on us and save us, for He is good and the Lover of mankind in front of this wonderworking icon of the Queen of Heaven.

Translated by The Catalog of Good Deeds

Source: https://azbyka.ru/days/ikona-popskaja-ierejskaja

– What are the obstacles for you and for our contemporaries on the road to salvation?

– You know, I don’t want to theorize. There is much written on this topic by people who know a lot more about it and who are authorized to answer this question. I can only say about myself.

We talk about topics like those at our monastic meetings; however, everyone talks about herself and doesn’t insist on setting a general rule. You cannot teach anyone anything by retelling someone else’s ideas. The ideas, doubts, and conclusions must be your own. Right now, my life in the Convent, my thoughts and prayers lead me to believe that God is not limited by anything and doesn’t limit us, either. Salvation may come from everywhere and by all kinds of means, even those you’d never think of. Suffice it to say that I hadn’t thought that the way to my salvation was through monasticism three months prior to my becoming a nun. There are people who had considered becoming a nun since their childhood years, and their dreams came true at last when they made it to the Convent. There were people who used to consider this path but never showed up: their salvation must lie elsewhere. Our plans are so delusional! They can be ruined at the slightest touch of God’s hand—and be rebuilt as new, completely different, plans.

Salvation of a human being is a collaborative and creative process. God won’t and doesn’t want to save man without the man’s own effort. God can do everything but He has granted us free will, and it’s his most vital gift. He doesn’t violate it. God violates the natural laws that He established only when He wants to make a miracle. It isn’t my own idea. I just absorb what I find useful and then share it with others.

As far as obstacles are concerned… Perhaps, there are people who can see many obstacles. Personally, I can see only one obstacle, i.e., human pride. That’s it: there are no other obstacles to our salvation. You can be a rock star, a plumber, a priest, or a Japanese man who doesn’t know anything about Christianity. God will find the way to save you and lead you into His Kingdom. Just seek Him as hard as you can. Our choir performs a song with the following lyrics: “Seek ye God, seek Him with tears. Seek God, o people, until it’s too late. Seek Him everywhere, seek Him each of you, and you’ll find Him eventually.” That’s basically the meaning of life for a Christian: to seek God. Always. Continuously. How does one seek God? Every person has his or her own way of doing it.

October 4, 2018

St. Elisabeth Convent

I’m not their descendant, and that’s it. That’s why it sounds so scandalous. I’ve read a lot on this topic, but just as I didn’t believe in it before that, I still don’t now.

I’ll also mention that on a social media page, one Orthodox girl wrote a beautiful thought: “I’m not ashamed to be a daughter of the Heavenly Father. Let those whose ancestors are apes be ashamed.” (Note: Later in the article Fr. Valery refers specially to “primitive apes,” referring to the common ape-like ancestor that humans and apes supposedly share in common.) I am also not ashamed that I am a son of the Heavenly Father (albeit a sinner, but a son; after all, in the Gospel there is the Prodigal Son—a son not rejected by his father), and my soul does not accept the theory of evolution.

I’m ashamed when fellow priests write to me, who say with conviction, “Evolution is a proven fact; every student knows this; it’s obvious! How can you so ignorantly dismiss the evidence?” Sometimes they send articles and materials on the topic. But you might as well talk to a brick wall: Just as my soul wouldn’t accept it before, it still won’t accept it now.

For some reason, the words of St. Paisios the Athonite and the Holy Hierarch Luke (Voino-Yasenetsky) sound more convincing. One was uneducated in worldly terms but acquired the Holy Spirit and therefore also the gift of insight; the other was the greatest of scientists who thoroughly knew the human body. And they both speak as one about the falsity of the theory of evolution. And it’s not just them. It’s a common Patristic intuition, whether it’s St. Theophan the Recluse or St. Seraphim of Sarov (to whom people attribute evolutionary views in vain, apparently not having read his pages in full, taking only a few words), or whether it’s the New Martyrs and Confessors of the Russian Church: Hieromartyr Vladimir (Bogoyavlensky), Hieromartyr Nikolai (Pokrovsky), Monk-Martyr Varlaam (Nikolsky), the Holy Hierarch Makary (Nevsky), and many others. In the Greek Church there is St. Nektarios of Aegina, and in the Serbian Church—St. Nicholai (Velimirovic). No matter which saint—they reject evolution.

The same St. Theophan openly wrote about the ideologues of evolution:

They have heaped up a multitude of fanciful suppositions for themselves, elevated them to the status of irrefutable truths and plumed themselves on them, assuming that nothing can be said against them. In fact, they are so ungrounded that it is not even worthwhile speaking against them. All of their sophistry is a house of cards – blow on it and it flies apart. There is no need to refute it in its parts; it is enough to regard it as one regards dreams. When speaking against dreams, people do not prove the absurdity in their composition or in their individual parts, but only say, ‘It’s a dream,’ and with that they resolve everything. It is the same with the theory of the formation of the world from a nebula and its supports, with the theory of abiogenesis and Darwin’s origin of genera and species, and with his last dream about the descent of man. It is all like delirium. When you read them you are walking in the midst of shadows. And scientists? Well, what can you do with them? Their motto is “If you don’t like it, don’t listen, but don’t prevent me from lying.”

St. Ambrose of Optina counseled those who came to him: “Don’t believe at face value all kinds of nonsense without investigation: that something can come into being [of itself] from dust, and that people used to be apes.”

Why can’t I agree with the position of the saints?

And how much should I distort Scripture to argue that Adam had anthropoid parents, that is, a redundant couple that fell away into nothingness after their purpose was up? How would Adam feel, seeing their deaths in Paradise, himself being a descendant of death, giving birth to likewise mortal descendants? Where is life here, if death reigns all around the primordial Adam? Why redeem him from sin if he is a child of death not because of sin, but because of biological laws? What sin is there to speak of if there are just animal instincts, subject neither to reason nor human will?

How should I interpret revelation, believing that Adam’s poor ancestors chased one another with mouths agape, and whoever was smarter found the first club? What is this crown of creation, crammed with ancient irresistible instincts that we mistakenly call passions? What sin is there to speak of if, I repeat, the whole theory of evolution speaks of passions as animalistic necessities, inherent in any biological creature? Let’s not deceive ourselves: There’s nothing angelic, and what’s more, nothing according to the image of God in principle in such creatures. Conscience, and ethics, and etiquette—everything in this paradigm is a result of evolution, driven by death.

And the Bible itself, in their conception, is, to add insult to injury, the product of the evolution of ancient myths and epic tales, included in religious collections and carefully redacted through the centuries. What Divine revelation is there here if everything is the continuous evolution of myths?

No, we will not be deceived. The theory of evolution works for destruction.

Now I’ll say something that won’t be scandalous because it’s an obvious fact.

Science studies the world in its fallen state, according to the loss of the paradisiacal harmony, according to the Fall of man and the invasion of the law of death and corruption into the universe created by God. Therefore, the starting axiom of the theory of evolution is death: How would species have evolved if no one died before Adam? How does an ape become human if the weakest don’t die to leave space for the miracle-mutation—man?

Therefore, the cosmogony of evolution moves from the unsuccessful to the accidentally successful, from the excess waste material of living beings that didn’t limp their way to biological perfection to new species accidentally fixed at new stages. That is, in their conception, God couldn’t hold on until the creation of a beautiful, harmonious, perfect world. But then, what God is there in evolution?! Their God is evolution itself, a kind of wizard, alchemist, casting magic spells from one nature to another, from a crocodile to a pterodactyl, from a bear to a whale, from a lama to a giraffe, from a primitive ape to a human. All of this is taken from their books. What would he do—this crocodile—when his feet morph over the generations into stumps, to then turn into pterodactyl wings? Who will help this evolutionary invalid, whose paws mutate but has no wings yet? But for those to whom it’s interesting, evolution was contrived by a wily alchemist.

Science sees a picture of the world in its broken state, with the remnants of a harmony, but the obvious loss of the paradisiacal harmony. How can the current realities be transferred to the beginning of our existence?

Let these scholars of the mind tell us what microscope or what super-electron equipment, what analysis they can use to study the Resurrected Christ and the state of His Body at His Resurrection; His nature—in need of no food, of breathing the air, lacking natural necessities, inaccessible to microbes and bacteria, diseases, and ailments—in general, a nature in which there is no death, but life, and moreover, life everlasting, without old age and wrinkles, without “I want to eat” or “I have to go to the bathroom;” a nature fully human but equal to the angels, having defeated death and corruption? How would they define the nature of the True Man, resurrected for us in order to return the paradisiacal harmony to us? How can they touch the nature of the first Adam, whose qualities we lost as soon as Adam severed his connection with God? This is why the New Adam—Christ—came. He returned immortality to people, returned that which was lost in Paradise, and gave us yet more; and they say that Adam was born from death and the entire first-created world was filled with death, destruction, and ruination as something wholly natural. What would Christ return to us then if everything was controlled by mutation from the beginning?

How can they investigate the ever-virginity of the Mother of God, where God the Holy Spirit acted rather than the laws of biology?

No, science will not say a word about what is higher than the created world and higher than disintegrating nature, about deification, about the transfiguring action of the grace of God. It can say nothing about the condition of the world before the entrance of the law of sin into it.

Studying the world according to the Fall, we only see part of the picture of the universe. So how can we believe such science?!

This is why those who have acquired grace, who ascended to the contemplation of Christ and His Uncreated Light even during this life, that is—neither you nor I, but holy people—live by a different intuition. This intuition leaves the scientific data of the moral world behind in view of the first-created paradisiacal world. Studying the world according to the Fall and man in his sinful state, we only see part of the picture—that is, not even close to everything. Science that has studied only part is not objective, not seeing the whole picture—neither in the universe nor in man himself.

It’s hard to reach an agreement with people who have varying views on origins. The connection with our genealogy is like a pillar of existence, the core, defining the man and his behavior. Everyone takes something from his genealogy, copies it in life, and some justify themselves, citing their ancient origins. The choice is up to us all.

I understand that in response they’ll splatter formulas and data from biology, geology, archaeology, paleontology and all the rest, and evidence from Ilya Prigogine, Stephen Hawking, and the other luminaries of this world. They’ll say, “How are you not the descendant of a primitive ape? Look, see for yourself.” No, my friends, I am not their descendant, though you may kill me with the same ancient club. The proponents of evolution are my brothers and sisters, but a chimpanzee is not my brother, and a monkey is not my sister.

In the Gospel of Luke, we read about the genealogy of Christ, and it is written there that He, according to His humanity, traces back to the root of the species, the son of …. Enos, Seth, Adam, and God (Lk. 3:38). There is no other ancestor between the first man Adam and His Creator God—no transitional link.

Which is closer and dearer to us—Christ with His transfigured nature, or a myth about the origin of the tailed primates?

By Fr. Valery Dukhanin

Translated by Jesse Dominick

Source: http://orthochristian.com/115053.html

Things hidden in plain sight tend to be the hardest to find. That was exactly the case with me and Home Alone movie. For years, I understood it in all possible ways, with the sole exception of the one that was really central to this Christmas story. The thoughtful authors even used that core lesson as the title (probably for slow-witted people like me). It took me a quarter of a century to read those two simple words properly.

At first, I thought that the movie was a modern reading of The Ransom of Red Chief, a short story by O. Henry, set up around Christmas this time. O. Henry’s story is about a hyperactive and spoiled boy who can drive two unlucky abductors crazy. The little protagonist of Home Alone uses the classic Native American methods of combat, i.e., pawky traps, ambushes, crossbows, nets, and other tools against the dumb grown-up thugs. The scriptwriters decided to add a didactic touch to this action movie about the young Rambo because it’s a Christmas story, after all. The boy behaves badly, he is punished. Infuriated, he tells his family, “I wish you weren’t there.” Magically, his wish comes true. He remains alone and endures serious ordeals until he finally concludes that one’s family is the most valuable asset that a person can have.

In short, it’s a decent well-crafted sitcom with a bit of morals, what else can there be? In fact, there’s so much else to be said about it.

Lately, I’ve recognized another layer of meaning in this movie. It comprises the core message of this movie, which is hard to see because it’s so obvious.

The main character found himself alone in his home not when his family left him. He is always alone. He is alone in the midst of his family who for some reason rejected him and didn’t want to share the warmth and joy of human interaction with him. He is alone even though he has brothers and sisters, a good-looking mom and a handsome dad. Does it matter if his brothers and sisters can only ridicule him and mock at him, while his parents are always busy doing something that they deem important and pay attention to Kevin only when he attempts to defend himself against the mockery of his older brother, an insolent hypocrite, in which case they invariably side with the offender.

The movie doesn’t show us a withdrawn kid who cannot get along with people. The protagonist is open for friendship and normal interaction. He is capable of getting along extremely well with perfect strangers like the toy store owner or the homeless woman in the Central Park. He easily adapts to unexpected situations, openly voices his thoughts and feelings, hurries to help, respects other people, and values friendship.

Nonetheless, it happens only outside of the family. He is painfully alone at his own home. Undoubtedly, it isn’t Kevin who is to blame for that. His attempts at restoring contact with his family are immediately and rudely blocked by them.

Even when his family returns—after the happy encounter, mom’s hugs and displays of mutual affection and all—the boy immediately receives the usual portion of mockery and scoffing. Remember when the family suddenly returns from another city and the mom is worried that she hadn’t bought milk for breakfast? Kevin wants to please his parents and says that he had already been to the store and bought some food. That’s when the scene that explains it all starts. Instead of being grateful, his closest relatives pour on him a whole lot of dismissive remarks:

—I went shopping yesterday.

—You, shopping?

—I got some milk, eggs and fabric softener.

—What?

—No kidding? What a funny guy. What else did you do while we were away?

—Just hung around.

—He went shopping? He doesn’t know how to tie his shoe. He’s going shopping?

That’s it. Kevin is home alone again. The real loneliness begins for him as soon as his parents and siblings come back. Only while they are away can Kevin lead a normal life of a person who is looking for love and who shares his love with those ready to accept it. He knows from his own painful experience what it means to be rejected so he understands rejected people better. The old man next door who was kicked out of his son’s life for some reason, a homeless bird-loving woman with a broken heart: those disaffected and weary adults miraculously come back to life when Kevin gets into their lives with his simple but honest words of support. Suddenly, it dawns on you that it weren’t words that made the miracle happen: the love and compassion of the good-humored and unusually wise boy did.

Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves? And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise. Home Alone shows a paradoxical story of the main character willing to show mercy toward his relatives who, for reasons that are hard to explain, refuse to accept it because of their stubbornness. So he sets out to find those who want to be close to him, that is to accept his love and care.

There must be a miracle in a Christmas story, after all. I believe that it was Kevin who was the real miracle of the movie, with his pure soul and a heart open for everyone who needs help.

At the end of the first episode, Kevin smiles as he looks out of the window at the old neighbor’s son and his wife who came to visit the lonely old man. The man isn’t alone any longer. At the end of the second episode, Kevin leaves his family, who are busy unwrapping the presents that he’d earned, and hurries to the park to congratulate the homeless woman on Christmas and to give her a dove-shaped Christmas tree toy as a sign of his friendship.

Apparently, his true friends were those who felt even more lonely and whom Kevin helped to break free from this isolation. Unfortunately, he still remained alone at his own home.

That’s the message that I’ve taken out of this old Christmas movie. It seems that the authors wanted to address the viewers: “Look around: are there people in your families who stay alone like Kevin? Are some of your relatives rejected and sentenced to isolation within their own family? Stop being mad at them: show mercy to those people. Give them the chance to love you and to be loved by you.”

God said that it isn’t good for a person to be alone. Especially if one finds himself alone at home among his or her family.

By Aleksandr Tkachenko
Translated by The Catalog of Good Deeds

Source: https://foma.ru/odin-doma-2.html

Dear friends! The Catalog of Good Deeds team starts a new series of personal stories devoted to the Feast of the Nativity. Our brothers and sisters are going to share with you some of their brightest Christmas memories from their childhood and explain how that influenced their own perception of this Great Feast.

I remember how my family came together to celebrate Christmas. I was always looking forward to the time when our relatives came to visit us. There was a big and brilliant Christmas tree with lots of colorful lights, festoons, tinsel strips of many colors, and cotton wool snow. There were many candies on that tree, some of which had already been eaten by us kids. We had tables with lots of simple but delicious dishes. The main part of the holiday was when we sat down at the table together. Everyone was happy and smiling. There were bursts of laughter, games, songs, and dance, as well as lots of good tidings. It was always so sad when our relatives had to go. I always wanted to talk them into staying longer. However, when they left, we gleefully hoped to meet them again.

Oftentimes, I have a feeling similar to what I used to feel during my blissful trouble-free childhood.

Christ is born; glorify Him! Christ comes from heaven; come to welcome Him! Christ is on earth; lift up your hearts! Sing to the Lord, O earth! Be exalted and sing with hearty gladness, O ye people, sing His praise for He is glorified! (Irmos of the Nativity of Christ Canon).

By Brother Sergey (Losev),

the Senior Brother of the Catalog of Good Deeds team

I celebrated Christmas for the first time in my life when I was 24. I remember how I went to the nocturnal liturgy at Ss. Peter and Paul Cathedral in Minsk with my friends from an Orthodox youth fellowship. The famous choir of Irina Denisova sang in that cathedral in those times. Currently, that choir is known as the Festive Choir of St. Elisabeth Convent conducted by Nun Juliania (Denisova). I remember the unforgettable impression that I had after hearing the Cherubic Hymn in znamenny chant. I had, in fact, heard the recording of the same cherubic hymn on an album of theirs. Needless to say, no recording could accurately convey the singers’ live voices. I couldn't take communion at that time because I wasn't baptized yet. Perhaps, this service was one of the most significant events in my life, which led me to be baptized six months later.

The service was over but the night wasn't. We had some tea with delicious food which we had brought to the church in advance. Aside from that, we sang Christmas carols and other Christian songs, and had a conversation about God and faith. Most essentially, we could feel that we were one family and that God was with us. It was that unforgettable Christmas night that determined my life for many years to come.

By Brother Vladimir (Sypchu),

a customer manager, a member of the Catalog of Good Deeds team

The most fantastic and unparalleled Christmas memory of mine is a metal Christmas tree-shaped candle holder, which my uncle, who was a long-haul driver, brought from East Germany. When the top of the Christmas Tree was heated up by the candles, it would spin and ring. Few people could go abroad in the late 1980s. That was why none of my friends had a Christmas tree like that. I recall a winter evening in the countryside. The oven was hot and made the entire house warm. The room was dark. The candles were on the table and the Christmas Tree top was spinning and making the sounds. As years went by, I lost some of its parts and now I don't even know where it is. Nevertheless, the warm magic of that long-gone Christmas night is still alive in my heart. I don't know where to buy a Christmas tree like that so if you tell me, I'll be immensely grateful.

By Sister Tatiana (Zhedik),

a customer manager, a member of the Catalog of Good Deeds team

I often hear stories from people I’ve met along the way about the path that lead them to Orthodoxy. More often than not‚ these stories involve books by particular authors or saints whose writings made an influence on their perspective and opened them up to the wealth of the teachings of the Church. These are stories of beautiful and brilliant minds seeking truth amidst the pages of history‚ leaving no stone unturned until they found the true path. I sincerely wish I could give you such a brave story of my conversion. The thing is‚ I can’t manage to retrace my steps through books or knowledge‚ though I did read a lot while turning to Orthodoxy. The best picture I can use to describe my journey is this: if these people I mentioned were striding resolutely up the steps to the Church‚ I was on my belly pulling myself up by my hands‚ so to speak. I had to have some help to get here. I didn’t choose Orthodox Christianity because it became clear to me that its theological and historical claims were true — although that certainly did happen at some point. I chose Orthodox Christianity because of something much more obscured from my human eyes. A mysterious and Divine magnetism that lifted me up off my hands‚ pulled me into the Church‚ and allowed me to see and feel for myself‚ albeit only to some human‚ limited extent‚ what prayer is about. Though I had made a routine of mocking Christianity and its devotions‚ Christ had patience for me and simply stood there‚ beckoning me with this call: Come and see.

I was born into a Baptist home which turned into a Messianic Jewish home when I was about seven years old. I could literally write an entire book explaining what Messianic Juadaism actually is and detailing my growth within this faith tradition from this young age‚ but instead I’ll skip ahead a few years to the time I started taking my spiritual and religious life somewhat seriously. At a younger age‚ I saw how older people were inclined to read the Bible and pray‚ whereas my every inclination was to run around outside or build cities out of LEGOs. I assumed that one day I would magically become interested in the life of faith and it wouldn’t be such an effort to sit down and pray or read the Bible. Of course‚ I was wrong. Yet still‚ for the first time‚ I felt myself naturally asking questions about what it is that God expects from us when I was about twelve. When you reach the age where you start to become aware of the effects of your sinfulness‚ these questions start to brew in you involuntarily. I approached a young pious man who I looked up to‚ and asked him how the Law is kept. This young man taught me about the Old Testament and its context within Jewish tradition‚ and we began a many-year-long conversation on observance‚ which included my family and other dear friends as well. Fast forward several years‚ we had some knowledge under our belts. Knowledge of Jewish tradition‚ Jewish scriptural exegesis‚ ethics‚ Hebrew language‚ practical Talmudic law‚ liturgics‚ and even some aspects of Jewish mysticism. The only area of knowledge remaining that we couldn’t seem to develop was the New Testament. It became the red-headed stepchild of our Jewish experience‚ a roadblock to conversion and an impossible task to fit into our spiritual regimen.

This is where some of us parted ways for little bit. I will speak only of the direction I went. It’s surprising to many how religious scholasticism in the western world has actually influenced much of Judaism and its academic praxis. I became obsessed with this side of things. I toted copies of Maimonides and Yehuda Halevi to school with me‚ absorbing and attempting to apply each minutia of Mishnaic law and digesting each morsel of Aristotelian-influenced Jewish rationalist philosophy. All pretty complicated and important stuff‚ I thought. This is where pride led me into some dangerous places‚ inwardly and outwardly. I became cynical toward my Christian upbringing and quickly demolished whatever belief in a Divine Christ I had left. I chanted every Friday night the Yidgal‚ a Maimonidean creed of Jewish faith‚ particularly the line declaring:

“….He is One — and there is no unity like His Oneness — Inscrutable and infinite is His Oneness; He has no semblance of a body nor is He corporeal…”

With each theological dogma I rearranged in my head‚ the effect rippled all the way through to my soul. When pride in my own human reasoning took root and Jesus suddenly became merely a created man and no more‚ my insides began to wither. On the outside‚ I was striding towards more perfect performance of the Law of Moses‚ but within me the law of death was gaining victory. At that point‚ I began to consider complete conversion to Judaism. In defiance and bitterness towards Christ‚ I was fully resolved to make a formal renunciation of Christianity and embrace the pharisaic orthodox Jewish tradition.

By God’s mercy‚ I was delayed due to some practical issues. I was unable to move to an orthodox community and frankly I lacked the wisdom to even know how to choose one. I stayed put and kept studying with my friend who I had started out with. It was then that my friend‚ who had a long-running love for Christian history and dialogue‚ began to talk about Orthodox Christianity a lot. The mere idea was revolting to me. I had all the answers‚ why did we need to keep looking for a “home for Jesus” in our life of faith? Is the wealth of tradition in Orthodoxy a good enough of a reason to go back into the same faith system I’ve tried to get away from. In my ignorance‚ I had no idea what Orthodox Christianity’s faith actually was. It just sounded Christian and brought back memories of standing in my whitewashed Church as a young child singing “Our God is and Awesome God” with a slightly off-beat drummer. Yet something mysterious began to act on me‚ in time. I began to take interest in the raw beauty aspect of the Church. I searched the web for pictures of churches‚ icons‚ etc…. I developed a benign appreciation for Orthodox worship. It was nothing like my earliest Christian memories such as I described. This is what I meant by my approach to the Church being like crawling up stairs. I didn’t search the Church’s books for sound arguments for the Divinity of Christ‚ because my heart was not open to that. It was‚ however‚ open to art and the sheer beauty and mystery of Byzantine chant. As I began to dabble in Church aesthetics‚ I began to see myself being able to truly worship God within these forms. I saw a video somewhere of a monk at St. Katherine’s Monastery of Mt. Sinai‚ tediously beating out a rhythm on the semantron‚ walking up the stairs of the tower to the bells‚ and then masterfully weaving a brilliant web of mysterious sounds. Somehow I instantly related to this kind of strange and foreign ritual‚ and I recognized it as prayer. Gradually‚ the possibility of prayer became a key factor that pulled me into the Church. Between kabbalistic meditation and breathing techniques on one hand‚ and wrote memorization and lifeless recitation of a legally portioned amount of liturgical texts on the other‚ Judaism had failed to provide a place where I could truly pray‚ where I could strip away the masks of cheap piety and stand before the Divine in reverence and fear of Heaven.

Heaven was just what I recognized upon entering an Orthodox Church for the first time (well‚ apart from a brief visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre while on a vacation in Jerusalem when I was ten years old). I recognized the smell of incense from that time in Jerusalem immediately. That little connection of childhood nostalgia opened my heart even wider. The chorus of beautiful elements the Church’s liturgical life which were presented to me as tools of prayer grew louder and louder until I had to take it seriously. I couldn’t deny that something was there — beyond the icon of Christ‚ there was a man‚ and at the same time something more than just a man. Fueled by a desire for prayer and spiritual life‚ I began a process that continues to this day‚ of accepting that I cannot fully digest this idea of Christ as the “God-Man” like I could digest the Jewish “static” monotheism. I can’t pinpoint a definite moment where I accepted that Christ was indeed God and Man‚ but the text of On the Incarnation by St. Athanasius helped my brain to quench its unquenchable objections. I began reading various Orthodox books‚ old and new‚ and began‚ through God’s steadfast mercy and love‚ rebuilding the faith I once tried to demolish. I must end my story here‚ because this is where I am now. I am still a spiritual infant‚ learning the basics of the Gospel and allowing‚ or at least trying to allow Christ to conquer this flesh rebuild me from the ground up. I eagerly await Baptism‚ Chrismation‚ and Communion‚ and though I am ignorant and blind to the true significance of the Sacraments‚ I know I need them. Please pray for me.

By Daniel Bishop

Source: http://dialogues.stjohndfw.info/2016/04/beaut-mistery-divine-magnetism-conversion-story/

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