The Catalog of Good Deeds

I have a question about something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’ve read that the Church canons say that you are not supposed to kneel or prostrate on Sundays, but I was wondering how strictly that’s interpreted in practice?

I currently attend a Romanian parish and among Romanians (as you probably know) it is customary to kneel during the Our Father, the Creed, the Gospel reading etc. and some people kneel throughout much of the liturgy. I personally think it is a beautiful sign of reverence but I was wondering why it has become customary and accepted in Romania but not in other places, and if the “prohibition” against kneeling on Sundays is really necessary or what the purpose of it really is?

I know some other parishes where people barely show any reverence at all so it still seems to me to be better to kneel or prostrate than to just be completely passive…

Question from a Correspondent in Europe

‘Since some people kneel in church on Sundays and on the days of Pentecost, with a view to preserving uniformity in all parishes it has seemed best to the holy Council for prayers to be offered to God while standing’.

Canon XX of the First Universal Council

The canons you refer to are the above, Canon XC of the Sixth Universal Council and Canon XV of St Peter the Martyr of Alexandria, all from the first seven centuries. So, yes, on paper, you do not kneel on the liturgical day of Sunday (Saturday evening to Sunday evening) and not between Easter and Pentecost (the kneeling prayers read at Vespers of Pentecost are the first when you kneel). Why? Because Sunday is the day of the Resurrection and the period between Easter and Pentecost effectively the afterfeast of the Feast of the Resurrection. If we are risen with Christ, then we are risen and so stand.

So much for the theory. What about practice?

One of the easiest ways to tell the difference between certain converts and Orthodox is whether they kneel on Sundays or not (especially on the Sunday of the Cross during Lent). Converts, whether of the zealot old calendarist or of the liberal new calendarist variety (extremes always meet), refuse to kneel because of their head knowledge, Orthodox kneel because of the movements of their hearts. As one person has said in answer to an uptight convert who insisted that Orthodox stand during services: ‘No they don’t: Russians stand, Greeks sit and Romanians kneel’.

Why this difference? It is all a question of piety – or lack of piety. Sitting is a lack of piety (unless the person is ill, heavily pregnant etc), which has entered the Greek Churches (including the Antiochian) only very, very recently. Pious Russians are horrified when Greeks and Antiochians sit during the Epistle. But kneeling is a great sacrifice. I admire those Romanians who kneel throughout the liturgy as an act of piety which accords with their temperament. I don’t think I could do it physically. Equally standing is also a matter of asceticism.

A common Russian practice among bishops and priests is to kneel at certain points during the Liturgy, for example during ‘Our Father’.

Certain converts, often of a Protestant background, tend to interpret the canons literally, according to the letter. Such individuals, it seems, used to be fundamentalists in their interpretation of the Scriptures, and quote canons as they used to quote chapter and verse, hoping perhaps to send their fellow human-beings to hell (and themselves to a very prideful heaven). If this is the case, then it is all pure phariseeism. (‘Do not heal or do good on the Sabbath day’).

Conclusion: Pray and then do what your heart tells you to do, observing those around you, so that you scandalize no-one. This is called humility and it stands above the letter of the law because it keeps the spirit of the law. When I as a priest see metropolitans and bishops, or for that matter pious laypeople, kneeling on a Sunday, I have no hesitation in kneeling with them. We should refuse to put ourselves above others. I only know that of Christ returns next Sunday, I will neither sit, nor stand, but be on my knees in front of Him.

By Fr Andrew Phillips

Source: http://www.events.orthodoxengland.org.uk/can-we-kneel-in-church-on-sundays/

I met Irakli Gogoladze in Samtavro Monastery. Out of the blue this young man of about twenty-five walked up to me and said, “You know, Elder Gabriel worked a miracle for me… I heard that a collection was being made of such stories. Could you please tell me who I could send this to?” I said reverently and happily, “I’m the translator and compiler of the Russian version of the book, The Elder’s Diadem…” Without letting me finish, filled with emotion he began telling me his story. I turned on the dictaphone and… listened to him tell me about one miraculous healing by Elder Gabrial (Ugrebadze). I would like to share this story with you, dear readers.

A miracle happened in my family through Elder Gabriel.

Elder Gabriel wasn’t yet canonized when I first heard about him. Our first “encounter” was when I was, I think, in the seventh grade and visited Samtavro Monastery with my friends. Still only a child, I was amazed by everything I saw at the elder’s grave—first of all by the unbelievable amount of people who came to venerate there. Without any real awareness of what I was doing I also approached the grave, and that was when my friendship with Elder Gabriel began. Bowing at the grave, I felt enormous grace. My heart was filled with love. Feeling this inner joy I wanted to shout as loud as I could, “I LOVE YOU ALL!” Nun Parasceva gave us some oil from the lampada over the grave of Elder Gabriel and explained how to anoint ourselves with it. I felt as though I had obtained some invincible power. And that is how it was!

A few months passed by, and disaster struck our home. My father fell sick with psoriasis. We made the circuit to all the hospitals but his was such a severe form and advanced stage that none of them would even receive us. After some time, through the intercessions of our relatives, my father was received in the Tbilisi hospital for skin and venereal diseases. The treatment went very slowly. The doctors said that he would need at least four months to completely recover. One night my father had a heart attack, and they were barely able to save his life. Then I remembered the elder, on whose grave miraculous healings take place. I ran home, took the oil from the lampada over Elder Gabriel’s grave, and came to the hospital. The doctors were not allowing anyone into his room, but when I explained the situation they agreed and allowed me in secretly. I went to my father, and he was sleeping. With my little finger I anointed him with the oil three times in the form of a cross, read the “Our Father,” and asked the elder with all my heart to heal my father. Then I left without a word.

In the morning, mother and I came along with a friend to the hospital. We went to my father’s room… to be more exact, we ran with horror when we heard the nurse’s shriek: “It can’t be!” We thought, well, it’s the end! My mother fainted. I was seized with trembling that I had no strength to control. I went into the room and saw my father sitting on the bed. I was stunned. He had no more rash on his body or face; his skin was like that of a newborn babe. Soon the head doctor came into the room—the same one who had allowed me to visit my father. I will never forget the expression on his face in that moment when he saw his patient with absolutely clear skin! The doctor began to weep and cross himself, saying, “Glory to God… Glory to that elder…” Then my father stopped us and asked what elder we were talking about. I wasn’t even able to start telling him about Elder Gabriel before my father told us about the dream he had that night. It was as if a priest with a gray beard came into the room and said to him, “Eh, my brother… Well, so far you haven’t once received Communion or had confession, but you have a believing son and wife who called me here. I can’t bear to see how they cry… Here, let me heal you, and you start living a religious life. Go to church often, confess and receive Communion. Then we’ll be friends… Otherwise, I’m not your friend. Get it?” He winked to my father, made the sign of the cross over him and left…

I wept—everyone in the room was weeping! Despite the fact that my father had never seen the elder in his lifetime, his description of the “priest” fit completely with St. Gabriel.

Glory to Thee, O God! Glory to thee, father Gabriel!

By Irakli Gogoladze

Source: http://www.orthochristian.com/90191.html

Byzantium... Everyone has his or her own perception of that legendary empire renowned for its great saints and emperors, marvelous icons and mosaics, magnificent Churches and palaces. Majestic Hagia Sophia is the wonder of the world and the epitome of Byzantine architecture. Besides that, Byzantine music is an undisputed part of the heritage of mankind.

“My Byzantium” album is a collection of chants, which should help modern listener contemplate on above-mentioned treasures of the ancient Byzantium. The album was created by Edward Lange, a soloist of the Festive Choir of St Elisabeth Convent in Minsk. Edward Lange is a graduate of Belarusian State Academy of Music who is known to have composed music with lyrics by Hieromonk Roman (Matyushin).

The current album features the singing style resembling Church and folk music traditions of the Balkan peninsular. The singer seems to intentionally prefer Serbian pronunciation for the chants performed in Church-Slavonic language. Unique timbre of the Edward’s voice does achieve the main goal of the album, i.e. revealing antiquity through modern sound.

I have to mention, however, that the album lacks Greek language. There is the word “Byzantium” in the title, after all. And the only chant performed in Greek language, “It is Truly Meet”, is ironically the shortest track of the album. Indeed, a lot of Slavic nations, including Serbia, Bulgaria, and Macedonia were part of the Byzantine Empire. Nonetheless, it was the Greek culture that constituted the Empire’s backbone. On the other hand, the use of Kratima, an old melismatic element of Greek Orthodox music, adds a touch of traditional Greek style to the album.

Above all, the album’s primary mission is spreading the faith among those people who are doing first steps in their search for God. It should be noted that jazz is one of music genres where Edward Lange is active too. So, I believe that many people from our modern secular society will obviously become curious to discover the “spiritual repertoire” of a young and talented jazz singer. In its turn, this may be the turning point in their spiritual life. Perhaps, one day they will cross the threshold of the Church.

You can visit the Catalog of St. Elisabeth Convent to listen to a short preview of the album.

By Vladimir Sypchu,

the chorister of the parish of

the Entry of the Most Holy Mother of God into the Temple

The Catalog of Good Deeds, 2018

Mtskheta: the ancient capital of Georgia. This small town attracts tourists and pilgrims – and not without reason. The famous Djvari, Zedazeni, Svetitskhoveli, and Samtavro monasteries are here. It is to Samtavro Women’s Monastery that a torrent of suffering people flows in a continuous stream. They come to the grave of Starets Gabriel (Urgebadze), who was glorified in the choir of saints of the Georgian Church on December 20, 2012. This occurred an unbelievably short time after his repose—17 years later.

In 2006, the Mount Athos Publishing House ("Svyataya Gora") published a beautiful book entitled “The Elder’s Diadem.” You don’t read this book, you devour it—it’s impossible to tear yourself away from it. The starets was called “the great love of the twentieth century.” He often wore a placard around his neck that said, “A man without love is like a pitcher without a bottom.”

A Man Full of Love

Aliis inserviendo consumor.

(I am consumed in serving others.)

Latin proverb

The holy confessor Gabriel (Urgebadze) was born on August 26, 1929. His name in the world was Goderdzi. For a long time, his mother was against her son’s aspiration to monasticism, but towards the end of her life she reconciled herself with his choice, and subsequently she herself took the veil. She also was buried at Samtavro Monastery.

Goderdzi came to believe in God while he was still a child. One time the neighbors were fighting, and one of them said, “You have crucified me like Christ.” The boy began to wonder what “crucified” meant, and Who Christ was. The adults sent the child off to the church, where the church warden advised him to read the Gospel. He saved up his money, bought a Gospel, and in a few years had learned the text practically by heart.

A longing for monasticism arose in him in his youth. Later, the elder would say, “There is no greater heroism than monasticism.” And he proved this by his whole life.

He took monastic vows when he was 26, receiving the name of Gabriel, after St. Gabriel of Mt. Athos, the starets who had walked through the water and brought to shore the Iveron Icon of the Mother of God, which had floated to Athos over the sea. Fr. Gabriel especially revered the wonderworking copy of the Iveron Icon kept at Samtavro Monastery.

Fr. Gabriel built a church with several cupolas in the courtyard of his home on Tetri Tskaro Street in Tbilisi. He erected it with his own hands and finished around 1962. Fr. Gabriel found the icons for this church at the town dumps, where in those atheistic times people brought and threw out, along with the trash, a large number of sacred objects. Sometimes he wandered around the dumps days on end. He had a small studio where he cleaned the icons and gave them frames and settings of various materials. The walls of his church were covered with icons. He even framed photographs and pictures of icons from secular magazines.

On May 1, 1965, during a demonstration, Hieromonk Gabriel burned a 12-meter portrait of Lenin which hung on the building which housed the Supreme Council of the Georgian SSR, and he began to preach about Christ to the people who were gathered there. He was severely beaten for this and put into a solitary confinement cell at the Georgian KGB. At the interrogation Fr. Gabriel said that he did it because “it is forbidden to treat a man like God. The Crucifixion of Christ ought to hang where the portrait of Lenin was. And you need to write, “Glory to the Lord Jesus Christ.” In August 1965 Fr. Gabriel was put into a psychiatric hospital for an examination. There he was diagnosed as insane: “A psychopathic individual who believes in God and angels.” They gave him a “white ticket.” But after that even more horrible things happened to him. In order to please the authorities, the hierarchs of the Church did not allow him to come into the church and did not let him into the services—they drove him away. Batiushka did not have the possibility of receiving Holy Communion, which he wanted with all his heart. He could go several days without food, could go a long time without sleep, but he could not live without the Church. And the starets often cried out of powerlessness, opening his soul to his sisters.

Fr. Gabriel settled in Samtavro in the 1980’s, and in the latter years he lived in a round tower. For a while, the nuns wondered at Batiushka’s eccentricities, not seeing in them as yet any special podvig. At first it seemed strange to them that for some time he lived in the hen house, where there were large chinks in the walls, and that in the winter he went barefoot…. The elder’s behavior didn’t fit into any kind of framework and didn’t correspond to any human conceptions. But later they began to feel that extraordinary love radiated from him: he loved everyone. The starets would often shout at the sisters, demand obedience of them, make them do something, or make them eat from dirty plates. But it was impossible to take offense at him—in his eyes shone tender love.

Before Mother Theodora became Abbess, Fr. Gabriel brought her with him to Tbilisi and made her go begging. The two of them would beg for alms, but then the elder would distribute everything to the poor. If they took a taxi back, he might shout at the taxi driver and give him no money at all, or he might pay many times more than he owed.

During Holy Week the sound of continuous weeping could be heard coming from his cell. While he was praying, some people saw him rise 15–20 inches off the ground and saw light coming from him. The faithful revered Fr. Gabriel as a great ascetic and they would come to him as to a living saint. When the starets would receive a large number of guests, he would always see to it that “the professor”—that is what he call red wine—was on the table. He would generously treat his guests, while he himself ate almost nothing. Father used to say that you have to be nourished with Divine love, and not just on food.

Otar Nikolaishvili was Batiushka's spiritual child and often spent time in his cell. Once Fr. Gabriel unexpectedly said to him that they had to go right then and there to the Monastery of St. Anthony Martkopsky—that it was urgent. Otar didn't know what to say: his car wasn't working right, he was having problems with it. Batiushka insisted, and somehow they started out. Then the road began to go up a mountain, and the automobile began to cough and sputter, but the starets suddenly said, "Don't worry, son—St. Anthony Martkopsky himself is sitting in the back seat—but don't you turn around." And the car suddenly tore off ahead so fast that the driver had to step on the brakes. As soon as they drove in through the monastery gates, the engine cut out on the spot. Just at that time, several armed people came in there looking for trouble. The starets stepped out in front and said, "Shoot me." This embarrassed and sobered the bandits, and they left the monastery.

According to the elder's will, his body was wrapped in a mat and given over to the earth in the place where St. Nina had labored. Fr. Gabriel died on November 2, 1995 of edema. He suffered terribly from the pains, but never showed it.

A countless number of healings began to occur at his grave after his death. All Georgia deeply venerates the elder.

The Samtavro-Transfiguration Church and the Monastery of St. Nina have a website called Starets Gabriel—Confessor of Christ, which is dedicated to Archimandrite Gabriel. Many well-known people have left their comments about him; among them are:

Mother Superior Georgia of the Gorny Convent in Jerusalem: “You have a true starets. You are in Paradise…” and

Schema-Archimandrite Vitaly (Sidorenko): “Monk Gabriel is the greatest monk.”

From the Sayings of the Elder

Whoever learns to love will be happy. Only do not think that love is an inborn talent. One can learn love, and we must.

Without sacrifice for the sake of the Lord and of our neighbor nothing will come of the spiritual life. You won’t learn to love without sacrifice.

God will not accept empty words. God loves deeds. Good deeds are what love is.

Live so that not only God would love you, but also so that people would love you—there is no greater thing than this.

Read the full article here: http://orthochristian.com/65883.html

There is a huge difference between a precentor and a choir conductor. A real conductor doesn’t need a diploma—it’s not my own phrase but I agree with it. Many famous conductors became outstanding performers first. David Oistrakh, Vladimir Spivakov were fantastic violinists and then became conductors; Mikhail Pletnev is a remarkable pianist who later became a conductor; Yury Bashmet originally played the viola.

A musician grows from within. The conductor’s gestures also come from within, not from outside. That is why it is great if you already have a set of gestural patterns and conducting skills under your belt, if you know the basics of this profession, but you can get to the same point via a different route.

I didn’t know why the Lord put me in charge of the choir but now that’s what I see: God knew that He would make me a nun. I had never wanted to become a nun: I was a down-to-earth mother of three kids. Convent? Really? But God had a plan for my life. I sang in a choir conducted by a friend of mine. It turned out that the cathedral needed another choir. They suggested that I try. When you’re a neophyte, you have no fear: got the blessing? Go and fight!

At first, I was scared. I didn’t know how to conduct the choir. For a long time, I was unsure of how I even dared conduct a choir. Later, I understood that if God needs it, it will happen whether you like it or not.

The participants of our choir hailed from the Academy of Music and from College of Music, so they all demanded a lot from themselves and from each other, and no one was left behind. That’s how we organised our work: “Listen to what I want; I’ll explain it to you, and please do it.” We all had diplomas of conductors and musicologists. When we started performing at concerts, I needed different conducting gestures and I learned them by looking at other conductors and seeing that some of their signs didn’t suit me and didn’t provide the sound that I wanted to hear. So I adapted their signs to fit our choir better. I saw that my singers didn’t understand some gestures, so I showed them what they had to do in a different way, and they finally understood what I meant. I asked for their feedback, and they said, “Keep it simple, do it that way…” and showed how. Sadly, the “conductorship” gets in the way. I see other conductors, even precentors (who are basically singers who stand on the other side of the lectern), and I notice that the usual conducting gestures are exaggerated most of the time, especially at a concert where the audience can see the conductor (as opposed to the church, where the choir is in a separate place). For example, a conductor conducts The Door of Repentance Open Unto Me. That is the first chant sung in anticipation of the Great Lent, and no matter whose music it is—by Chesnokov, Bortnyansky, or just plain obikhod chant—its spirit must be special; it is penitential; you must not wave your arms like a windmill! When things like these happen on stage, I feel distaste and I say to myself, “Regardless of how well you sing, it’s not right.” The visual impression of the conductor on stage is crucial: he or she provides clues as to what people should feel. Whether we want it or not, this indication goes on. That is why every conductor who stands on stage with his or her back to the audience, facing the choir, willy-nilly shows with his posture and all his motions what we should feel according to his interpretation of the piece that is being performed.

A precentor’s job is different. He doesn’t have to demonstrate anything. He stands in the choir loft or in a corner where no one can see him. All he needs to do is lead the choir and provide timely information for the choir about to the text, and know the service, of course, so that everything is in time. A precentor’s gestures must be modest. Everything he does must be aimed at enabling people in the nave to hear the sacred texts of those chants and at avoiding all shades of affection, i.e., passions, like I’m sad—I’m scared—and that’s a siiiin! When a church choir highlights the texts like that, you can’t expect a prayerful mood. Sometimes I hear people say, “They sang so well! So loud and emotional!” That’s the opposite of praise for a church choir. We must not be emotionally unstable. Even Saint Ignatius Bryanchaninov said so. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky didn’t call himself a church composer, although he composed a Liturgy and an All-Night Vigil. He didn’t intend it for church use. A humble priest, whom I had heard of before I came to the Convent, approached our choir after we sang the Cherubic Hymn by Tchaikovsky and said, “You sang really well but please never sing it again. When I hear your Cherubic Hymn, I imagine Russian birch trees.” It was Tchaikovsky’s music.

June 23, 2018

St. Elisabeth Convent

From a letter of Archimandrite Irenei

to a mother and father (2012):

My dear N and A,

You are Orthodox parents raising Orthodox children in the loving embrace of the Church, and you have asked an important question relating to the cultural “celebrations” surrounding what has come to be known as “Halloween”. Let us start by saying, then, that you must put out of your mind these thoughts about “going with the culture” and permitting your children to take part in such customs “so that they won’t feel out of place with their friends.” Where secular people may feel they have the option to divorce the spiritual realm from the physical and do one thing with their bodies while believing another in their minds, we Christian people do not. We know that the actions of our bodies, and the things we do with our lives, affect our hearts and are directly connected to spiritual realms of which we are, on account of our weakness, not always immediately aware. Can you honestly think—you who gaze at and touch the holy icons in your home and in our temples, and know that the saints are present with you, and that you are drawn into their holy lives—that to be willingly surrounded by images of the demons (however childish and infantile their representation) will not also affect your heart, and your children’s hearts, and draw them closer to powers that none would call holy? And not just to gaze upon such images, but to fashion them into clothes and costumes and wear them on one’s body?

Some will say, “Ah, but it is only a bit of fun, these days. It’s just fancy dress. No one believes in these things!” But tell me, do you think the devil is so foolish that he does not see the opportunity that comes from something being perceived as “just fun and games”? Do you believe he does not understand that such circumstances cause us to let down our guard, to tease and toy with the very ideas of demons and spiritual darkness? That he does not rejoice precisely because such images become things of play, and therefore things that we do not guard against when the play is done? Yet others will say, “But it is not all macabre: children trick-or-treat in costumes of angels, of cartoon characters, of animals.” But this is to fail to see the point, that it is the very admixture of these two things—the playful and the demonic—that does such damage to the soul. The Scriptures say, What concord hath Christ with Belial? (2 Cor. 6.15), and yet modern man feels perfectly comfortable to join the demons to teddy-bears and unicorns; to mix the sinister with the trivial. This is because he has lost the sense of how powerfully our idle “play” affects the inner disposition of the heart. We think that if we don’t take something “seriously”, it cannot seriously affect us—but look how much woe and despair there is in the world, as the result of this delusion!

No, it is time to stand fast against this ridiculous trend. God has given you children; and now, in this very dilemma you are feeling in your heart, He is asking you how you will look after them. Will you, for the sake of “social norms”, start them at so precious and tender an age down the path of considering the spiritual world a realm of partying and jest, toying with images of evil as if they were of no consequence? Or will you spend this night teaching them of the joy of the spiritual life as it really is? “Halloween” (18th / 31st October) coincides with the eve of the feast day of our beloved pastor and illumined Father in the faith, St John of Kronstadt; and it is also the feast day of the pious virgin St. Frideswide of Oxford. Look, how God has planted for you two spiritual trees that can bear fruit in your family’s life on this very night. Take your children to the Divine Services; encourage them precisely in the fact of doing something that others are neglecting—that while the world outside plays about in the frivolities of delusion and mixes demons with daydreams, you will enter into the Holy Temple where the God of all spirits dwells, to receive the Holy Spirit and be joined into a life that turned a parish priest into a clairvoyant miracle worker and a meek young woman into a wonder-working healer! And teach your children that He longs to do the same for them, that He desires to make of them great saints whom the whole world will know, if only they, and you, will let Him.

May God give you strength to stand steadfast with joy amidst these worldly trials! May He bless you, and bless your children.

By Archimandrite Irenei (Steenburg),

now Bishop of Sacramento (ROCOR)

Source: https://orthodoxethos.com/post/a-brief-word-on-halloween-as-to-whether-you-ought-to-participate-or-not

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Some Thoughts on Kneeling in Church on Sundays

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CD Album “My Byzantium”: Great and Infinite Empire Expressed Through Music

The Life, Miracles, and Service of Elder Gabriel (Urgebadze)

Precentor or Choir Conductor: What’s the Difference?

A Brief Word on Halloween in a Letter to Orthodox Parents

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