The Catalog of Good Deeds

Spiritual life is full of paradoxes. Thus, an individual doesn’t notice his sins before he turns to God. He can’t even imagine that he has to confess anything at all. As soon as the individual turns to God, he immediately finds out that he is a sinner. Before we turn to God, the only thing that we can see is our false righteousness. When we encounter God, we begin to acknowledge our sinfulness and powerlessness. Apparently, our image of self is very distorted until God sheds his light into our souls.

Self-righteousness makes you blind, while repentance makes you see. We move forward only when we finally begin to feel and realize how weak and unstable we are without God. The paradox here lies in the fact that a soul that acknowledges that she is lost, will be saved, whilst the soul that regards herself saved, will perish.

Using visible signs to evaluate your spiritual progress is a mistake. It will lead us to notice our so-called achievements everywhere. We will begin to count how much good we have done: we gave money to a beggar, we helped an old lady to cross the street, we don’t swear for a long time already, we don’t drink too much booze, we don’t smoke, we don’t fight with anybody. Don’t we deserve the Paradise? This kind of statistical thinking makes you arrogant, and arrogance in turn leads to failure.

Take, for example, a young man who decided to quit smoking. He stopped smoking on the first day of the Great Lent — amazing, isn’t it? After that, he glued a cigarette to the door of his toilet, where he had used to smoke, and wrote “I DID IT” in big letters. He intended it to remind him that he had summoned enough willpower to defeat his weakness, and that he wasn’t attached to cigarettes any longer. However, two years later he ran into some trouble and started smoking a lot again. That is what “I did it” means; that’s what your reliance on your own strength means. That is why the path to perfection in the Gospel starts with the commandment “Blessed are the poor in spirit…” Our spiritual achievement are possible only thanks to God’s power. We shouldn’t rely on ourselves.

You shouldn’t measure your spiritual advancement by counting the good actions that you do. You should detect your own previously overlooked shortcomings and work on eliminating them. Just take a look inside yourself and see what happens in your heart when you are blamed and scolded unjustly, when they prefer another person to you — and you’ll see how Christian you really are.

There is a story about Abba Anthony in the Book of Memorable Stories. Some monks told Abba Anthony about a wonderful ascetic. When the said monk came to Abba Anthony, the latter decided to test whether the monk could be able to put up with an insult, and he couldn’t. Abba Anthony told him, “You’re like a village that looks great from the outside but is devastated by robbers inside.” Likewise, we sometimes appear to be decent but are torn apart with passions, anger, and the search for our own “truth” inside.

If I lose my temper when someone pulls a joke on me or criticizes me, it means that I haven’t made any spiritual progress. If someone’s words are capable of taking my composure away, where is my spiritual maturity and stability?

We make spiritual progress only when the negative impact from other people, their reproaches, annoyance, or resentment don’t quench our love towards them. When our souls love so much that no one in the world can hurt it. When we are happy with someone else’s success and forget about our own — these are the first indications of our spiritual growth. However, it is achievable only if we pursue God and repent of our spiritual flaws sincerely.

To that extent, your confession must not consist of a formal enumeration of your imperfections, which are common for all of us. You should confess your own spiritual issues, the painful memories of your life that you have a hard time struggling with. Have a closer look at what you keep stumbling over and what you may even be ashamed to admit: that’s what you should confess to make sure that you move forward in your life.

May the Lord help us not to stumble on the road of our spiritual life.

By Fr. Valery Dukhanin

Translated by The Catalog of Good Deeds

Next in this commentary series on the Divine Liturgy I would like examine the Peace and the Creed. The liturgical exchange of the Peace (or “the holy Kiss” to use more ancient terminology) goes back to the very earliest possible time. St. Paul ends both of his epistles to the Corinthians by telling them to “Greet one another with a holy kiss” (1 Corinthians 16:20, 2 Corinthians 13:12), as he also does in his first epistle to the Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 5:26). This kiss was not simply epistolary convention, but a liturgical action—since Paul’s letters would have been read to the churches during their liturgical assembly (probably at the conclusion of their readings from Scripture—compare the pairing of Paul’s letters with Scripture readings in 2 Peter 3:16), the holy kiss he bids them offer also formed part of their liturgical assembly.

In fact it formed an integral part of every celebration of the Eucharist, and the earliest extant account of the Eucharist from the second century pen of St. Justin Martyr tells us that “having ended the prayers [i.e. the prayers of intercession] we salute one another with a kiss” (from his Apology, chapter 65). During the time when the church congregations were small enough to be intimate and close-knit, the holy Kiss was exchanged even across the gender divide (thus Tertullian in his To His Wife, 2, 4), and on the mouth (the custom being mentioned in Sophronius’ account of the Life of St. Mary of Egypt). It was not long until this custom was felt to be problematic, and the Kiss was later restricted according to gender. But however given, the Kiss of Peace is still retained in our Liturgy, as the deacon bids the faithful every Sunday “Let us love one another!” He is not here inculcating an internal attitude, but giving liturgical directive — a directive which is followed by the clergy when two or more of them concelebrate. It is tragic that the laity do not follow suit and exchange the Kiss among those standing next to them. St. Justin Martyr would wonder, as would Chrysostom, why the people were not doing what they were told.

The Kiss of Peace is not simply an expression of socialization, a kind of liturgical “hello there, nice to see you”. Rather it functions to seal the intercessory prayers of the people which (as we see from Justin’s description) it immediately followed. In this exchange each communicant recognizes his fellow-communicant as a fellow-member of Christ’s Body — that is, flesh of his own flesh, blood of his own blood, as intimately a part of himself as one member of a human body is to another. That is why the Kiss was never exchanged with the catechumens, for they were not yet members of that one Body (or, in the words of Hippolytus’ Apostolic Tradition, “their kiss is not yet holy”). Far less would it be exchanged with a heretic, as St. John reveals when he forbids the faithful to give the heretic any greeting — i.e. any liturgical greeting (2 John 10).

The Peace serves to express the mutual love and seal the unity which all enjoy as members of the one Body of Christ. Without this unity, our intercessory prayers remain unsealed, ineffective, unheard, for they are only sealed through love. Christ teaches this when He says that if we refuse our brother forgiveness, we ourselves will not be forgiven. St. Peter taps into the same principle when he insists that a man must honour his wife as a joint heir of the grace of life, lest his own prayers be hindered (Matthew 7:14-15, 1 Peter 3:7). A person trained in the western church’s concern for legality will look only to the question of whether or not a Eucharist is “valid”. But validity is not the issue; the power that comes from love is. In the Didache (ca. 100 A.D.) it says “let no one who has a quarrel with a companion join you until they have been reconciled, so that your sacrifice [i.e. the Eucharist] may not be defiled” (Сhapter 14).

This leads to another function of the Peace in the Liturgy, that of sacramental preparation. The mutual recognition and acceptance of one another as fellow-members of the same Body allows for reconciliation before the weekly reception of Holy Communion. The Church has always applied to its own Eucharistic worship Christ’s words in Matthew 5:23f: “If you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother and then come and offer your gift.” Christ originally intended this counsel to show how essential forgiveness was to worship, and He said it was so crucial that even if it was at the last moment before the sacrificial knife fell upon the neck of the sacrificial animal that one remembered a need for reconciliation, even then one must call a halt to the offering and go first to be reconciled. Our sacrifice is the Eucharist, and the weekly Kiss allows for a weekly opportunity for reconciliation and peace. That was why it was exchanged after the intercessions and before the Eucharist. It sealed the former and prepared for the latter.

The Kiss of Peace is followed immediately by the Creed. The Creed was not originally a part of the Eucharist, but of baptism. It constituted an expression of the faith into which the candidate was baptized, and if he or she could not confess that faith, then baptism was not possible. In Constantinople it was first inserted into the Liturgy around the end of the fifth century. And of course once it found a place in the Liturgy, no bishop wanted to be known as one who removed it from the Liturgy as if he disagreed with its contents. So, the Creed became a fixture in the Eucharist.

Whether through accident or providence, it is fortunate that it did, for it expresses the inseparable link of love and belief, of our interior disposition and our outer confession of faith. We need both to be truly Orthodox, for love without faith and faith without love are equally unavailing. The Peace and the Creed are joined in a kind of liturgical symbiosis: “Let us love one another that with one mind we may confess Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the Trinity one in essence and undivided”. To offer a pure sacrifice we need both love in our hearts, and the true faith on our lips. Both lovelessness and heresy would contaminate our offering; we need to love one another and confess the true faith.

The presence of the Creed reveals that it matters what we believe, and that mere sincerity is not enough to participate in the Church’s offering. And we must also embrace not just the words of the Creed, but the meaning of those words as intended by their authors. In some circles it is enough to simply say the words, apart from their original meaning and intent. Thus one could say the words about Christ being raised from the dead and still believe that His body was never physically raised. “By ‘the Resurrection’” this person might say, “I only mean that Christ’s spirit and values will always be triumphant. By the words ‘He was born of the Virgin Mary’, I only mean that Christ was morally unique among all the rest of humankind.” One could fill a bibliography with people saying such things. But anyone with a shred of historical integrity and any loyalty to the Fathers will renounce such sophistry. We must say the words and mean by them what they originally meant. When we say that He was raised from the dead, we mean that His glorified physical flesh and bones emerged from the empty tomb, leaving only the grave-clothes behind. When we say that He was born of the Virgin Mary, we mean that He had no physical father. One can play games with history, the Creed, and the Fathers, but God is not mocked. The creed of one saying this is not ours, and we cannot in conscience give him the Kiss of peace, “for he who greets him shares his wicked work” (2 John 11).

The Peace and the Creed thus form both an expression of and a foundation for unity. As soon as the Kiss is exchanged and the Creed is chanted, it is time to stand aright, to stand with fear. The time for the sacrifice of praise is then at hand.

By Fr. Lawrence Farley

Source: https://blogs.ancientfaith.com/nootherfoundation/commentary-divine-liturgy-peace-creed/

Cross processions in Russia have a vibrant history and are hugely popular. So much so that 60,000 Russians are willing to walk 100 miles to honor religious occurrences.

On holidays and special occasions, Russian believers will all suddenly empty out of the church and proceed outside, whether it’s swelteringly hot or snowing, and follow the cross and the priests... sometimes for a walk around the church, other times for hundred-mile hikes.

Cross processions are a traditional and very popular part of Russian Christianity. The tradition dates back to the Byzantine empire in 400 AD when saints organized night processions around Constantinople to help protect the city from the heretics of the day.

The clergy leads the procession with a cross, a Bible, and religious banners. Behind them, the crowd follows, singing religious hymns and sometimes carrying candles. The procession makes frequent stops to pray (and sometimes get sprayed with holy water).

Russians love the tradition. Sometimes cross processions are held to celebrate church holidays, such as Easter when the procession occurs at midnight. Everyone in the church files out and walks around the church three times, singing resurrection hymns. The empty church symbolizes the empty tomb of Christ.

Some monasteries have daily processions in the evenings. Monks walk around the perimeter of their monastery with candles. After they return to the gates of the monastery and re-enter it, the monastery is locked for the night. This procession is believed to protect the monastery from all evil and turmoil for the night.

There is another, especially popular, type of cross processions that reenacts spiritual journeys of saints or miracle-working icons. One of the most famous ones is a 92-mile walk to the place where, in 1382, the Velikoretsky miracle-working icon of St. Nicholas was found.

Though the icon itself disappeared during the 1930s and the Soviet Regime outlawed cross processions, pilgrims continued coming. Despite the danger of being harassed, arrested and some even executed, unofficially, the tradition continued throughout the entire Soviet period. In 1990, it was officially reinstated. Today, the procession mobilizes up to 60,000 people and lasts a week. Nights are spent in the fields.

According to a famous Russian priest, cross processions are physical expressions of “one communal national faith and zealous prayer for help and grace.” Indeed, the immeasurable zeal of people who joyfully dedicate a week to communal, religious marches to glorify God is absolutely stunning and inspiring.

Source: https://russian-faith.com/explaining-orthodoxy/religious-marches-are-big-part-russian-christianity-n1075

Question: My son drinks heavily and keeps telling me that he doesn’t want to live any longer. He says, “I’m going to hang myself. I’m desperate.” What should I do? Please help me. Tatiana.

Answer by Fr. Andrew Lemeshonok: You’ve got to find out the original reason for this if you want to fight your own sin and help your loved one in his struggle with his sin. He drinks and doesn’t want to live because he doesn’t see any meaning in life. He doesn’t know why and what for he has to keep going. He doesn’t recognise the value of his life. That is why he chooses to muffle his senses with alcohol to forget about everything. It’s self-deception.

There is a spiritual component of my answer to your question. You have to pray for your son and go to church and take communion as often as possible. You should believe and hope that God can help your son. In addition, you should be talking with your son. Talk with your son and try to persuade him that life does have a meaning; that a sober life is worth living; and that there is a real purpose in life.

Of course, it’s unlikely that you will be able to accomplish this without God’s grace and solely by willpower. However, if you persist in your dialogue with your son; if you don’t condemn him, judge him, or yell at him but instead, show him your understanding and sympathy; if he sees compassion and love in your eyes — then he will surely listen to you and you’ll be able to bring him to church for a confession. Hopefully, he will agree to pray to the Mother of God and read the Akathist to the Inexhaustible Chalice icon. By doing so, he will turn a new page of his life. It isn’t easy, of course, because he is used to sinning already; he has a habit of living in the drowsy and insane state of intoxication.

You will need a lot of humility, a lot of patience, and a lot of hard work. God can hear your every word. Spiritually advanced people say that a mother’s prayer can raise her child even from the bottom of an ocean.

August 17, 2018

St. Elisabeth Convent

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