Arms Open Wide to Persons with Disability, by William Gall

Basil's Search For Miracles

Buy Basil’s Search for Miracles now at
 http://www.conciliarpress.com, http://www.amazon.com and http://www.barnesandnoble.com.

In Basil's Search for Miracles, an ordinary 12-year-old boy named Basil must find and report on true, modern miracles for his school paper, the St. Norbert News. After Basil sees a real weeping icon, meets with people who have been miraculously healed of deadly illnesses, and more, he begins to put the faith he is exploring in motion in his own life, trying to get along better with his single mom and befriending the social outcast of the school, a troubled boy named Anthony. Throughout the rest of his first year at a private parochial school, Basil not only researches a new miracle for each issue of the "News," but learns that everyday miracles can happen even in his own life.

"In the best tradition of Christian children's fiction, Basil's Search for Miracles touches on larger mysteries of life that young people today need to experience through story. Engaging the reader through a young boy's discovery, in contemporary secular America, of early Christian tradition in the Orthodox Church, it is at the same time sensitively accessible for readers of all backgrounds and ages who seek ways to make their lives more meaningful through spiritual encounters with traditional spirituality and community."
    -- Alfred K. Siewers, co-author of Tolkien's Modern Middle Ages and assistant professor of medieval literature at Bucknell University

“Basil’s Search for Miracles is a witty and riveting read. A mystery, supported by the the Great Mystery of God’s continuing Life in the world, it is packed full of wonderful characters and great action. You are sure to enjoy every word and at the end want more.”
    -- Claire Brandenburg, author of The Monk who Grew Prayer and Daniel and the Lion

Buy Basil’s Search for Miracles now at
 http://www.conciliarpress.com, http://www.amazon.com and http://www.barnesandnoble.com.

Learn more at http://www.heatherzydek.com/basil

To bring Orthodoxy to America we need more than Rhetoric

Sunday of the Holy Fathers of the 7th Ecumenical Council

Sunday of the Holy Fathers of the 7th Ecumenical Council

Read documents from the Council here

The Elevation of the Cross Sep 14

The Elevation of the Cross Sep 14

St. Makarios, Bishop of Jerusalem, is holding the Cross high above the crowd for veneration. Pictured in the crowd are St. Helen and her son, St. Constantine the Great, along with scores of saintly bishops, priests and deacons, and leading citizens of Jerusalem.

Troparion of the Holy Cross

O Lord save thy people, and bless Thine inheritance, And to the faithful people, grant victory over their enemies, And by the power of the Cross, protect all those who follow Thee.

Choir Directors: Download the Liturgical Music :: Kont - Elevation of Cross

Church School Teachers: Download Teaching Material Here for the Feast

Articles on the Elevation of the Cross

September 14, Feast Of the Holy Cross

Each year on September 14 the Orthodox Church celebrates the feast of “The Elevation of the Honorable and Life-giving Cross.” This is one of the great feasts of the Church year, and one which has an important historical background. Although one or two of the hymns for the day refer obliquely to the vision of the cross in the heavens, the actual commemoration is not that of Constantine’s vision before his battle with Maxentius on October 28, 312. On that occasion, while he was in doubt about the outcome of the impending battle for Italy, he saw in the heavens the arms of the cross stretching far and wide, and the words. “In This Conquer.”

Read more...

Also Read:

The Cross :: Central Theme of Our Christian Religion

The Elevation of the Precious and Life-Creating Cross of the Lord

Feast of Bishop Raphael Hawaweeny of Brooklyn

Feast of Bishop Raphael Hawaweeny of Brooklyn

Rejoice, O Father Raphael, Adornment of the holy Church! Thou art Champion of the True Faith, Seeker of the lost, Consolation of the oppressed, Father to orphans and Friend of the poor, Peacemaker and good Shepherd, Joy of all the Orthodox, Son of Antioch, Boast of America. Intercede with Christ God for us and for all who honor thee.

Tone Three

KEEPING THE FAITH IN THE HOLY DAYS

KEEPING THE FAITH IN THE HOLY DAYS

By Father Joseph Allen

The key to “keeping the Faith in the Holidays (holy days)” is in the understanding of “time.” In the Orthodox East, where we call such days “Feasts” or “Feastdays,” this especially means both the place of time in our lives and our use of time.

First, regarding the place of time, the religious anthropologists have shown us in many ways that the human being, from the beginning, understood that the feastdays and celebrations were an organic and essential component in his whole world-view, in his way of life. They discovered that the homo religiosus, the religious man, lived in the “rhythm of time” — where beginnings and endings, youth and aging, birth and death, were truly acknowledged as real. Thus the feastday was not something extraneous or accidental to his life; his observation of what was happening in the cosmic occurrences all around him kept this rhythm of time central. Neither was the feast a simple “break” from his usual life of hard work. Far more important to his very being, the feast was — as it should be for us today — a “marker” of such times of change and transformation. Indeed, each celebration was its own “rite of passage,” from this point to that point, from this time to that time. And the religious man lived within that cycle, quite naturally.

But when God comes into our world, the Orthodox believe that He takes that which is “natural” to all life, and entering it, infuses it with new meaning. Thus, for example, the early Christians understood that at Christmas, the Nativity of Christ (which was celebrated at a cosmic time of increasing “light” i.e., as a shift to longer days occurred), a radical change occurred in which God Himself now fully enters our natural time and transforms it forever. (Or to use the words of St. Gregory the Theologian: “The Creator bows down to his own creation.”) The same with Epiphany, which in the Orthodox East is also known as Theophany: God “reveals” Himself in the form of the Trinity, and the entire cosmos — now symbolized in the primordial substance of life, water — is infused with God’s presence. At Easter, or Pascha (“passover”), the final transformation, the final “rite of passage,” is realized as we are taken from death to life. And so on.

In each case where such a holy day is celebrated, because God enters it — reveals Himself in it — natural time, which is still important to us, is now celebrated as something that He has transformed, as something new: “Behold I make all things new!”

And so the question: how indeed can we keep our Faith in the feastday, the holy day, without this understanding of time? Do we moderns arrogantly think we are beyond the natural “rhythm of time?” And have we forgotten that a holy day is something which God makes holy when He transforms this natural time into new time? In short, have we lost something that earlier believers held as “critical” to their lives? something they could almost intuit as central to their living?

If one can answer “yes” to any of these questions, we must then ask: What are we to do in order to re­establish the proper place of our Faith in the holy days? The first thing to do is truly to return to this root understanding of “time!” And here we enter our second dimension: our use of time.

The Orthodox Christian continually re-establishes that meaning by placing time with the rhythm of “Fast and Feast.” Before each feast there is a fast, a time which includes abstinence, prayer and almsgiving. What is the meaning of this Fast, this season of fasting?

Never have there been so many misunderstandings and abuses regarding the meaning of fasting, as “new spiritualities,” religious cults based on pop psychology, etc., abound. And yet, if we do not understand the true meaning, we cannot be led to a proper perspective of time leading up to the feast day — and therefore to our task of keeping our Faith in that holy day.

Basically, the purpose of a fast — and a fasting season — is to gain mastery over oneself. It is seeking to liberate oneself from those elements in our world which precisely seek to hold us in bondage: greed, revenge, gluttony, hate, gossip, etc. It is never only about “food,” as if God is pleased when we do not eat. It is never separated from prayer. It is also never about afflicting oneself with suffering and pain. Indeed, in the services of the Orthodox Church, we are reminded that “the devil also never eats!” And when we fast, the Gospel reminds us that we are “to anoint our head and wash our face, that our fast will not be seen by men, but by our Father who sees in secret” (Matthew 6:16-18). Food, of course, has always held its important place in the season of the fast because it is a first-line passion, a temptation, as everyone already knows, which truly does hold us “in bondage.” It takes us immediately to the point simply because we need food to live in this earthly life. Thus, abstinence relative to food is a veritable symbol of the more global task of liberation from dependence on this world, and its ways: eat, eat, eat; violence, violence, violence; consume, consume, consume, etc.!

These — and others like them —militate against our seeking a dimension of life beyond this earthly world. Indeed, we must seek to be free for something, but first we must struggle to be free from something: the earthly passions which seek to possess us.

And that’s the point! We fast not only as an end in itself, but as a means to an end: to enter fully and organically into a holy time with God, and for our present purposes, this means the use of time culminating at the holy day, the sacred feastday.

Therefore, this season of the fast — which leads to the feast — is never a time of “business as usual.” It is indeed a special time, one in which a struggle leads to a goal. It must, however, remain humble and never lead to judgmentalism or arrogance. In the seventh century, St. Dorotheos well-noted this truth: “When one fasts, thinking he is achieving something especially virtuous, he fasts foolishly, for he soon begins to criticize others and to consider himself something greater.” Or to use the words of the Great Apostle Paul in his Epistle to the Romans: “Let him who eats not despise him who abstains, and let him who abstains not judge him who eats for God has welcomed him. Who are you to judge the servant of another?” We see in this way that a fast, and a season of the fast, is never limited to the excesses which may come into our minds and mouths, but which also proceed out of our minds and mouths!

Another critical element which truly belongs to the season preparatory to the holy day is almsgiving. When almsgiving is combined with prayer and fasting, those in the Eastern Christian Tradition believe they are creating the best environment for keeping our Faith in the celebration of a Feastday.

Again, like prayer and fasting, “when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be in secret, and your Father, who sees in secret, will reward you” (Matthew 6:1-4). Such is the humility needed when almsgiving is practiced. St. John Chrysostom, a great fourth century presbyter and Bishop of the Church, says we simply cannot be saved without giving alms. He reminds us that the wealthy can come closer to God only to the degree that they are charitable. Like Chrysostom, St. Basil the Great is even more specific: A person who has two coats and two pairs of shoes while his neighbor has none, is a “thief.” We must wonder, of course, what this says about the excesses of commercialism which abound during this very same season of preparation for the holy days!

And yet, almsgiving during the preparatory time of the fast is merely reflecting God’s love: “If any one has all the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against that brother, how does God’s love abide in him?” (I John 3:17) Just as in a person’s stewardship for his or her parish, his or her community of Faith, if such giving is to be of any value, it must be a spiritual “offering of sacrifice.” One cannot merely give what is “left over” after all his own needs are satisfied; one must take from the essentials of his own life and offer it. Is this not the meaning of the poor widow in Luke’s Gospel?

Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came, and put in two copper coins, which make a penny. And Jesus called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all the rest: for they contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in of her essential living.”

And so, in attempting “to keep our Faith in the holidays (holy days),” understanding both the place of time and our use of time, is essential. Within the “rhythm of time,” natural to all of life, we cannot be passive. We must ourselves “struggle” during the preparatory time of fasting in order to truly arrive at a celebration of our Faith during the Feast Day. Remembering that any holy day is a day when God makes Himself known to us, a day when the doors are thrown open, allowing us to draw near to His presence —that is, precisely to enter into His Kingdom — the struggle on our part to get there is critical. For as Our Lord Himself said: “The Kingdom of God is taken by force.”

Father Joseph, pastor of St. Anthony Orthodox Church in Bergenfield, is the Director of Theological and Pastoral Education in the Archdiocese, and North American Chaplain of the Order of St. Ignatius of Antioch, located in Englewood, NJ.

Constantine The Great: Roman Emperor, Christian Saint, History's Turning Point

"Tell me the history of Christianity and I can tell you your theology." This is especially true with a controversial figure like Constantine. Where Roman Catholics present him as laying the foundation for the Papacy, Protestants see him as the one responsible for leading the early Church away from the simplicity of the pure gospel and turning it into an institutional Church. However, blaming Constantine for the fall of the Church is a double-edged sword that cuts in both directions. If Protestants accuse Constantine of tampering with the Church, how do they know that Constantine did not tamper with the Bible? The problem with the "fall of the Church" argument is that it opens the possibility of a radical discontinuity between present-day Christianity and the early Church.

This danger can be seen in one of today's most popular bestsellers, The DaVinci Code. In the middle of the book (Chapter 55) Sir Leigh Teabing gives Sophie Neveu a brief synopsis of the "history" of Christianity. In it he makes the following points about Constantine:

• Constantine was a lifelong pagan who was baptized against his will on his deathbed.
• Constantine made Christianity the official Roman religion solely for political gain.
• Christianity is a hybrid religion, the result of Constantine's fusing the pagan cult of Sol Invictus with Christianity.
• This blending can be seen in Constantine's changing the Christian day of worship from Saturday to Sunday.
• Under Constantine's influence, the Council of Nicea, by a small majority, turned a mortal prophet into the divine Son of God.
• Constantine ordered the making of the Bible that would reinforce the Council's decision to make Jesus the divine Son of God, and at the same time ordered the destruction of opposing documents.

Personally, I thought the book was a lot of fun to read, but as church history it was laughable. This is not a criticism of the author, as his bestseller is a work of fiction. The problem comes when people confuse fiction and nonfiction.

It is imperative that Christians, especially Orthodox Christians, have a firm grasp of their faith and of church history. Faith and history go together. We cannot separate church history from what we believe. The Orthodox understanding of truth is grounded in the Incarnation, the Son of God taking on human nature. Because the Son of God entered into human history, truth consists of more than a set of logically consistent concepts. Our faith is grounded in the historical figure Jesus of Nazareth, who asserted: I am the Truth. When Orthodoxy claims that the Christian Faith is the true faith, it is asserting that it is a real faith, based on historical events that actually happened. Because Christianity is grounded in reality, our salvation in Christ is a real salvation that has an impact on both the spiritual and physical realities.

Constantine the Great

Constantine was born at Naissus on February 27, 272 or 273, to Flavius Constantius and his wife Helena. Flavius Constantius was an army officer, and in 289 he divorced Constantine's mother to marry Theodora, the daughter of his commanding officer. Constantine embarked on his own military career, which took him all over the Roman Empire, from Palestine and Asia Minor to Britain, Spain, and Gaul. While crossing the Alps with his army, Constantine had a vision (or dream) of a cross of light shining in front of the sun and the words: In this sign conquer. Shortly after that vision, Constantine defeated his rival, Maxentius, captured Rome, and was acclaimed the next emperor.

History often turns upon certain pivotal events or individuals. Early Christianity faced two significant perils: one external—violent persecution by the Roman government, and one internal—the Arian heresy, which denied Christ's divinity. In a providential twist of events, God raised up an emperor who would play a key role in confronting each of these perils, becoming one of Christianity's greatest defenders. Constantine's rule precipitated an avalanche of events that radically altered the course of the history of Christianity.

External Danger—Persecution

Prior to Constantine's becoming emperor, the early Church was going through one of the fiercest and bloodiest of the persecutions by the Roman government, the Diocletian persecution. During this wave of persecution thousands of Christians lost their lives, churches were destroyed, and scriptures were burned. Then in 313, the situation reversed itself. Constantine (with his co-emperor Licinus) issued the famous Edict of Milan, declaring Christianity to be a legal religion. Christianity was not yet the official religion of the Empire—this would not happen until 380 under Emperor Theodosius. And Constantine's edict of toleration was not the first—Galerius had issued a similar edict in 311. But it marked a major turning point for the Roman government. With the Edict of Milan, the three-centuries-long era of persecution came to an end.

Contrary to popular belief, Constantine did not rescue Christianity from extinction. Even if he had not adopted the Christian cause, the majority of the Roman population was well on its way to becoming Christian. What Constantine did do was hasten the process of evangelizing the Roman Empire. Constantine's conversion marked the climax of a centuries-long process of evangelization that began in an obscure corner of the Roman Empire. For the first time, the entire structure of Roman civilization, from the emperor down to the lowliest slave, shared the Christian faith.

Internal Danger—Heresy

In the early fourth century, a theological controversy broke out that threatened to derail the Christian faith. Arius taught that the Son of God had a beginning and was a created being. The controversy threatened deeply to divide the Christian Church, and in so doing to imperil the unity of the Roman Empire. Concerned for the unity of the empire, Constantine wrote letters to Bishop Alexander and to Arius, urging them to make up their differences and forgive each other. When that failed, he convened an ecumenical council of the entire Church. Previously there had been regional and local synods, but this was the first worldwide gathering of bishops. Constantine aided this historic gathering by covering the travel expenses of bishops coming from the far-flung corners of the empire.

In order to repudiate the Arian heresy, the bishops inserted the word homoousios ("of the same essence") into the baptismal creed. By asserting that Christ was of the same essence as God the Father, the Council decisively affirmed the divinity of Christ. This was approved by an overwhelming majority of the Council (only three persons—including Arius—out of three hundred disagreed). Although Constantine may have suggested that homoousios be inserted into the creed, the word was not invented by him. Even Arius made use of it, albeit in his arguments against the divinity of Christ.

Although he presided over the council, it is an exaggeration to claim that Constantine controlled the direction of the Council of Nicea, as many Protestants argue. Many of the bishops present at the council were survivors of the Diocletian persecution and would have been more than willing to put their lives on the line for the gospel of Christ once more. Another weakness of the Protestant stereotype of Constantine is that it gives short shrift to the theological genius of Athanasius. Anyone who reads Athanasius' theological classic Against the Arians will see that it was Athanasius, not Constantine, who turned the tide against the Arian heresy. Also, the limitations of Constantine's ability to coerce the Church into doing his will can be seen in his earlier failure to resolve the Donatist controversy in 320. As W. H. C. Frend notes in The Rise of Christianity, "The lesson, however, had been learned. Never again did he seek to beat into submission a movement within the church."

Equal-to-the-Apostles

Constantine's legacy can be seen in Christianity's transformation from a private sect into a public church that encompassed the whole of society. He put it on an institutional footing, which enabled the Church to be the leading cultural force in the ancient world. The Christianization of Roman society can be seen as a partial fulfillment of Revelation 21:24: "The nations . . . shall walk in its [New Jerusalem] light, and the kings of the earth bring their glory and honor into it." The Church is the New Jerusalem—replacing the Jerusalem of the Old Testament—which brings spiritual enlightenment to the pagan nations throughout the Roman Empire. However, a balanced assessment of the historical evidence shows that, as much as Constantine may have contributed to the Christianization of the Roman Empire, he did not originate Holy Tradition as many Protestants believe.

Sunday as the day of worship. Although Sunday was made a public holiday, there is no evidence that it was Constantine who changed the Christians' day of worship from Saturday to Sunday. Two first-century documents—Didache 14.1 and Ignatius' Letter to the Magnesians 9.1—document the fact that Christians worshiped on a different day from the Jewish Sabbath. As emperor, Constantine transformed what was once the private practice of an illegal sect into a public holiday for all Romans.

Constantinople—the New Rome. With his decision to turn the sleepy village of Byzantinum into the Roman Empire's new capital city, Constantine laid the groundwork of what would become a major spiritual center, the Patriarchate of Constantinople. As the New Rome, Constantinople was intended to signal the Roman Empire's break with its pagan past and its embracing of Christianity. Under Constantine's orders, no pagan ceremonies were allowed in this city. While the original Rome and the Latin West entered into the Dark Ages, Constantinople thrived as a spiritual and political capital through the time of Columbus' voyage to America. Constantinople was also the springboard from which the missionary outreach to Russia would take place.

The Council of Nicea and the biblical canon. While Constantine played an important role at the First Ecumenical Council, there is no evidence that he had anything to do with deciding which books would go into the Bible. The Muratorian Canon (from the year 200) provides a list of New Testament documents that closely resembles the list found in today's Bible. Similar lists can be found in the writings of Origen (250) and Eusebius of Caesarea (300). It is true that Constantine ordered the burning of books by Arius, the anti-Christian philosopher Porphyry, the Novatians, the Marcionites, and others. But the fact remains that by the time Constantine became emperor, much of today's biblical canon was already in place.

Constantine a Saint?

Constantine died in 337. Shortly before his death, he was baptized by Eusebius of Nicomedia. Following his baptism, Constantine refused to wear the imperial purple and died wearing the white baptismal robe. He was buried in the Church of the Holy Apostles just days after he had dedicated it. The day of his death—May 21—is commemorated in the Orthodox Church as a major feast day.

Skepticism about the sincerity of Constantine's Christianity stems from a number of factors. Constantine did not openly repudiate the pagan gods, but tolerated pagan belief even as he began favoring the Christians. Another source lies in his execution of his son, Crispus, and his wife, Fausta, in 326, a year after the Council of Nicea. A third factor was Constantine's delaying of his baptism until just a few days before his death.

On closer examination, however, the basis for this skeptical attitude becomes problematic. Constantine's participation in the pagan rites most likely stemmed from his obligations as military and political leader. Regarding his execution of his son and wife, it is not clear what the reasons were. Unless the reasons for this drastic action are known, it is not fair to condemn Constantine. Also, modern evangelicalism may frown on deathbed conversions, but in the early Church such delaying of one’s baptism was not uncommon.

Constantine's conversion follows more closely the Orthodox understanding of salvation than the Protestant understanding. Where Protestants, especially evangelicals, tend to see salvation in terms of a one-time conversion experience, Orthodoxy sees salvation as a mystery and as a process that unfolds over time. While Constantine's personal faith may be a matter of debate, his historical contributions to the Church under his reign are undeniable. Frend writes, "The 'Age of the Fathers' would have been impossible without Constantine's conversion. The church's councils under the emperor's guidance became assemblies where the new, binding relationship with the Christian God, on which the safety of the empire depended, was established."

The Orthodox Church sees Constantine as the emperor who assisted the early Church in evangelizing the Roman Empire. For this reason it honors him as Saint Constantine Equal-to-the-Apostles.

Constantine and the Church

For Orthodoxy, Constantine represents an important link to the past. The persecuted underground Church and the official state Church are the same Church. Constantine played a key role in the historic transition from the former to the latter. For Orthodox Christianity, there is no "fall of the Church." The Orthodox Church believes that it stands in unbroken continuity with the Church of the first century.

There is a popular belief among evangelicals that the true Church was the underground Church, which refused to compromise with the worldly state Church, and that this true Church remained in hiding over the following centuries, leaving few records of its existence until it was rediscovered by the Protestants in the sixteenth century. The main problem with this belief is not only the absence of supporting evidence, but the presence of contrary evidence. Eusebius, in Books IV and V of his History of the Church, provides a chronological listing of bishops that goes back to the original apostles. Present-day Orthodox bishops and patriarchs are able to trace their spiritual and historical lineage back to the original apostles, something that Protestants cannot do.

Symphonia—The Harmony of Faith and Politics

Constantine's support for the early Church laid the foundation for the doctrine of symphonia—the ideal of political and religious leaders working in harmony to realize God's will here on earth. This ideal is rooted in the Lord's Prayer: "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Symphonia avoids two extremes: the separation of Church from State on the one hand, and the fusion of Church and State on the other. Despite his active participation in the Ecumenical Council, Constantine did not view himself as one of the bishops, but rather as "bishop of those outside." This ideal found concrete expression in the Byzantine Empire, which lasted for a thousand years. Under Constantine's rule began the transformation of Roman culture. Execution by crucifixion ceased, gladiatorial battles as punishment ended.

Symphonia has a number of important implications for Orthodox Christians. One is that the Church is called to pray for those in power, even if they are not Christians. For Orthodoxy, symphonia is the ideal situation, but not the only one. Christianity is not tied to any one particular political structure. Another implication is that there is no separation between the physical and the spiritual (belief in dualism is an early heresy). Orthodoxy is both a personal and a public faith. The Orthodox Church encourages good citizenship, public service along with philanthropy. Its preference for lay involvement in politics helps avoid the dangers of theocratic rule. It is expected that Orthodox Christians will bring the values of the Church into the political and social realms.

Venerating a Great Saint Today

The Orthodox Church today honors the memory of Constantine in several ways. Many Orthodox parishes are named after him. I attend Saints Constantine and Helen Greek Orthodox Cathedral of the Pacific. On Sunday mornings, soon after I enter the church, I see the icon of Christ sitting on the throne. I also see the icon of Constantine and his mother, Helen. Inside the church up in front I see Constantine and Helen on the icon screen. They are now part of the great cloud of witnesses cheering us on to finish the spiritual race (Hebrews 12). During the Sunday Liturgy, just before the scripture readings, the following troparion (hymn) is sung:

Your servant Constantine, O Lord and only Lover of Man,
Beheld the figure of the Cross in the heavens,
And like Paul, not having received his call from men,
But as an apostle among rulers set by Your hand over the royal city,
He preserved lasting peace through the prayers of the Theotokos.

The troparion celebrates God's sovereignty in human history: how God selected a pagan Roman soldier, converted him through a miraculous vision of the Cross, and made him emperor and one of the greatest evangelists in the history of Christianity.

Robert Arakaki has an M.A. in Church History from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. He recently earned a Ph.D. in political science from the University of Hawaii at Manoa.

Justice as Asceticism

by Maria Gwyn McDowell

Originally delivered as a part of St. Mary's Lenten Lecture Series 2004
St. Mary Orthodox Church, Cambridge, MA
Friday, March 12, 2004

Download/View the Full PDF Version

Justice as Asceticism: Part 1

I recently spent a week at Project Mexico, where fasting came up a number of times. It started with the effort to find food in the airport which did not contain meat, inspiring a few conversations about the idea of ‘travel mercies,’ the leniency granted to travelers who may not be able to find options which fulfill the fast. The conversation continued at the Orphanage. Due to government regulations imposed by the Mexican government, a certain amount of meat must be served each week at Orphanages. Our host made it clear to us that the primarily Catholic staff of the orphanage would do their best to make Lenten meals for us, but may at times forget, and for us to be gracious. He further pointed out that our presence in building a house was itself a fast, a ‘work of mercy.’

As we discussed the particulars of fasting, I learned, for the first time, that we are supposed to fast from animals which have a back bone. I heard this, thought for a moment, and realized that for the first 16 years of my Orthodox life, the only times my family kept this version of the Lenten fast were the days my mother made spaghetti with Clam Sauce, about the only way you could ever get a clam into me. We survived the rest of lent eating $1/pound whole Tuna that my mother would buy at the coast, fillet, and freeze until lent. Every member of my Russian Orthodox Church ate fish, it was our Lenten food. I had no idea that fish were eliminated from the fast because they have a backbone. I asked why the backbone was the issue, and the answer seems to be that animals without a backbone are a lower form of life. Ironic, given that the economy of Maine is sustained by this $15/pound form of ‘lower life.’

What struck me in these conversations was not the content, but the very fact that we were spending so much time talking about fasting. We pick apart the phrases ‘fast’ and ‘abstain,’ wondering if one means the type of food, the other the amount of food. We wonder whether on Sunday, as a day of Resurrection, we can break the fast, or do we just not abstain. Underlying all of this is a different conversation. What we are really discussing was not whether or not we should eat this or that, how much we should eat, when we should eat and when we should abstain. Rather, we are struggling with what fasting means for us today in a culture of abundant and varied food, where it is not beef or poultry that is the luxury, but those very forms of ‘lower life’ which we are permitted.

Fasting is not meaningless today. Kerry SanChirico pointed out in his talk last year, “Lenten Transformation,” that the money saved on meat both enables almsgiving and reminds us that most of the world survives without meat, not by choice, but by necessity: meat is expensive. Schmemann argues that fasting, the feeling of hunger, is a physical reminder that we ‘do not live by bread alone, but by every word that flows from the mouth of God.’ Fasting as practiced in the monasteries was in part intended to create more time. In certain monastic communities, the weekend fast specified uncooked rather than cooked vegetables. Why? The time saved by not cooking is spent in more prayer. In each of these examples, fasting is never intended as a goal in itself. Fasting is meant to lead to something more.

The question is, what more does this lead to? Fasting saves money, and makes us conscious of the ¾ (no longer 2/3) world which is malnourished; fasting reminds us of our dependence on God; fasting gives time for prayer. We do one thing, which leads to another. Hopefully. I say hopefully, because often fasting may lead us nowhere. I think our debates over various canons, traditions and customs can easily turn into a debate over exactly how much mint and cumin we tithe, without ever addressing the important question, what does fasting lead to?

Prayer, fasting and alms-giving, the three main characteristics of the ascetical life, are understood throughout the tradition of the Church as the means towards our transformation, as our participation in the process of becoming who we are, the image of God. Debates have raged over the centuries in the effort to specify the image of God in humanity. Short cutting all of these debates, and in agreement with particular strands of thought that run through a variety of our Church Fathers, I am going to summarize and say that the image of God in humanity is anything in us which is a reflection of our Creator. When we love, we express the image of God; when we are generous, when we are trustworthy, when we act with fidelity, when we are encouraging, when we are truthful, when we are servants. Notice that all of these require other people. We can only be the image of God in relationship with other people. You must love another person to be loving. You must serve another person to be a servant.

I think there is a real danger that our fasting, our prayer, and even our alms-giving, becomes self-serving. These elements become our own private discipline, focusing on our own inner change, our own ‘salvation’ which may or may not press us to become people of greater love. I have often heard the argument that these disciplines are social because we do them together. We fast together, supporting and encouraging one another to walk past that oddly appealing hot dog. Our time in church increases, adding in Wednesday liturgy as well as the Friday akathist. While the encouragement of the community is crucial to Lent, simply doing things together does not necessarily make us less self-focused, less individualistic. Lent can still be all about me.

This focus on ourselves, this focus on what is good for me, maybe my family, or perhaps (in a generous moment) I extend it to my group, ethnicity, nation, still has me and ‘mine’ at the center. The reality is that we live in a world and a culture that is particularly ‘me’ focused. We all know that, we all experience it. It is a genuine danger. Yet it is not a unique danger; it is not new with the advent of the ‘West.’ The ascetical life of the East, by which I mean the Orthodox East, can run the same danger. Time spent in fasting and prayer, the life of the desert, is often done alone. But if Mary of Egypt had never met Fr. Zossima, would we benefit from her wisdom? If the monks of the desert had not settled themselves at the edges of cities, would we even have the ‘sayings of the desert fathers and mothers’? It is only in the return to one another that whatever we have learned comes to fruition, enabling everyone to experience greater transformation, greater deification. By the return from the desert, the whole community is blessed, and thus the community can bless the world.

But let me complicate this further by pointing out that most of us are not called to a monastic life. We are not called to years of strict fasting and prayer. Monasticism is a calling, but it is not a calling given to everybody. Frankly, it is not a calling given to the vast majority of the members of the Church. Most of us are called to live embedded in this world, embedded in business and chaos, living lives as mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, workers, commuters, students…leaving the world is not an option.

Part 2, where the question is asked,

"So the question is, what does asceticism look like for us?".

Maria Gwyn McDowell is a Doctoral candidate in theological ethics at Boston College.  She has a Master of Divinity degree from Fuller Theological Seminary. She is a member of St. Mary Antiochian Orthodox Church in Cambridge, MA.

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The Date of Pascha

by Archbishop PETER

(Reprinted from: The Orthodox Church Newspaper, April-May 1994 )

There is among the Orthodox a very widespread belief that the Christian celebration of Easter must necessarily come after the Jewish Passover. This chronological order is considered imperative and bears a symbolic meaning, as it is believed to have been decreed by the First Ecumenical Council held at Nicea in 325. This belief is stated and reaffirmed in the 12th century by the Byzantine canonist Zonaras. Another famous canonist of the later Middle Ages, Matthew Blastaris, in summing up the opinions of his time on the Paschal question, included among the rules for determining the date of Easter that it must not coincide with the Jewish Passover. We find this also in the writing of the learned canonist of the present century, Nicodemus Milash.

Yet, not only is such a stipulation totally absent from the decision taken on the Paschal question at Nicea, but it is foreign and, in a sense, contrary to what was then decreed. How, then, has such an opinion taken shape through the centuries?

In the primitive Church, there was no need for computing the date of Easter independently of that of the Synagogue, by which the Passover was determined. The controversy that brought, toward the end of the second century, the Churches of Asia Minor and the Church of Rome into opposition did not concern this point. The matter in dispute was quite different: the Asians celebrated Easter on the 14th of the month Nisan, whatever the day of the week, while the other Christians waited until the following Sunday. But both parties based their Easter date on the Jewish computation of the Passover. This computation was questioned, however, soon after the Jews changed their mode of calculating their Passover, no longer taking the vernal equinox into account.

The Bible did, indeed, specify the time the Passover should be celebrated, but it made no express reference to the vernal equinox. However, since the prescribed offering consisted of the first fruits of the harvest, a celebration prior to that time would have been inconceivable. But this empirical criterion, relative as it is to the climate conditions of that area, could hardly be preserved once the Jews lost their geographical proximity to Palestine as a result of the Roman crushing of the Bar-Bakhba revolt (approximately 135 AD). A period of uncertainty followed, and then towards the end of the second century, the rabbis established a new system which disregarded the vernal equinox. With the new system, at least once every three years the Passover fell before the equinox.

Then, many Christians wondered why they should celebrate the commemoration of the Passion and Resurrection on the basis of a computation which was no longer the one used at the time of our Lord. They also began to realize that a double anomaly might issue, that is, the Christian Easter might have to be celebrated twice between two vernal equinoxes, or not at all. Thus, there might be years with two Easters and years with no Easter at all.

As early as the third century, then, the Christians began to devise their own calculations of the Easter date. A learned Alexandrian, Anatolius (later bishop of Laodicea in Syria), used for his Easter computation the nineteen-year cycle invented in 432 BC by the Athenian astronomer Meton. However, most Churches in the region of Antioch continued to follow the computation of the Synagogue in spite of the fact that the latter no longer took the equinox into account. This on occasion caused considerable differences in the date of Easter between the Antiochian churches and others; in contrast, variations among the latter were neither frequent nor notable.

These differences promoted the question of the date of Easter before the First General Council at Nicea. This venerable assembly did take a decision on this issue. But though there have been references to a decree (in Greek honos), there does not seem to have been issued a written text of it. Thus, the document to which reference is often made is in fact a compilation of a number of authentic data. According to this kind evidence, we are able to reconstruct the decision of the first General Council on the question of Easter follows:

• Easter must necessarily be celebrated on the same Sunday by all churches
• this Sunday must be the first after the full moon following the vernal equinox
• the Churches that follow the Jewish calculation must abandon it and conform with the general usage

However, there was some resistance to that decision which necessitated new injunctions: the First Canon of the Council of Antioch (around 330 AD), and the Seventh Apostolic Canon (second half of the fourth century). These canons condemned those who celebrated Easter "with the Jews." This did not mean, however, that the dissidents were celebrating Easter on the same day as the Jews; rather, that they were celebrating on a date calculated according to the synagogal computations.

There is clear evidence that it was not a chance coincidence to which the canons referred. Indeed, on several occasions during the fourth century, after the Council of Nicea, the Jewish Passover and the Easter of most Christian churches accidentally occurred on the same day, but nobody was in the least perturbed. Besides, on account of the ever-increasing time delay brought about by the inaccuracies of the Jewish calendar, any chance of coincidence between the Christian Easter and the Jewish Passover disappeared.

As a result, the real cause that had prompted the decision of the First Ecumenical Council came to be forgotten. The belief gradually grew that the phrase "with the Jews" was to be understood literally and that the Holy Fathers at Nicea had decreed that the Christian Easter must not, even accidentally, occur on the same day as the Passover; rather, it must be celebrated later. As a matter of fact, however, such an interpretation was not only inaccurate but contrary to the spirit of what was decreed at Nicea, considering that acceptance of this interpretation necessitates a chronological relationship between the Christian Easter and the Jewish Passover, the very undesirable connection the Great Council sought to abolish.

Archbishop PETER is the bishop of Diocese of New York and New Jersey of the Orthodox Church in America.

This article appeared first in The Orthodox Church newspaper, April/May 1994.
It has also appeared in Solia.