The Catalog of Good Deeds

Please help me to understand the significance of antidoron. How should one receive it and handle it? If one takes it home during the week for daily "communion" is this wrong? Is there a proper way of doing it—before a prayer, before a meal, etc.? When can you or should you take propsphora to Church? Should you also take wine and oil? Do you bring the names of people to be commemorated with these gifts?

Answer: This is a subject of great importance which we have several times addressed in the pages of Orthodox Tradition. When we do not commune at Liturgy, we receive antidoron (an-dee-tho-ron, with a hard "d" and a soft "d," as in "the") at the end of Liturgy (that is, blessed bread which substitutes for the Gifts; thus, antidoron, "instead of the Gifts"). Those who commune during the Liturgy receive antidoron or antidoron and wine immediately after communing and should not take it again at the end of Liturgy. Since it is blessed, the antidoron should be carefully handled and no particles of it should be allowed to fall on the ground. This means that children must be carefully watched while consuming antidoron and taught to treat it with pious reverence. It should be received from the Priest at the end of Liturgy and immediately consumed. Since antidoron is given in place of the Gifts, it is also received on an empty stomach, for which reason Orthodox Christians do not eat or drink anything from the midnight before the Divine Liturgy, whether communing or not.

Antidoron may also be taken home for use during the week. It is a pious custom for Orthodox Christians to begin the day, after their morning prayers and before eating, by consuming a particle of antidoron and drinking agiasmos, or blessed water.

Prosforo(n), the word for the bread which we offer at the Divine Liturgy, comes from the Greek word for an offering, prosfora. It is customarily baked in the home with prayers and taken to Church, where it is offered for the Divine Liturgy. (Incidentally, women, out of piety, should not prepare prosforon during their monthly periods.) One may also give oil and wine along with prosforon—other "offerings"—so as to provide for the oil lamps and the remaining element of the Eucharist, though this is not mandatory. This can be done for any Liturgy. It is also customary to offer the names of Orthodox Christian family members, of friends, and of relatives with the prosforon, so that the Priest may commemorate them at the Service of Preparation (Proskomide). From Orthodox Tradition, Vol. IX, No. 4, p. 18.

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My brother and I visited your monastery. The services were beautiful. But you gave antidoron [the blessed bread distributed at the end of the Divine Liturgy —Editor] to my brother, who, as I told you, is not Orthodox. You also gave him a blessing. Father [name deleted] said that you cannot give antidoron and blessings to heretics....Can you help me through this? I trust your views. (J.F., CA)

Answer: Non-Orthodox should be called "non-Orthodox" or "heterodox," not heretics. Gentlemanly behavior and the success of Orthodox missions within a religiously pluralistic society dictate this.

Your Priest is correct in his opinion that antidoron should not be given to non-Orthodox. It represents the Holy Gifts. (Thus the custom—now sadly ignored in most Churches—of fasting from the midnight before Liturgy, even when not communing.) So as not to embarrass non-Orthodox visiting our services, we place portions of an unblessed loaf of bread at one side of the antidoron tray and give these to non-Orthodox with the customary blessing: "May the blessing of the Lord...."

With regard to blessing non-Orthodox, how can we not bless other Christians, or even non-Christians? Not to do so is to violate the Christian commandment of love. Moreover, in the Divine Liturgy we pray for all men and women, Orthodox or not, blessing them and hoping to bring them to the truth of Orthodoxy.

If, in maintaining fidelity to the true Faith and avoiding the betrayals of ecumenism, we fail to pray for those in error, then we cannot possibly belong to the Church of Christ. Love is the most dominant feature of Christ's Church, and in that love we are brothers even of our enemies. From Orthodox Tradition, Vol. V, No. 3, p. 62.

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Most Orthodox Christians are aware that one should keep a strict and complete fast from midnight before receiving the Holy Mysteries, but one should also receive holy water and the antidoron (the blessed bread given out at the end of the Liturgy) fasting. If, as many do, you keep a supply at home, use a little each day to break your fast, when you have said your morning prayers and before eating anything else. If you are attending the Divine Liturgy, then keep a fast until the service is over (as in any case one should) and you receive your antidoron from the priest. If for some reason, you have eaten when you attend the Liturgy, then take the antidoron home as a blessing and consume it on another day, thus showing reverence for the things of God and the blessing which this bread has received. From The Shepherd.

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It is a pious custom to keep some holy bread and holy water in one's icon corner—to consume, breaking the night's fast, with one's morning prayers.

“O Lord my God, may Thy holy gift and Thy Holy Water be unto forgiveness of my sins, unto enlightenment of my mind, unto strengthening of my spiritual and bodily powers, unto health of my soul and body, unto vanquishing of my passions and weaknesses, by Thy boundless merciful kindness, through the prayers of Thy Most-pure Mother and all Thy Saints. Amen.”

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Special note on antidoron: We are always growing in our Orthodox understanding of what we are doing in worship. Before the Divine Liturgy begins there is a service of preparation, the Proskomide, in which the priest prepares the gifts for the Eucharist. The prosphora, or loaf of bread from which the Lamb is taken, is called the Antidoron which means "instead of the gift (Holy Communion)". According to Tradition this is received after the dismissal by those who were not prepared for or could not receive Holy Communion. It is a symbol of the Theotokos from which Christ (the Lamb) came and is reserved for Orthodox Christians. This Antidoron will be set by the Holy Water near the solea. It should only be received by Orthodox Christians while fasting. It can also be taken home for use after morning prayer before eating or drinking anything. After the dismissal everyone may venerate the Cross and receive the blessed bread that will be held by Acolytes or others on each side. (From the parish newsletter of Holy Cross Antiochian Orthodox Church, Yakima, WA)

Examples of the Pastoral Application of Oikonomia

A few words from the OCIC Editor: In our times most Priests think it's enough merely to guard the Chalice, i.e., not to give Holy Communion accidentally to non-Orthodox. For this and other pastoral reasons, free distribution of Antidoron to all who come up to venerate the Cross after the Divine Liturgy appears to be common practice today in most parishes. This is (hopefully) done by oikonomia, out of love and respect for non-Orthodox visitors, so as not to embarrass them, and with the hope of attracting them to the Orthodox Faith.

Orthodox Christians should, however, keep in mind the traditional teaching concerning Antidoron, treating the blessed bread with respect, partaking only after fasting, etc.

For those who still think it's wrong freely to give out Antidoron, some examples follow that support the use of oikonomia. It's also worth keeping in mind that there are other traditions (e.g., that catechumens should depart at the end of the Liturgy of the Word, i.e., before the Cherubic Hymn) that one could defend using copious quotes from the Holy Fathers. Yet I have never heard of a Priest telling his catechumens to depart. The pastoral reasons why this tradition is no longer practiced are likely similar to those justifying oikonomia in the distribution of Antidoron.

Clinging rigidly to the practice of traditions that do not touch on dogma (e.g., the Baptism of converts is not in view because the reasons given today for reception by Chrismation alone touch on dogmatic issues related to ecclesiology, and are heavily influenced by Ecumenism) can lead one down the path of the Old Believers, who could not accept (among other things) a change in the way that Russian Orthodox make the Sign of the Cross. We must endeavor to "hold fast to the traditions," as St. Paul wrote, but also not to fall into the error of "super-correctness".

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I remember when a novice from Monastery Josanice, as a soldier from Valjevo, came to Monastery Celije for Liturgy and brought with him a soldier, a Roman Catholic seminarian from Slovenia, who was in awe of the Orthodox service of Fr. Justin and the sisters and the people, and so this Serb, the novice, asked the Abba: Should the Slovenian approach for the antidoron?, and Fr. Justin allowed him and personally gave it to him, saying: “He’s a child.”

Bishop Atanasije Jevtic

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The Patriarchs of Constantinople Gennadios Scholarios, Dositheos of Jerusalem and the Archbishop of Ochrid (Bulgaria) Demetrios Chomatianos when referring to those heretics who come respectfully to attend our Orthodox Worship and ask for our blessing, all recommend that we do not send them away, but on the contrary even offer them antidoron*** and our holy water. It is characteristic that while Gennadios allows the Orthodox to bless the heretics, he discourages them from asking for the blessing and holy water of the heretics! “It is therefore enough, that you do not ask for their blessing, for they are heterodox, and separate”. Demetrios of Ochrid feels the need to justify this suggestion of his, saying that “this custom has the power to gradually attract them fully towards our holy ethos and dogmas”.

Source: http://orthodoxinfo.com/praxis/antidoron.aspx

Why would a Protestant Christian convert to Eastern Orthodox Christianity? Such a question cannot be answered through the use of dogmatic assertions or theoretical musings. For such a question presupposes a particular person’s journey of faith. And such a journey can only be spoken of from experience. Similarly, Christianity at its core is an encounter with Christ—a relationship—not a formal set of dogmas. It is not my aim to embark on the process of comparative religion. The journey I wish to take you on is my own: how a nominal Protestant Christian, and his family, found the fulness of Christ in the Eastern Orthodox Church.

MY CHRISTIAN BACKGROUND

I grew up as an active participant in a non-denominational Protestant church in rural Michigan. At this same church I met a woman who would, in 2009, become my wife. My father, a music pastor and missionary, along with my mother, led their five children, of whom I am the fourth, to faith in Christ. Through the promptings of my older sister I asked Jesus into my heart at the age of six. Seeing no major reason, at the time, to be baptized right away, I waited until I was ten. At fifteen, while in Africa, God audibly spoke to me: an experience that rocked my world.

Around this time I began reading every book on theology and philosophy that I could get my hands on—beginning, of course, with C.S. Lewis. By seventeen I had delved into Plato and Aristotle and eventually wound up following the timeline of history and reading a variety of philosophers and theologians. At that point in time, my World Religion’s Professor began offering free Koine Greek lessons before class; this kick-started my interest in biblical Greek, though I am still an amateur. I can see, though only in part, that God has used all of these interests as instruments to pave the way towards union with Him through Eastern Orthodoxy.

At eighteen, as my reading list would have proclaimed, I was really into Christianity. But the reading list is pretty much where it stopped. Christianity was in my head but not my heart, and I did not even realize that this was a problem.

Between 2007 and 2009 I went through several phases. I was a professing Christian, a skeptic, agnostic, neoplatonic dualist, a priori enthusiast... Between what I was reading and what I was undergoing during that period of time my entire life was thrown completely out of balance.

And then I got married.

We lived together as newlyweds 2000 miles away from where we grew up... and we did alright. We were attending a Baptist church and it was really good for us. We got involved and I began attempting to “lead” as I perceived a godly husband should—though I didn’t really know what this should look like. When we moved back to our hometown a year later we fell back into a stupor—floating along nominally and attending the church we grew up in.

Until we found out we were pregnant.

THE BEAUTIFUL CRISIS

“Honey, that says positive.” She was holding out the pregnancy test. We were both in disbelief. It was summer 2011; we were in our second year of marriage. Finding out you’re going to be a dad will straighten you out really fast. I was working as a barista in a small coffee shop. My wife, a nurse, was working in home health care. The plan up to that point had been to continue the road toward my PhD in philosophy—I really liked metaphysics. But not anymore. That was the first thing that had to go, I knew it. I needed a real job, not a PhD in a field where I might not even find a job—and would most likely go crazy trying to explain sunlight to people looking at shadows. The second thing we realized was we needed to get serious about life—what were we doing? And most importantly we needed to get serious about God.

The next several months consisted of job and soul searching. For the first time as a couple, we began to wake up, sing hymns, and read scripture together. We also began praying in the evenings before bed. At that point, we were only attending church to see our old friends. That wasn’t a good reason. So we went church “shopping” and found a new, solid, Bible believing church. And it was good for us.

Around this time our son was born.

THE ROAD FROM PROTESTANTISM TO THE EASTERN ORTHODOX CHURCH

When we first switched from the church we grew up in to a different—though still non-denominational—protestant church, we were really convicted by the preaching. I remember it vividly. We were laying in bed on a Sunday evening and a dread feeling of conviction came upon me. It felt like a rotting in my soul... like if I didn’t say something, I would slowly decompose in my own filth. I opened my mouth hesitantly and began to confess all kinds of things to my wife. And she did the same. The Spirit of God was clearly present. We wept; over our sins but also out of joy because, having confessed, we were free. But as we continued to attend the same church over the next few months we quickly realized that we needed something different. We needed more. There had to be more than appropriating, and then distributing, “get-out-of-hell-free cards”. There had to be more than “God looking down on us from above.” The question that was singeing the edges of my mind was this: How can I keep Christ in front of me every moment of every day? What I was really asking was, how do we abide in Christ?

Until that point, if you would have walked into our apartment off the street, you wouldn’t have seen any indication that we believed... anything. Except maybe the Bible on the nightstand... maybe. But there was no physical evidence that we were Christians. Growing up, we weren’t explicitly taught that the physical was bad but the mindset we were grafted into took on a form of dualism. “The body and the material universe is bad. Earth isn’t our home. The spiritual is good.” And so, in our formative years we naturally misunderstood, and poked fun at,—Lord, have mercy—any kind of Christianity that incorporated the physical world. (In retrospect, I can see how it was so easy for me, upon reading Plato, to accept the theory of forms and a dualistic view of the world.)

But not any more.

I had two thoughts. The first was to get a picture of Christ to hang in my living room as a visible representation of His presence. I didn’t want one of those soft, happy-go-lucky pictures of a hipster-model-looking shepherd, I wanted something real. The style I had in mind turned out to be that of iconography—this is before I even knew what an icon was. The second thought was to get a cross to put around my neck. These two thoughts thrust me into a third: Christianity has been around for a really long time surely someone has already thought of this. And so I began searching to find out what early Christians did to abide in Christ.

This catapulted me into a study of the history of Christianity—something I’d never ventured to read into before. I was shocked. Why hadn’t I read the history of my own faith before now? For being somewhat well read, I was caught with my pants down when it came to Christian history and the Church Fathers. Up to that point, I had always naively thought that after the apostles died the church fell into serious disarray until Luther. What I found, however, was astounding, encouraging, and eye-opening. There were schisms and heresies circulating in the early church for sure, but the Church was never overcome by the gates of hades.

Why hasn’t anyone told me about the history of Christianity? I asked myself. Why hasn’t anyone told me about the Church Fathers? What amazed me even more was how little I really knew about my own faith. And so I read. And kept reading. And then I read some more. It wasn’t dry facts about dead bishops that captivated me. On the contrary, as I began reading the lives of the saints and how they lived, worshiped, and prayed, I felt the presence of the very saints, about whom I was reading, pulling me closer to Christ.

It became readily apparent, from the historical point of view, that there were only two options: the Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church. So I began learning as much as I could about the two Churches. What captivated me about the Eastern Church was the balance between the rational and the experiential. Around this time, my wife, son, and I were invited to dinner with an Orthodox priest and his wife. I’d seen Fr. Gregory a few times before. My parents were really good friends with him—my father met him on a missions trip about a year prior to my interest in Church history—and we all went to dinner together. I wasn’t planning on saying anything, but about three-quarters of the way through the meal my mom turned to Fr. Gregory and said, “I think Ben has a question for you about the Orthodox Church.” I am eternally grateful that she said this because it sparked a conversation with Fr. Gregory that would continue, through email and regular meetings, for over a year.

Fr. Gregory responded to my questions and suggested books about the Orthodox faith. Our email correspondence spans over a hundred printed pages—in the future I hope to publish these emails on Conciliar Post under the title “Conversations with an Orthodox Priest.” The Orthodox Faith was vibrant and had a lot to offer. The fact that it has withstood the test of time really spoke to me. The Orthodox Church still worships and encourages parishioners to live, with minor adjustments of course, as it did 2000 years ago.

And this is where it began to get real.

As I looked at how a Christian should live in order to keep Christ the focus of their life, I realized I needed to begin practicing what I read instead of merely ruminating on it. So I began waking up to say morning prayers and in the evening Mallory and I would stand together for evening prayers. Fr. Gregory had given me a prayer rope—black wool with 100 knots—and told me about the Jesus Prayer: Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God have mercy on me, a sinner. And I began practicing it as well. This affected a major change in me. We began attending the Orthodox Church where Fr. Gregory was priest—which at that point was an hour away—as we continued to read about Orthodoxy.

As I continued to participate in daily prayers throughout the week and in the Divine Liturgy on Sundays—though at that point not being able to go forward for to participate in the Eucharist—the doctrines I once mocked became clearer and clearer. It wasn’t as much a rational explication of the doctrines that convinced me of their truth but rather an experience of them. (Though I didn’t neglect the rational by any means—a healthy balance of both is necessary.) It was the fact that I was changing, by God’s grace, through the practice of daily prayers, participation in the Liturgy, reverencing the icons, and fasting. There was something very real happening to me. I later found out that I was—and by God’s grace still am—being healed.

The Orthodox Church views Christianity and the gospel, not as a courtroom but, as a hospital. I would like to talk about this view more in a later article but for now it will suffice to say that through participation in the life of the Church and reading, I underwent a significant change in how I viewed the world. Suddenly, everything began to be an opportunity to give thanks to God. The presence of Christ pervaded everything. The world took on a different meaning; I began,—I say began and I am still beginning—for the first time in my life, to love other people. I wasn’t as angry all the time. My wife and I began to resolve conflict much faster. Overall, it was incredibly encouraging to see that what the Church was offering to me was working.

OUR CONVERSION

We were participating in the Church as much as we could. But that wasn’t enough. It was necessary, in my mind, that we convert so that we could participate fully in the life of the Church. I expressed this desire to Mallory and she too felt like it was the right thing to do—although she didn’t feel the imperative as much as I.

From what I’ve read, and from people I’ve spoken to, it is typically much more difficult for women to convert from protestantism to Orthodoxy than men. When asked, Mallory responded, “Well at first I just thought this was another phase. But when he began praying and participating in the Church and he stopped swearing and punching holes in the wall, I thought there may be something to this Orthodox thing.” She also mentioned that it was encouraging to see that worship wasn’t based on stylistic preference (strange fire, maybe?). When we enter the Church and participate in the liturgy we are stepping out of time and into the kingdom where the king is being worshiped 24/7. We step into this worship, together with the saints and the angels who are always worshipping, as often as we can. The Liturgical calendar has been set up to help us participate in this manner, in the kingdom. By participating in the Liturgical cycle the Church takes us on a journey. This journey is a rhythmic pattern of daily prayers, the iconic significance of sleeping (death) rising from sleep (resurrection), weekly fasting, the Eucharist on Sunday (the 8th day), and extended periods of fasting throughout the year—as a preparation for the feasts (Nativity, Pascha, etc.).

A FEW OTHER THINGS THAT STRUCK US ABOUT ORTHODOXY

Even though we didn’t know it before our journey to Orthodoxy, we both had a very impoverished Christianity—and an impoverished view of the world. Unbeknownst to myself, I was a deist (God created and then walked away from the world). I regarded God to be “the man upstairs” and humans to be “downstairs.” Fr. Stephen Freeman talks about this misunderstanding of Christianity in his book Everywhere Present where he calls it a “two-story universe.” One result of this way of thinking—even if it’s not cognizant—is banishing God from the world (in a very physical sense). When we do this what is left are “four walls and a sermon.” The reality is, however, that the whole world is held together by God, and God works through the created world to affect our salvation. Any decent theology about the incarnation will recognize this—although the natural implications of this aren’t always accepted.

Orthodox worship was formed (after the resurrection of Christ) based on these implications: on the fact that we are physical and spiritual beings. It is the soul and the body that compose the human, not one or the other but both together. This being so, it’s important that we use both in worship. In the Eastern Church we use candles, icons, and incense. We bow, prostrate, and kiss. We baptize our children and allow them to take the Eucharist—because rational understanding is not necessary for salvation but participation in Christ is. All of these things are based on the reality that Christianity is an experiential reality and, as human beings, the gospel is not merely an ethereal, rational truth. All of these things bound up together affected a major paradigm shift in our Western mind. All of these things were contributing factors in our conversion.

On Sunday, September 15, 2013, two years after we began searching, we were brought into full communion with the Orthodox Church. The story has many other facets to it as well—at the beginning of those two years unbeknownst to us Fr. Gregory, feeling called by God to our area, sent a letter to His Bishop requesting to start a mission (Orthodox term for a church plant) in Southwest Michigan. Two years later, alongside us being brought into the Church, on September 15, 2013 we held our first Divine Liturgy, which was served by Fr. Gregory, at the Orthodox Mission in Southwestern Michigan currently known as Holy Resurrection.

In summation there are a few things I’d like to say. This account of our conversion from protestantism to Eastern Orthodox Christianity is just one of many. As others have said, I feel like the journey is just now beginning. I do not want to give you the impression that we are perfect little Christians now that we have converted. Far from it. In fact, things actually got much harder after our conversion. But healing is possible; and it is Christ, the healer, whom we seek.

I would like to highlight again that I am not trying to set forward a systematic defense of the dogmas of the Orthodox Church. This being the case I would also like to affirm that doctrine is very important and, having also looked at things rationally, Orthodoxy not only works it also holds up under scrutiny. I affirm and accept the Orthodox faith and doctrine in its entirety—and where doctrines of other traditions vary, I believe it is an aberration from the truth revealed through the Church. For there are beliefs I now hold that, when I was a protestant, I once mocked—and at this I am ashamed. So what convinced me otherwise? It was participation in the life of the Church and experience of these things—tied tandem, of course, with a healthy and balanced intellectual search as well. For Christianity is something you must experience and participate in, not something you can speak about from a distance.

In closing I ask that you pray to God for me, His servant, that he may have mercy on me and my family and remember us in His kingdom. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit to whom be all glory, honor, and worship, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.

A story by Benjamin Cabe

Source: http://www.conciliarpost.com/journeys-of-faith/why-would-a-protestant-convert-to-eastern-orthodox-christianity/

The Festive Choir of St Elisabeth Convent celebrates its 20^th anniversary. It is a noteworthy date – a date to remember. There will be a concert to mark this anniversary. We also released a new disc titled Seek the Lord. This is why we decided to interview Nun Juliania (Denisova), the precentor of the Festive Choir, and ask her to tell our readers about the choir’s new songs, about creativity, about choir singing, and about music in general.

- Mother Juliania, what is your take on the fact that there is too much music and songs in our lives, that they are so easily accessible, unlike in earlier ages… It seems that our civilisation has become too music-centred. Is it good or bad?

I’d say that our modern civilisation is a civilisation of background and commentary. This is what music and literature have evolved into…

- Yes, the whole world keeps singing now, but what does it sing? Most often it’s nonsense and rubbish as far as its contents are concerned. However, people like listening to songs, even primitive ones, more than words…

Unfortunately, I can’t but agree. Nonetheless, not everything people play or sing is music. By the way, the word music is derived from the Greek word musikeia. A treatise written by Kornev in the 17^th century puts it this way, “musikeia is for demonic songs and blasphemy.” On the other hand, church chants were referred to as ‘singing’. The division between secular and spiritual realms could not be more evident!

Later, the etymology of these words changed. Currently it’s the other way around: music is something exalted and inspired. However, things that play in the background and make people suffer… Those poor people no longer know how great it is to go to a concert and to listen to live music without speakers or headphones! They are missing out on this pleasure. But what can we do if our world has grown to be this way…

- Mother Juliania, let’s talk about music and songs written in order to be useful for the soul. I mean the new disc, aptly titled Seek the Lord.

This is a follow-up of God’s idea about music in the Church and how diverse it can be…

When I came to the Convent, literally two months later several nuns cornered me and said, “We have an idea about a new disc, and this idea received Father Andrew’s blessing. We would like to record pilgrims’ songs, and you will help us!” I did not know any of the pilgrim’s songs, except O Wondrous Isle of Valaam! Those songs appeared so primitive to me – I was a “professional musician”, after all. On the other hand, I had to do it because I was blessed to. So we prepared musical treatments, rehearsed these songs, and recorded a disc titled Shining Bright. Nun Joanna (Orlova) was in charge of the audio studio at that time, and the studio was thriving because the Internet wasn’t as ubiquitous as it is now and discs were in high demand. She came up with an idea to release more albums in this series – there are lots of pilgrims’ songs out there, you know. I wasn’t really happy with it because I thought it was vanity of vanities and unfit for a monastic to deal with. However, Nun Joanna went to Father Andrew and asked him to give me spare time to write new songs, so that they could record the new album.

And that was how it happened. I remember it as vividly as if it were not long ago: it was in September, I wrote twelve pieces, and then some more, including You Simply Have to Love, Poor Brethren, O Wondrous Isle of Valaam, Faith Hope and Love, Rejoice O Bride Unwedded.

- Did those songs have author music and treatment?

Yes, they did but I had to rewrite them for the choir. So I was entertaining this thought. By that time, we had already had recorded pieces where the choir was divided into two parts, with some chorists singing accompaniment, imitating a musical instrument (such as a guitar or a gusli), and the rest singing the words in parts. This idea was first realised in My Days, a song I wrote in 2002. Later we recorded other songs – Adam’s Lament, The Horse Song – in this style. I had this experience and that was why I decided to make a disc featuring two choirs: the Monastic Choir singing the tunes, and the Festive Choir singing the accompaniment. As a result, the album You Simply Have to Love was released. I didn’t expect it to be so successful. By that time, our sound engineers Konstantin Karmanov and Dmitry Korshakevich were so skilful that they managed to achieve amazing sound quality on this disc.

We went on singing during church services, and I wrote new harmonisations from time to time. I never forgot about songs, although I didn’t write them. Sometimes a new tune would pop up in my mind, and I would begin to skim some pages and read poetry… I recall a moment when a sister said to me, “It seems you haven’t written anything for a long time, have you?” It was precisely the moment when a simple text fell into the fertile ground. I immediately wrote two songs: “Preserve, O Lord” and “I Live with God’s Help” with lyrics by Father Andrew Logvinov. It seems something inside me became ripe.

Creative people always have moments like these: you often don’t realise what is going on inside you, and it’s hard to explain. And then finally it gets down to three or four phrases and shoots off some overtones. Or sometimes a melody follows you everywhere you go and you don’t know what to make of it, so you begin looking for a text to use with it. That was what happened with my latest song: a tune came to me first, and then I made a Trisagion out of it.

- You mean, in this case you didn’t intend to write songs at all…

I’m trying to say that we did not have any idea about this album. We simply had a collection of new songs. People need this genre of paraliturgical, the quasi-worship songs. They want to hear songs rendered in a professional but soulful and prayerful manner, in an Orthodox style. We wanted to perform these songs in such a manner that it would be obvious that we are Orthodox…

- …not Evangelicals?

Yes! Exactly! They keep singing about God all the time, and people listen to them. We have our own rich heritage, though.

The Internet became more widespread at that very time, and our album You Simply Have To Love and our choir literally soared to worldwide fame. We started doing more concerts and touring more places. However, our choir isn’t the main source of income for any of our singers. They all work in other places. This is why it is impossible for us to do as many concerts as we could – and that’s great. We aren’t fond of concerts because this kind of activities most of the time leads to degradation, to getting used to cheering crowds, to success, and you sing worse and worse because you are fed up with all that…

- Does recording of a music album prevent this kind of temptations?

Yes, it does. I think I should finish my story on how this new album was created. As soon as we accumulated several new songs written specifically for the Festive Choir, we began thinking of recording the new album. And that was how we got down to this project…

- Did the choir perform these songs prior to the recording?

Yes, it did. In fact, there wasn’t a single song that we composed specifically for the new album, unlike You Simply Have To Love album where we composed all songs specifically for the album and then they became popular. Here, on the contrary, all the songs were already being performed, even by other choirs, and only later did we record an album with them.

Two songs, namely, Oh Serbia The House of God and Lord My God Bless Thy People, were recorded directly for the album. They are tricky, with percussion, and Edward Lange together with Olga Vorobyova sing solo and imitate various instruments. These songs are in Serbian, and it took a lot of effort to cut and edit them. They are hard to perform live. We had already performed all other songs live and knew that people liked them.

The name of this album was taken from one of our latest songs. Last summer we went on a pilgrimage to Diveevo. We sang during a liturgy and prayed there. Andrei Zubrich, our soloist Marina’s husband, went with us. He is a professional composer who graduated from our lyceum and the Academy of Music, was awarded the State Award and writes music for Yanka Kupala Theatre. He and his wife are devout believers and go to church regularly. So the Lord allowed him to find the following poem inscribed on the house of Pasha of Sarov:

Seek The Lord,
Seek with tears,
Seek your Lord,
While He hears.

Seek Him everywhere,
Seek Him everyone,
And you will find Him
Somewhere, sometime.

Your joy will be
Above the sky!
Just seek him people
Like beggar seeks a pie…

This small poem written by an unknown author inspired Andrei to compose a song. We sang Seek The Lord at a concert and we have always been singing it first thing during our concerts.

- Does it mean that this song has become special for the choir?

Yes, we did not even have differing opinions about the name of the new album. At first we planned to title it Keep O Lord. But as soon as Seek Ye Lord appeared, it was a clear favourite.

We wanted the choir to give out a clear message to its listeners. This composition by Andrei has become this shoutout and an epigraph to each concert and the album. When we stand on stage we don’t know who is sitting in the audience: they may have found God already. However, we want to approach those who haven’t found him yet, like professional musicians or artists who find it very difficult to turn to God because it is hard to suppress their selves, because they have a talent and want to show it off, unaware of the fact that everything they have belongs to God.

I keep saying in all my interviews that this choir over there on stage consists exclusively of professionals with excellent education who also sing in church, who are believers and who take communion. I say this because I want to make intellectuals think that faith is not something that old ladies, common folks, or those who suffer from diseases or dependencies do… There are alternative examples. God does not prevent them from leading a normal life; on the contrary, He helps them with it.

- Was the release of the new album on the eve of the choir’s anniversary intended?

It was just a coincidence. Especially given that the album took a long time to record and release… We were reminded of the upcoming anniversary of our choir not long ago. We celebrate the choir’s birthday every year on February 23 for twenty years. This is not an anniversary, it’s just a nice-looking date.

- Where did you record the tracks? In a church?

Yes. It is important for a sound engineer to record everything in one and the same place, with the same settings. A recording must be perceived like a single whole. A trained ear can hear it if tracks are recorded in different environments. We did our best to ensure the highest quality of our work from a composer’s or a performer’s or a sound engineer’s viewpoint.

So, the first album in the Pilgrim’s Songs series was recorded exclusively by the Monastic Choir. The second album featured a mix of the two choirs. This third album has a different quality because it features only the Festive Choir, except Keep O Lord which we performed together with the nuns, and this track certainly was to the album’s advantage.

- What comes next, after all those years? Will there be more songs? What kind of choir will sing them?

After I composed several songs using lyrics by Father Andrew Logvinov and Hieromonk Roman, people started to send me their poems… I’m not a songwriter! If I happen to stumble upon a tune, I write it down, and then I don’t know where it should go, I simply feel the need to get it off my chest, give it away, and express it somehow. Of course, there are people who don’t expect to hear their music performed but this absence of demand is stressful and makes one anxious; it is hard to bear. A composer will always need someone to perform his or her music. I thank God for this choir that loves and supports my creative efforts. I’m really blessed… Yes, we plan to release Pilgrim’s Songs 4 in cooperation with the nuns. We have come to a decision to record one more album.

Interview by Helena Nasledysheva

February 17, 2017

Order the CD "Seek the Lord" from the catalog of St. Elisabeth Convent

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