The Catalog of Good Deeds

The priest looked out of the altar, checking to see if the choir director was ready to begin the hours before the Divine Liturgy. Just as he was ready to say, «Blessed is our God,» his newest convert, Bill, made a grand entrance into the church, having just gotten back from his latest pilgrimage to another monastery. Bill—or Vasili, as he now insisted on being called—had been a normal young evangelical convert, clean-cut, single, and working his first job out of college. Then he discovered Orthodoxy in a bookstore, and with great zeal embraced the Faith. He was chrismated after a usual six-month catechumenate, during which he read just about every book in print on the Orthodox Faith.

After a year or so, Bill had decided to go visit monasteries. This is where his change began. He became more pious and more serious about his faith, but also started to become, well, weird. Like this Sunday morning. Bill/Vasili was not content to come in like everyone else. Rather, prayer ropes flying from his wrists, he made grand bows at the entrance to the nave, and again, the entire congregation watching, with a flourish prostrated before virtually every icon in the church. It was such a display that no one listened to the hours.

Then, just before the time the Liturgy should have begun, Bill came up to the door of the altar and announced he must have confession, or he’d be in big trouble with the holy elders. Father, being patient with zealous youths, went to hear the confession.

«I am the worst of all sinners!» Bill began as usual. Then he read his list, only four pages this morning. «And I only could do two hundred prostrations, not my usual three hundred, and only read four akathists, so I am not fully prepared for communion,» he said. «Besides, I just had to have a cup of coffee, but since everyone else does anyway, can I still go to communion?»

The priest had heard it all before. What does one say? «You did all those prayers, and still had to have a cup of coffee?»

«Well, the Elder said I had to do the prayers, but I couldn’t stay awake to finish them all. So I had some coffee. But doesn’t everyone in this jurisdiction even have breakfast before Liturgy? I heard that Bishop So-and-so even had coffee with those godless Catholics right before Liturgy. Besides, it was at three a.m. when I had the coffee, and it’s almost ten now.»

A little after, thought the priest. «Why didn’t you start your rule a little earlier?»

«Well, the book I just read said it must only be done after midnight, as that is the time to battle demons. Besides, Madonna was on ‘Saturday Night Live.’ Uh . . . the video clips of hers really led me into a big temptation … so I did all those prostrations.»

Father really did not know what to address first. «Father,» Bill asked, «don’t you think it’s time to start being more traditional, to get rid of those paraffin candles and use real beeswax? It is more Orthodox. It really bothers me that the choir reads half the texts of the vigil, instead of singing them, like last night. And on the wrong calendar too. It took me three hours just to repeat the vigil on the right calendar! I’m afraid I am going to have to find another jurisdiction that is more Orthodox. Am I the only one in this parish who knows how to do things right? Besides, I have invited my Elder to meet you, and he’ll set you straight on all this stuff. He told me we have to do everything correctly, like they do it, otherwise we’ll all burn in hell.»

Father was losing patience, looking at his watch, 10:20 and counting. «Okay, Vasili, look, there are a number of issues here, and we need to talk about them, but not while the whole church is waiting for you to finish. When did you go to confession last?»

«Yesterday, at the monastery. I think I have finally found a spiritual father worthy of my obedience.»

«And who is he?»

«Fr. So-and-so, from the monastery in the mountains. He is coming to serve with you next Sunday.»

«Bill . . .»

«Vasili.»

«Okay, Vasili, then. That guy was defrocked years ago. I can’t serve with him! Who gave you a blessing to go see him? Much less submit yourself to him? Much less invite him here?»

«Oh, so you too are continuing to persecute that righteous man! I know in my heart he is truly Orthodox! Besides he baptized me yesterday, making up for what you did not do by chrismating me. Actually,» getting excited, «why am I here anyway? I should really go be with him as the true criterion of Orthodoxy. . . Not in this modernist, ecumenist jurisdiction. My spiritual father may have been defrocked, but he is obedient to God, not those godless bishops! I know it because I feel it in my heart. ..»

«So,» said Father, rather irritated, «why do you want to go to communion here anyway?»

«What! You would deny me my right to go to communion!» he whined, as he stormed out.

Monastery Life Vs. Parish Life

This story is a rather extreme, but not entirely uncommon, example of what can go wrong when laypeople—especially those who are spiritually immature— take to visiting monasteries for the wrong reasons and in the wrong spirit.

The growth of monasteries in North America over the past thirty years, and especially in the past five years, has brought about a tremendous opportunity for faithful Orthodox Christians to visit monasteries as pilgrims and be exposed to monastic tradition. A monastery, among other things, is a place which practices the liturgical and spiritual life in a maximalist way. This maximalism is expressed in a number of ways, including long, full services, strict ascetic discipline, and very conservative attitudes in everything from language, style, and dress to how one conducts one’s personal life. Many confuse monastic maximalism and conservatism with a kind of reactionary ethnic agenda. This is a great mistake, however.

The monasteries incarnate Orthodox culture, regardless of what ethnic flavor it may have. It is the timeless, universal (Catholic) culture passed on by the holy fathers and mothers of the Orthodox Church, through personal discipleship and obedience. The monastic culture is nothing other than obedience to the Gospel, through discipleship to our spiritual fathers, who convey the tradition of how to live out the Gospel in its fullness. To visit an Orthodox monastery is not just to visit that particular community in that place at that time. It is to enter into that living Christian culture which has been handed over from generation to generation by the holy fathers.

Monasticism, the way of repentance, is a radically different way of life from living in the world, with a family, a job, and in a parish. Parishes are the front lines of where the Church meets the world, where a culture is sanctified and transformed by the Gospel. People lead busy lives in the world, and are not able to lead as active a liturgical life as in a monastery. Parish life seldom is and often cannot be maximalist in ethos. Yet a parish is not a compromise, a second-class way of being a Christian. Being a Christian in the world is taking the Gospel to the world, and living and witnessing to Christ while participating fully and actively in the culture. This is a very high calling!

Monastics have a different calling: to be «not of this world,» and to structure their lives solely by the Gospel, and by the traditions of the Church, especially the liturgical cycles. It is very important to remember that there is no difference between the services prescribed for a parish and those of a monastery. There is no difference in the rules of fasting, prayer, or piety. The main difference is that people in parishes are engaged in the world, and monks are not. The monasteries are critically important to the life of the parishes: they constitute the reservoir of the living Tradition, in its purity, where people can experience the Gospel lived out in a radical way. Monasticism can inform their lives, inspire faithful laity to greater dedication of their lives to Christ and the Gospel, and provide a place of healing and spiritual consolation.

But as Bill/Vasili’s story illustrates, there are also some great temptations that people can fall into in visiting monasteries. These temptations are all centered around spiritual pride, and the prelest (delusion) which can go along with it.

1. The Trap of Spiritual Pride

Spiritual pride is an easy trap for those new to the faith, who are newly exposed to monastic life, and who are seeking and striving to live an authentic Orthodox spiritual life. It can especially be a trap for those visiting monasteries, seeking spiritual direction, and not knowing what an authentic Orthodox life in the world, in a parish, is all about.

Faithful people go to monasteries, and see people’s piety and how things are done in that monastic tradition, and want to emulate it—but without understanding it. Pilgrims go and encounter spiritual elders and monks who live lives which, in their view, are more «spiritual» than that of their own parish priest—so they judge him as inadequate to fit their spiritual needs. They go to confession, develop a spiritual relationship with a spiritual father or mother in a monastery, and think that theirs is the only way to salvation. They receive spiritual direction which they may interpret wrongly. Sometimes, people just get some bad advice, and uncritically turn it into the ultimate criterion of spiritual life. And sometimes people will go to a monastery or spiritual father who has been disciplined by the Church, and disregarded the discipline. Then the pilgrim-turned-disciple gets caught up in the self-justification of the errant elder, which in some cases has created a schism.

Excessive external piety, false humility, preoccupation with gossip and «issues» in the life of the Church, judging people on their piety or stance in these issues, complete assurance that one knows exactly how things should be done, and perhaps most dangerous of all, idolizing a person or place as the ultimate criterion of Orthodoxy, can all be symptoms of this malady. They are all aspects of spiritual immaturity. What is missing in all this is Christ and the real spiritual struggle with oneself.

2. Excessive Piety

Zeal for Christ and the Church are great and wonderful things; but authentic zeal is very different from a zeal that comes from one’s passions. Carnal zeal always has some element of self-gratification or self-centeredness, by which one justifies oneself as truly Orthodox, truly pious, and «in the know.» Authentic zeal is not directed towards anything but union in Christ, or against anything but one’s own fallenness. With true zeal, there is no hypocrisy. False zeal, the delusion of spiritual pride and conceit, is always hypocritical.

Piety is an important way of personalizing the experience and mystery of the faith. Bowing, making the sign of the cross, behaving reverently, and all the other forms given to us by the Tradition are very useful in this. But they are never to be used except to express one’s own love for God. They should never be used to «teach» others who are doing things «wrong,» or to try to «convict» people of their impiety; much less, to show others that «I know how to do things ‘right’.» In many monasteries, the rules for external expression of piety— bowing, crossing oneself, prostrations, and so forth—are observed very carefully; in parishes, however, they often are not. One should never attract attention to oneself through external piety. That only feeds the pride and self-centeredness that is in us, and distracts other people from their prayers.

The rules of fasting also fall into this category. Monasteries generally follow the rules quite strictly. And there is no difference whatsoever in the rules for fasting between monks and laity. That does not mean, however, that one should ever judge another, much less comment, on how someone fasts or doesn’t fast. Not only is it usually hypocritical, but it misses the point. Fasting, and all the other rules of the Church, are a means and not an end. If we fast, and feel proud about it, and condemn another for not being so strict, it would have been better for us if we had not fasted at all (Romans 14:3 ff).

The same rule applies to the liturgical life of the Church. Monasteries, by their very constitution, serve the liturgical services very fully and according to the ancient St. Sabbas Typikon. Services can go on for hours and hours, sometimes, and occupy a major proportion of each day. There is no difference whatever, at least in the Slavic traditions, in the services prescribed for monasteries and those for parishes. For a pilgrim to a monastery, while at first the services may seem a real chore, and too long, eventually they grow on you, and you want nothing else. Parish services, abbreviated out of pastoral necessity, can seem incomplete.

There are a couple of temptations here. The first is to think that the monasteries are doing it «right,» while the parish is doing it «wrong.» The second temptation is to think that there is not as much grace in the parish services, and that the services and liturgical/spiritual life are not being taken seriously. This inevitably leads to judging the parish priest as less «spiritual» and lazy because he cuts the services. Little do we remember that at our first monastic services we were the first to sit down when we had a chance, and glance at our watches every five minutes, wondering if and when it was ever going to end! Parishes abbreviate out of pastoral necessity, and at the discretion of the pastor. One must not judge a priest or parish when they are doing all they can!

3. Judgmentalism

The biggest sin is to judge some one, especially the priest. The standard we set for the priest is usually impossibly high, something we ourselves could never live up to. Thus, any such judgment is immediately hypocrisy. The life of a parish priest is very different, filled with completely different cares, concerns, and responsibilities, from that of a priestmonk in a monastery. The laity see very little of the actual life of their priest. Many think he only works for two hours on Sundays! But to be a pastor is actually an eighty-plus-hour-a-week job. How can the laity judge him? And especially his «spirituality»?

The priestmonk may appear to be more «spiritual» because he is in church for six or eight hours a day, and has few other responsibilities. Try to do that with a family, and dozens or hundreds of parishioners to serve! The asceticism of being in the world and serving Christ, whether as priest or layperson, is equally as great as that of a monk in a monastery. It takes as profound a «spirituality» to do it. But the details will differ with the circumstances.

4. Abuse of Spiritual Guidance

Often people will go to monasteries for spiritual guidance and confession. It is a venerable and ancient Orthodox tradition to have a priestmonk in a monastery as a spiritual father, and to submit one’s life to him. Sometimes people will go to a great elder, mostly for the big questions in life. It is also true that some people will connect better with their parish priest than others. This should be supported by the parish clergy.

If the Church is a spiritual hospital, the monasteries are the intensive care wards, with the specialists. You don’t go to a family doctor for cancer; but you also don’t go to a neurosurgeon for a cold. The great elders are those specialists who through years of ascetic purification and experience know how to deal with many of the big questions in life that people bring. Many have great spiritual gifts. Many do not. Most monastics are not elders by any stretch of the imagination. This does not compromise their ability to serve as confessor, consoler, and spiritual father. Whether it is a parish priest, a priestmonk, an eldress, or a great elder, the source of the advice and consolation is ultimately the same: God.

A true elder is one who always leaves a person with a profound sense of freedom, even when he reveals to a person the will of God. There is never any manipulation or personal agenda. The elder simply wants the salvation of the person, and is a vessel for him of God’s love and forgiveness. The great temptation is to idolize the elder, and even substitute him/her for Christ. A personality cult leads to the destruction of both the elder and the disciples.

Obedience is very important in the spiritual life. Obedience, however, is always within certain boundaries. It can never involve doing what is illegal or immoral. True spiritual obedience has one end: to lead us to obedience to God. It is always within the Church, always toward a more profound level of communion, both ecclesially and personally.

A great temptation, especially for Americans, is to try to find an elder (read also priest or bishop) who is «worthy of my obedience.» This is complete spiritual pride and delusion. We may think that we need a great elder, only the best, to submit ourselves to, because only such a gifted one could understand us, and «I could only associate myself with someone who could recognize and develop my unique potential.» This is presumption, conceit, and arrogance, presuming oneself to be on the highest of spiritual planes. In reality, especially if we have such an attitude, the last person we would be able to deal with would be a great elder of profound spiritual life, who would quickly cut us down to size. Our pride could not handle that, and we would disregard his advice—even, paradoxically, if what he advises would be the best thing for us.

5. Ecclesiastical Gossip

A last great temptation is to get involved in gossip about people, places, practices, and especially the «issues» confronting the Church. Whether it is who is doing what, how they serve this or that service and with whom, or the like, which is all gossip; or whether it involves the greater problems confronting the Church, such as ecumenism, the calendar, or what they are or are not teaching at such and such a seminary; there is very little fruitful and much more that is sinful in all that idle talk. The Lord said that we will be accountable for each word.

Not only does this gossip involve judging people, especially hierarchs, clergy, and teachers who will have to answer for themselves before God; it distracts us from the one thing needful: to pursue our own salvation. We are only accountable to God for our own salvation, not for issues which we can have no effect on. One of the saddest things is that monasteries tend to attract people who in the name of being serious about their spiritual-life fall into this delusion, while all this kind of gossip and factionalism actually destroys their souls.

It is bad enough that people talk about such things in person; many also read whole publications that are essentially scandal sheets. The Internet is perhaps the worst vehicle for such gossip. This is nothing other than ecclesiastical pornography. It must be avoided at all costs!

Why We Should Visit Monasteries

Faithful Orthodox Christians should go on pilgrimage to monasteries often, should strive to emulate the piety and asceticism of the monastics as far as possible, and should seek the counsel of monastic spiritual fathers and mothers. The temptations and trials come primarily from our own spiritual immaturity and ignorance. We have to be aware of our weaknesses, and strive for the authentic spiritual values of humility, faith, and love.

The prayer of St. Ephraim should always be with us, as the overall guide for our spiritual life: O Lord and Master of my life, do not give me the spirit of sloth, faintheartedness, lust of power, and idle talk; but give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Thy servant. Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own sins and not to judge my brother, for blessed art Thou unto ages of ages. Amen!

By Hieromonk Jonah (Paffhausen)

Published in AGAIN magazine

Source: http://www.kiev-orthodox.org/site/english/722/

It is quite a typical situation: a husband comes home after work, but his wife does not pay attention to whether he came or not. She is busy in the kitchen, she pills the vegetables or washes the dishes. One can hear only the words like, “You have come already? Finished your work? Don’t you need to go somewhere else? Do you really have to go home at once?”

It does not matter whether the husband is at home or not. The wife pretends as if he did not exist at all. He is worthless in her eyes. The man behaves the same way towards the woman. We all like to be appreciated. We all need to be loved and be meaningful for others.

When someone says you “well done”, you feel enlightened and understands that everything is fine. You keep working in the same spirit. This is not about egoism, but it is a good reason, which gives you strength to keep going with it.

The wife goes to a hairdresser, she has her hair done up and colored, she looks after herself. Then she comes home, but her husband is indifferent just as before.

Archimandrite Andrew (Konanos)

Next day she goes to work and meets a male colleague in the office, who says, “It is a pleasure to look at you, your hair is nice. I like your new image!” Her husband did not notice that, while a stranger did.

A familiar pattern, isn’t it?

Why did not the husband notice? For whom did she do that? For whom did she become even more beautiful? For you. But you do not understand.

A woman told me once: “When my husband is watching sports, he doesn’t pay attention to what’s around him. At this time, there is no one else in the world for him. He wouldn’t notice me even if I enter the room on a horse wearing my burning with fire hair down. While watching he can’t look at me for a second. There is nothing else for him. Just as if I didn’t exist.”

A human’s soul is like a tiny flower or a piece of glass jewelry, which we need to preserve and feed.

Our children need the same care. Try to communicate with your children more often. People ask why do children always hurry to go in the street. You know why? Because when their friends see them, they say, “Hi, friend!” This is it.

But you do not speak to your child like this. You only say, “You are useless. You will be an illiterate. You don’t keep pace with life. Loser. We pay for your life and your school, and you just do nothing. You waste your time. We fell sick because of you. You are breaking us…”

Listen to me! Show him some reward. We do not look after our children and then we say, “Why doesn’t my child love me? Why does he run away when he sees me? Why does he choose various parties, why does he hurry to spend time with friends, why does he visit other people?” You ask why? Because people love them there as they can.

Of course, you love your child, but you do not show this. It is not only about love but also about showing your attitude. We all love. In fact, we show our love only towards the dead, standing near the grave.

Only there you can see all these emotions, tears and feelings. While your beloved one is alive, you demand to obey the rules. But the he passes away, and you feel pain because of the loss. But it is too late.

Love each other, watch each other, preserve your life and love. Do not be afraid to show it.

From the book by Archimandrite Andrew (Konanos),

“There are certain difficulties in the marriage…”

Source: http://pravlife.org/content/arh-andrey-konanos-poprobuyte-sdelat-eto-i-schaste-pridet-v-vash-dom

Saint Brigid, “the Mary of the Gael,” was born around 450 in Faughart, about two miles from Dundalk in County Louth. According to Tradition, her father was a pagan named Dubthach, and her mother was Brocessa (Broiseach), one of his slaves.

Even as a child, she was known for her compassion for the poor. She would give away food, clothing, and even her father’s possessions to the poor. One day he took Brigid to the king’s court, leaving her outside to wait for him. He asked the king to buy his daughter from him, since her excessive generosity made her too expensive for him to keep. The king asked to see the girl, so Dubthach led him outside. They were just in time to see her give away her father’s sword to a beggar. This sword had been presented to Dubthach by the king, who said, “I cannot buy a girl who holds us so cheap.”

Saint Brigid received monastic tonsure at the hands of Saint Mael of Ardagh (February 6). Soon after this, she established a monastery on land given to her by the King of Leinster. The land was called Cill Dara (Kildare), or “the church of the oak.” This was the beginning of women’s cenobitic monasticism in Ireland.

The miracles performed by Saint Brigid are too numerous to relate here, but perhaps one story will suffice. One evening the holy abbess was sitting with the blind nun Dara. From sunset to sunrise they spoke of the joys of the Kingdom of Heaven, and of the love of Christ, losing all track of time. Saint Brigid was struck by the beauty of the earth and sky in the morning light. Realizing that Sister Dara was unable to appreciate this beauty, she became very sad. Then she prayed and made the Sign of the Cross over Dara’s eyes. All at once, the blind nun’s eyes were opened and she saw the sun in the east, and the trees and flowers sparkling with dew. She looked for a while, then turned to Saint Brigid and said, “Close my eyes again, dear Mother, for when the world is visible to the eyes, then God is seen less clearly by the soul.” Saint Brigid prayed again, and Dara became blind once more.

Saint Brigid fell asleep in the Lord in the year 523 after receiving Holy Communion from Saint Ninnidh of Inismacsaint (January 18). She was buried at Kildare, but her relics were transferred to Downpatrick during the Viking invasions. It is believed that she was buried in the same grave with Saint Patrick (March 17) and Saint Columba of Iona (June 9).

Late in the thirteenth century, her head was brought to Portugal by three Irish knights on their way to fight in the Holy Land. They left this holy relic in the parish church of Lumiar, about three miles from Lisbon. Portions of the relic were brought back to Ireland in 1929 and placed in a new church of Saint Brigid in Dublin.

The relics of Saint Brigid in Ireland were destroyed in the sixteenth century by Lord Grey during the reign of Henry VIII.

The tradition of making Saint Brigid’s crosses from rushes and hanging them in the home is still followed in Ireland, where devotion to her is still strong. She is also venerated in northern Italy, France, and Wales.

Source: https://oca.org/saints/lives/2018/02/01/100406-venerable-brigid-bridget-of-ireland

One of my greatest stumbling blocks coming into the Orthodox Church was the closed communion table. Growing up Protestant, my experience was that the table was open to anyone who considered themselves to be a Christian. Attending an Orthodox Church and not being able to partake of the Eucharist was difficult for me. I believe in Jesus, isn’t that enough?

Perhaps the best place to start is with scripture and the questions:

- When did Christians begin partaking of the Eucharist?

- What is the Eucharist?

- Why do Christians partake of it?

- And finally, why is the table open only to Orthodox members in good standing?

The Initiation of Mystery

All four Gospels record the last supper of our Lord. With that being the case, it would be wise for us to pay close attention to what was done and said because it is important.

Matthew records:

And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to the disciples and said, “Take, eat; this is My body.” Then He took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them saying, “Drink from it, all of you. For this is My blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.” (26:26-28)

Mark 14:22-24 and Luke 22:19-20 have nearly identical language to the Matthew passage above to describe that evening. As we can see from the above accounts, the initiation of this mystery (sacrament) was during the Last Supper of our Lord. Christians have been faithful to this life-giving command ever since that time.

What is the Eucharist and why do we partake?

As clearly outlined above, our Lord Jesus Christ Himself states that the bread and wine are His Body and Blood. He never states they are “like” or “similar to,” but that they are of Him. The Eucharist therefore is the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which we take “for the remission of [our] sins and for life everlasting.” This has always been the understanding of Christians.

Not being satisfied with merely recording the event, the Apostle John unwraps its meaning through the teachings of Christ:

The Jews therefore quarreled among themselves, saying, “How can this Man give us His flesh to eat?”

Then Jesus said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For My flesh is food indeed, and My blood is drink indeed. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. (6:52-56)

In the above passage, Christ gives as clear a teaching as possible: we are to partake of His Flesh and Blood if we wish to have any life in Him. Boldly, He states the consequence of disobedience of this command: those who disobey “have no life” in them. Many disciples were offended and walked away from Jesus at that point. Notice that he did not call them back saying, “Hey guys, I was just being metaphorical!”

A spiritual metaphor?

I grew up believing that all of the above passages were to be understood in a “spiritual sense,” which is a modern way of saying we are to understand it intellectually, but not think of it as having any real significance. With that being the case, I have attended several churches that serve communion only occasionally because it has lost most of its meaning.

But that thinking was foreign to Christianity and did not become “normal” until the last few hundred years. The Apostle Paul, who wrote much of the New Testament, verifies the Orthodox belief of Christ’s presence in the Eucharist in the book of 1st Corinthians 11. He writes,

For I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you: that the Lord Jesus on the same night in which He was betrayed took bread; and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, “Take, eat; this is My body which is broken for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” In the same manner He also took the cup after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in My blood. This do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.”

All of that should sound quite familiar from the Matthew passage above. But St Paul continues,

Therefore whoever eats this bread or drinks this cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body. For this reason many are weak and sick among you, and many sleep.

In the above text, Paul makes it quite clear that those who were partaking of the Eucharist in an unworthy manner were getting sick and even dying (falling asleep). This was not some abstract or lofty theological opinion, this was understood to be a life and death matter.

Why a closed table?

As mentioned above, those who unworthily partake of the Eucharist could potentially suffer sickness or death. Additionally, the Apostle John shows us in 13:26-27 that Judas received the Bread with malice in his heart and “Satan entered him.” As one Akathist1 states, “What should have been for his salvation is turned into death and damnation for him.”

In other words, those that partook unworthily in the past and partake unworthily today open themselves to demonic oppression or possession, sickness, and death. It is nothing we should wish even upon our enemies.

The Eucharist is not some nice gesture of Christian unity and brotherhood, nor is it something we do while merely “remembering” Christ’s command as well as His death. We Orthodox Christians honestly believe that we are partaking of the Body and Blood of our Lord, and that when we do so in an unprepared manner (either we have unconfessed sin in our lives or we lack proper faith in Christ) then we eat and drink damnation unto ourselves.

Immediately before communion, the priest holds up the cup and makes the following ancient Christian proclamation:

“With fear of God and with faith draw near.”

We Christians, since the time of the apostles, have always understood the partaking of the Eucharist to be a sign that we are one in faith…not just that we want to be one, or we love each other and have warm feelings of affection, but that we share an identical faith. It is a public proclamation that we adhere to the teachings of the Orthodox Church.

St Justin Martyr confirms this in the second century:

And this food is called among us the Eucharist, of which no one is allowed to partake but the man who believes that the things which we teach are true, and who has been washed with the washing that is for the remission of sins [baptism], and unto regeneration, and who is so living as Christ has enjoined.

Anyone who teaches otherwise, if they were to be honest, must confess that they are teaching something new. Those who “believe that the things which we teach are true” are either already Orthodox or they are actively looking into the faith. Everyone else has a different faith than us, which I do not say to condemn them, but merely to state the obvious.

We live in a culture that has a very low view of truth and in which doctrine is not held very closely. For several years I honestly thought, “There are so many theological opinions out there, who knows what is really correct?”

It is difficult to overcome our cultural tendencies without much effort. We tend to interpret our faith through the cultural lens of “I’m ok, you’re ok.” But historically, true Christianity has never done that. And the Orthodox Church, which is a continuation of the ancient church of the apostles, never will cater to our culture’s whims.

This is not hostility

With all of that said, please don’t believe that Orthodox Christians are antagonistic toward others. Our Akathist for Holy Communion that many Orthodox Christians prayerfully read before communion reminds us of one our Lord’s teachings,

“I pray that they all may be one, as Thou, Father, art in Me and I in Thee, that they also may be one in Us; that the world may believe”…

Jesus, grant that we all abide in oneness of mind,

in faith and love for Thee!

Jesus, who cannot abide enmity and division,

destroy impious heresies and schisms!

Jesus, who lovest and hast mercy upon all,

gather all the lost sheep into one flock!

For those of us who read this Akathist, part of our preparation for the holy Eucharist is that we pray for those who are not one with us. It is true, we could technically open up the table to anyone in the name of brotherly unity and love regardless of the consequences I mentioned above, but it would require us to close our eyes to the real differences that do exist in our beliefs. And the end result with be nothing but a warm-fuzzy, feel-good, false unity. Two things that we Orthodox love are truth and genuineness. Anyone else who feels the same will agree that false unity is not sufficient.

Source: http://www.orthodoxroad.com/why-a-closed-communion-table-part-2/#more-1824