In the first week of August, 2014, third-year seminarian Ian Abodeely attended the biennial, pan-Orthodox conference of theWestern Rite Vicariate of the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America(AOCANA). The Vicariateoversees parishes and missions within the Archdiocese that worship according to traditional Western Christian liturgical forms. Ian recorded these reflections at the close of the conference.
I was the house organist and music coordinator for the conference. I had the responsibility of organizing and leading the music for all of the services, including providing preludes and postludes. We had the organ works of Bach, Dupre, Vaughn Williams, Charpentier, Purcell, Byrd, and others. The services were sung using the traditional Gregorian modes.
We sat "in choir" and chanted the psalms antiphonally during the Daily Office, and experienced the waves of chant that it produces. This manner of prayer is so calming and centering that I often wish we did something similar in the Byzantine Rite.
We had Lauds, followed by Mass every morning and Vespers in the evening. We alternated the two rites used in the Vicariate: the St. Gregory (Roman Rite) and the St. Tikhon Rite (English Use). So some mornings we had Lauds, others we had Morning Prayer. Some evenings we had Vespers, and others we had Evensong. But all of our days were rooted in the celebration of the Mass. Our first full day was the Feast of the Transfiguration which we celebrated with a Solemn High Mass, with Bishop John Abdalah (Alumnus '84) presiding from the throne. The light and wonder of the feast certainly flowed through the entirety of the conference and made our time of fellowship and prayer that much richer. The conference had many wonderful speakers, including our own Fr. Chad Hatfield, who spoke on the ascetical tradition of the Church as a way of evangelism.
I was born and raised in the Antiochian Archdiocese, attending a Byzantine Rite parish. I fell in love with Byzantine Chant at an early age, and with my musical training as an organist I had a deep appreciation for the sacred music of the West. It wasn't until college that I became acquainted with the Western Rite of our Archdiocese, under the tutelage of The Very. Rev. Edward Hughes (Alumnus '80), who had been appointed Vicar General of the Western Rite Vicariate, in addition to serving as pastor of my home parish. I had always been interested in the liturgy and liturgical practice, so this was a great opportunity to put together my musical training and my love for the Liturgy.
My appointment as organist and choir director at St. Stephen Orthodox Church in Springfield, MA in 2009 provided another opportunity for study and entering more deeply into the liturgical life of the Western Rite. It was there that I learned to pray in a new way, one that encourages silence not just in one's private prayers, but in the liturgy itself. It was very difficult at first, but over time I've grown to love and treasure the Western Rite.
Many people are confused as to why a "cradle" like me would be involved with the Western Rite, and I don't really have an answer as to what drew me to it, but I have seen the Holy Spirit at work in these parishes, and I believe God has restored to the Orthodox Church a rite that is most important to our evangelism. It has been said that the Western Rite forces us to think about what being Orthodox really means, and helps us remember that it is faith in Jesus Christ and the teachings of his Church that unite us, not just the liturgy of St. John Chrysostom.
I can only encourage all Orthodox Christians to "come and see" and experience the Western Rite for themselves. It took me a while to get used to praying in a different way, so I'd encourage more than one visit. It is so different from our Byzantine Rite that it does take time to get used to and to enter into, but it is so very worth the effort.
Father Philip is Professor of Christian Ethics here at St. Vladimir’s, and a member of the Board of Trustees. He also is Professor of Religion and Director of the Honors Program at McMurry University in Abilene, Texas, and the pastor of St. Luke’s Orthodox Church. Father Philip is the author of several books in the area of moral theology, most recently, The Forgotten Faith: Ancient Insights for Contemporary Believers from Eastern Christianity (Cascade Books 2013). He has been an invited participant at recent international Orthodox consultations on peace ethics in Greece, Romania, and Syria. A graduate of Baylor University and Rice University, he holds a Ph.D. in Christian Theology and Ethics from Duke University and an M.A. in Applied Orthodox Theology from the University of Balamand.
John 5:1-15 (Gospel)
1 After this there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 2 Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, which is called in Hebrew, Bethesda, having five porches. 3 In these lay a great multitude of sick people, blind, lame, paralyzed, waiting for the moving of the water. 4 For an angel went down at a certain time into the pool and stirred up the water; then whoever stepped in first, after the stirring of the water, was made well of whatever disease he had.
5 Now a certain man was there who had an infirmity thirty-eight years. 6 When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he already had been in that condition a long time, He said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” 7 The sick man answered Him, “Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; but while I am coming, another steps down before me.” 8 Jesus said to him, “Rise, take up your bed and walk.” 9 And immediately the man was made well, took up his bed, and walked. And that day was the Sabbath.
10 The Jews therefore said to him who was cured, “It is the Sabbath; it is not lawful for you to carry your bed.” 11 He answered them, “He who made me well said to me, ‘Take up your bed and walk.’” 12 Then they asked him, “Who is the Man who said to you, ‘Take up your bed and walk’?” 13 But the one who was healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had withdrawn, a multitude being in that place.
14 Afterward Jesus found him in the temple, and said to him, “See, you have been made well. Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you.” 15 The man departed and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well.
Christ is risen!
We do not like to be dragged down or held back by problems that we cannot solve. Whether it is our own health, a broken relationship with others, or a complex set of circumstances over which we have little control, it is very frustrating to know our weakness before seemingly insurmountable challenges.
That is surely how the invalids, blind, lame, and paralyzed felt as they waited for the chance to be healed by being the first to reach the pool of water troubled by the angel. Due to their illnesses, many must have despaired over ever being healed. The man who had been paralyzed for 38 years was one of those, for there was no one to help him move toward the water. Here we have an image of humanity before the coming of Christ. The Jews had a Temple in which animals were sacrificed, and the pool provided water for washing lambs before they were offered to God. This scene occurs at the Jewish feast of Pentecost, which commemorated Moses receiving the Law, which was given by angels.
Fallen humanity, however, remained spiritually weak and sick. They lacked the strength to fulfill God’s requirements, and certainly could not conquer death, the wages of sin for all those who have fallen short of the glory of God. The sacrificial system of the Temple foreshadowed the great Self-Offering of our Lord on the Cross, but did not heal anyone from the ravages of spiritual corruption or raise anyone from the grave. It was a great blessing for the Jews to have the Law, but surely also a tremendous frustration not to have the strength to obey it fully. Only Christ Himself fulfilled the Law, which is why He can call and empower us to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect. (Matt. 5:48)
In contrast, the paralyzed man represents all who lack the power to move themselves to complete healing, to find the fulfillment of our common human calling to become like God in holiness. Notice that he did not call out to Christ to help him; instead, the Lord reached out to him, asking “Do you want to be healed?” That may seem like a strange question, for presumably anyone waiting by a pool for healing after 38 years of illness would want to be made well. But think for a moment about how we have all learned to adapt to our favorite sins, how we have become comfortable with whatever forms of corruption have become second nature to us over the years. By virtue of coming to Church, we are apparently religious people, but that does not mean that we truly want to be healed. For to be healed means obeying the Lord’s command to this fellow: “Rise, take up your pallet, and walk.” It requires making the effort to rise up in obedience, to be transformed personally in how we live each day, and to grow in holiness.
It would not have sufficed for that man to have remained on his bed and have warm feelings about how Christ had healed him. Just as anyone who lies motionless for a long time will become weak and unable to rise up and walk on his own power, the same will be true of us spiritually if we try to rest content with simply believing ideas about God or having positive emotions about Him. If we are not gaining strength by actually serving Him faithfully, we will become paralyzed and unable to cooperate with our Lord’s gracious healing energies. Any spiritual health that we claim in that state will be a figment of our imagination.
The good news is that the Lord does not simply provide us with a set of rules to follow or services to perform. He makes us participants in Himself by grace. He unites us to Himself, raising us up with Him from slavery to sin and death to the great dignity of those who share in His eternal life. The Savior makes us members of His own Body, the Church. He is the Bridegroom and we are the Bride. He makes us radiant in holiness, like an iron left in the fire of the divine glory. That is how He heals us such that we have the strength to obey His command to get up from our bed of corruption and move forward in a blessed life of holiness.
Though we may not yet have the eyes to see it, this healing and strengthening of our humanity happens to this day through our life in the Church. In our reading from Acts [9:32–42], St. Peter heals a paralyzed man and commands him to get up. He even raises a woman from death. Peter did not do this by his own power or authority, but because the Lord was working through him. He said to the paralyzed man, “Jesus Christ heals you…” Throughout Acts, we read of how the Lord works through His Body, the Church, to enable people to participate personally in the new life of the resurrection that He shares with us by grace.
That is not, however, a life of merely having our names on a church membership roll or of calling ourselves Orthodox Christians. If our faithfulness extends only that far, we will become as weak as a person who remains immobile in bed and refuses to stand up and walk. We must not be like those poor souls waiting by the pool for someone else to move them into the healing water. On His own gracious initiative, Jesus Christ has given each of us the strength to overcome the paralysis of sin through His resurrection. He does not simply give us commands; He gives us Himself. And our life in His Body, the Church, is truly our participation in Him.
We receive His healing of our souls when we humbly repent of our sins in Confession. We are nourished for the life of the Kingdom by His Body and Blood in Holy Communion. When we offer our time, energy, and resources to support the ministries of the Church, we rise up from selfishness to participate in the abundant generosity of the Lord. When we stop thinking of ourselves as isolated individuals and instead as members of a Body with a common life in Christ, we will be able to love and serve one another in ways that will open us to His strength personally and collectively in powerful ways.
In the joy of the resurrection, we must learn to see that embracing our life together in Christ is an essential dimension of obeying His command to “Rise, take up your pallet, and walk.” He calls each of us to turn away from the paralyzing weakness of selfishness and laziness that would make whatever sins we have become comfortable with appear more important than serving Him in His Body, the Church, where the glory and power of the resurrection are fully present.
Think about that for a moment. Pascha is not an isolated event that happened long ago, but an entrance into the new day of the Kingdom of Heaven, which is fully open to us in the worship and common life of this parish. The Savior calls each of us, weakened and held back by the corruptions of sin, to get up and move forward in the blessed life for which He made us in His image and likeness. That is why He died and rose again, to raise us up with Him for a life of holiness, to restore us to the ancient dignity of Paradise.
May this season of Pascha be our entrance as a parish into the joy of the Kingdom. That will happen when we rise up, from whatever corruptions are holding us back, to a life of obedience in serving Him and one another in His Body, the Church. That is the only way to answer the question that He asks each of us today and every day: “Do you want to be healed?”
As the end of the semester is swiftly approaching, my brain is in that all too familiar state of neuron-explosion as it tries to process the immense transformation that has taken place within me over my past year at school. You are well aware, reader, that the practice of self-analysis is simultaneously terrifying and rejuvenating. And for me as a student, it comes like clockwork: the cautious start to the fall semester, the excitement of pumpkin spice in everything, the slow motion descent into chill and snow, the long breath of winter break, the enthusiastic promise to not procrastinate in the spring semester, the quiet sobs of actualized procrastination, the compulsion to point out the sun and the air and the flowers, and then, Bam! "May-nalysis," as I like to call it. It is the keen awareness of just how different your now-self is from your one-year-ago-self.
This year's "May-nalysis" has been quite the reflection.Since I am a student at both St. Nersess Armenian Seminary and St. Vladimir's, I am delicately perched between two vibrant institutions that offer unique perspectives into the realm of Orthodoxy. At the beginning of the year, I was vastly unprepared for the whiplash induced by the academic, social, and spiritual seesaw between the two schools. A short commute that gets mind-numbingly old when made four to six times a day? Paper and project due dates colliding? Community service at both schools? And what did you just say about Chalcedon?!
I craved stability and uniformity and thus clung to the familiarity of my Armenian family, even though I lived at St. Vladimir's and had a solid network of friends forming through classes. Eventually, my stubborn desire to be in control sent my stress levels to unprecedented heights, and I knew that I would have to change my attitude if I wanted to truly honor the blessing of be able to attend seminary.
I soon found great joy in letting go of my frustrations and allowing God to work within me and through me at both schools. For those of you who know me, you know that my love of meeting new people and forming new friendships is as obvious as my sound-barrier-breaking laugh. I found I had to break out of my Oriental Orthodox "shell" and find the confidence to engage with my St. Vladimir's family in real and vulnerable ways. In the midst of the undertaking of rediscovering and embracing my Armenian inheritance and faith, I had to also awaken to the reality that I vary with my new Eastern brothers and sisters. Rather than shrink back from these dissimilarities of expression, however, I let them teach me a wonderful lesson. I realized that the differences in our traditions should not cause us to shy away in misunderstanding; like the discrepancies in the synoptic Gospels that, rather than confuse or anger us, draw us deeper into the story of the Cross, so must the differences in our traditions invite us to go deeper, to learn deeper, and to love deeper.
I have since broken bread, shared notes, and watched movies with my classmates. I have attended morning services at the Three Hierarchs Chapel and exposed myself to a world of four-part-harmony elation. I have said a full five words in Fr. John Behr's class and did not, in fact, overheat from timidity! Over all of the cups of tea, over all of the walks to class, over all of the conversations at mealtimes, I have tied myself irrevocably to the people with whom I learn alongside. My waking and sleeping, my living and breathing, my giving and taking: it has become a daily ecumenism. Our churches hardly need to call a council of ecumenists—we have our own in the classroom, in the refectory, and in the dorms! I would not trade the experiences—the good, the bad, and the awkward—that I've had with my St. Vladimir's family for anything, for they have taught me precious lessons about the grace and communion of God.
As with all great challenges, there comes opportunity for great growth. I thank the Lord with all my heart for seeing the bigger picture when I cannot, and for gently, yet firmly, nudging me along in the direction of discovery, development, and wholeness.
Kathryn Ashbahian is in her first year of the Master of Arts program at St. Vladimir's Seminary and St. Nersess Armenian Seminary. She looks forward to working with the youth and young adults of the Armenian Church and sharing with them everything she has learned about the way Armenians beautifully express their theology. When she is not reading and writing for her classes, you can find her hammocking, handwriting letters, or having a good chuckle with friends.
As a proud Texan, it is more than a little ironic that my daughter has a New York birth certificate. Having spent all of our married life in Texas, my wife and I would have gladly welcomed our daughter before we moved to New York to attend seminary. However, as God would have it and for reasons unknown to us, we had to wait for this particular blessing until we left home. A friend of mine once remarked that the most important things in life are often those things we have little or no control over. That is a hard lesson to learn especially when what we want seems to be good and selfless. Yet, God wanted us to wait, so wait we did. And now, having moved to New York to attend seminary, we have been blessed with a determined and cheerful daughter.
Having a daughter has prompted some reflection regarding my vocation. "Vocation" is a word often associated with seminary. If I remember correctly, in an admissions essay, I wrote that I wanted to attend seminary to "explore the priestly vocation." I am not sure if I am any more certain of what that phrase means now than I did when I wrote it! Rather, I chose to attend seminary because I'd already made up my mind that if I was extended the grace of ordination, I would not refuse it.
This is the only way it works. A person chooses to be baptized into Christ without really knowing what that will mean in his life, day to day. We accept the responsibility of following Christ (no easy task!) and believe God will provide the grace to ensure it happens. I had accepted the vocation of "father" when I married my wife. All we needed was God to grace our love and marriage with one of the profound blessings of marital union, that of bringing new life into the world. I had no idea how to be a dad seven years ago when I married my wife, but now that I have a daughter the learning curve has been steep! Slowly, at times painfully, I am becoming conformed to this vocation. By God's grace, hopefully I'll have it down by the time my daughter is an adult.
My darling baby girl has taught me the "already-not-yet" nature of following Christ. I am already her father, but at times not yet ready to be her father. I fail miserably and hope she is able to forget at least a portion of my shortcomings. Similarly, by virtue of the grace of my baptism, I am a Christian. Yet, I fail miserably and am not worthy to bear the name that is above all names. I am already, and not yet, a true Christian. In this way, God's blessings meet us where we are and then propel us forward, to a place closer and more intensely connected with His activity in this world—activities such as raising children to know, love, and depend upon Him.
A priest on campus always calls me "dad." This is a daily reminder that God not only chooses which blessing to give but the timing of the blessing as well. The moniker "dad" reminds me that God has a plan for me, and He will give me the grace that matches the gift and the challenges that come with it. I accept this vocation and the abiding grace that comes with it even though I am still working out the details. Now, if I could just do something about that birth certificate!
Joshua Trant is in his second year of the Masters of Divinity program at St. Vladimir's Seminary. Joshua and his wife, Heather, welcomed their daughter, Tabitha, last August. Being a native Texan, Joshua sometimes wonders how New Yorkers have survived so long without decent BBQ brisket.
Psalm 133:1 - "Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!"
As Orthodox Christians, we work out our salvation in community, rather than alone. Each interaction provides a moment of truth demonstrating our faith in praxis. It is within community, as our dean The Rev. Dr. John Behr states, that our rough edges are smoothed out and where we learn how to live in His image. St. Vladmir's offers a unique community experience that starts at Crestwood and reaches way beyond.
The community is set in a rather unique place. Even though my wife and I lived relatively close to Crestwood, NY prior to moving on campus, we felt like we lived in a whole new world when we arrived. While we are literally minutes away from New York City, you would never know as you sit in front of the koi pond behind the Rangos building. The journeys that I take by foot, whether by sun or snow, from campus to chapel and then up the hill back to our Lakeside apartment, offer opportunities to reflect and meditate on the various lessons learned throughout the day.
These lessons are not learned merely in the classroom but also with random interactions I have with my classmates, families, faculty and staff. While the majority of individuals at St. Vladimir's are Orthodox, it is safe to say that no two people are the same. Everyone brings their own story, experience and insights to this community. In physics, when two objects collide, energy can be transferred from both objects. My interactions with this community are quite the same. Each of my encounters with people here have had at least a small impact on my formation as a Christian. It is our diversity that offers opportunity to learn and to grow.
Just outside of the boundaries of SVOTS are a plethora of welcoming Orthodox communities as well. Within a 30-minute car ride, one could find a parish from almost anyEastern or Oriental Orthodox jurisdiction. One particular parish,Holy Trinity Orthodox Church in Yonkers (OCA), opens its doors every week to allow seminarians to get together and play basketball in fellowship. The experiences not only allow us to get to know each other but the members of the parish as well. In addition, we also have access to various Orthodox conferences, likethe ONE conference, where young Orthodox Christians come together in unity and fellowship. Each one of these experiences offers a unique opportunity to meet other Orthodox Christian and expand my network of believers in Christ.
Coming to SVOTS and being immersed in this new community was indeed a completely new way of life for us. Though I do not have as much time as I would like to engage with my community because of the heavy workload, this community is the place we call home. If home is where the heart is, then I am fortunate that it is this place where my heart is being shaped, as I prepare for the ministry that God has for me.
The Rev. Dn. Shiryl Mathai is currently a first year Master of Divinity candidate at SVOTS from theMalankara Archdiocese of the Syriac Orthodox Church in North America. Deacon Shiryl has over six years of youth ministerial experience at the parish, regional and archdiocesan levels. Prior to coming to seminary, he earned a Master of Public Health from Drexel University and a Master of Business Administration from Rutgers Business School. He has over ten years of experience in health care, both in hospital and pharmaceutical settings.
Deacon Shiryl's current educational interests include pastoral theology and when he is not serving the church, he loves spending his free time singing karaoke, playing basketball, and following all things related to Philadelphia sports teams. His lovely wife Asha is a well-accomplished speaker and leader with Toastmasters International, and a project manager at Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers (IEEE).
Second-year seminarian Fr. Gabreil Alemayehu was recently ordained in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and is a member of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. In January 2014, he participated in the Festival of Young Preachers in Indianapolis, IN, along with his mentor The Rev. Dr. Sergius Halvorsen, professor of Homiletics and Rhetoric. (View Fr. Gabreil's Festival homily on YouTube.)
It was my great surprise to meet another person wearing a cassock after delivering my sermon at the 2011 Academy of Preachers' Festival of Young Preachers. It was at this Festival that I was introduced to Fr. Sergius Halvorsen. Who knew that he would be my mentor when I went to preach at the 2014 Festival of Young Preachers, which was hosted by the Academy of Preachers in January 2–4, 2014 in Indianapolis, IN? During that festival, over 110 Christian preachers of different traditions meditated on the questions of the soul. Amongst these preachers, Brian Cheney, Andrew Boyd (SVOTS '12), Fr. Lucas Rice (SVOTS '11), and I represented the Orthodox tradition.
With the guidance of Fr. Sergius, I preached from Exodus 4:1, the text where God asks Moses, "What is that in your hand?" In my sermon, I explored how we must recognize what God has bestowed upon us and offer it back to God. After recognizing what he had in his hand, Moses offered up his staff and through it was able to fulfill the task given to him by God. Later, what Moses held in his hand was used to raise up the serpent that healed the cursed children of Israel. Like Moses, We should also use what we have in our hands to raise up the real cure of our souls, Jesus Christ. Events like the Festival of Young Preachers are what encourage young people to offer up to God whatever they have in their hands.
During one morning session at the festival, we heard Dr. Frank Thomas, a professor at Christian Theological Seminary, preach a sermon titled, "A Basin, Water Pitcher, and a Towel" in which he reminded young preachers to embody the humility of Christ who grabbed a basin, water pitcher, and towel as a servant to wash the feet of His disciples. Another night, we heard Fr. Lucas Rice, an alumnus of St. Vladimir's, who preached about the power of Christ to transform the weaknesses in our lives.
Not only did the Festival allow us young preachers to preach and to listen to other preachers, it also allowed us to develop our preaching skills by attending different workshops organized throughout the event. One of these workshops, titled "Sacramental Preaching," was led by our own Fr. Sergius Halvorsen, who, using an icon, illustrated the effectiveness of using images in preaching and presented some rhetorical devices useful in effective preaching.
It was a wonderful experience to learn about the tradition of others, especially the different forms of preaching that exist among Christians of different traditions. At the festival no two presenters were alike. The event illustrated the significance of preaching the Good News of Jesus Christ and the beauty found in the different traditions. I am glad I had the chance to participate!
I am on the road to becoming a hospital chaplain. I started attending SVOTS eight years ago as a half time student. My youngest child was ten, my husband no longer required my help in his business ; I wanted to go back to school. I am the manager of my church's bookstore and my love of books made me curious about the courses at SVOTS. I heard Fr. John Erickson, Dean of the Seminary at the time, speak inspiringly that the mission of SVOTS was to educate lay leadership for the church as well as clergy and I applied to seminary. At my SVOTS interview it was suggested by Dr. Rossi that I consider the Masters of Divinity program. He warned that I would have to take Greek. My response was "bring it on, I'm ready!" I enjoyed Greek, but what really made a deep impression on me was the mandatory experience of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), the training for hospital chaplaincy. It's more challenging than Greek.
CPE is a unique combination of classes, individual mentoring, visits to patients, and growth within a peer group. The supervisor and six students meet regularly to share verbatims, actual conversations between a student and patient (whose name is not disclosed). The verbatim reveals much about the state of the patient, emotionally and spiritually, as well as the CPE student. It is a great arena for strengthening one's faith as well as seeing and discarding unnecessary personal baggage. (Read about CPE.)
I looked forward to the group work we did in CPE but not the hospital visits. This is ironic as I am a registered nurse. I had not worked much in an acute hospital setting and I did not relish the idea of being with very ill patients in rooms with noisy, futuristic medical equipment. Neither illness nor complicated machines are on the list of my favorite things. But Fr. Stephen Belonick, Dean of Students at that time, encouraged me to embrace chaplaincy, saying it was like diving into the water, taking the plunge with God's help. In retrospect this is amusing, since diving is at the top of the list of my least favorite things.
That first year I found my niche working with psychiatric patients, alcoholics and addicts. Then, for a while, I had second thoughts about chaplaincy, and explored the option of a combined social work/Mdiv degree. However, through God's grace, an event happened that guided me to my calling as a chaplain. The hospital five minutes from my house hired its first CPE supervisor. That meant that instead of my having to commute an hour to Yonkers, New Haven, or Hartford three days a week (in addition to SVOTS classes) I could train within my community. The new supervisor had thirty years of experience and was well aware of SVOTS, having had an SVOTS alumnus as his student.
I love CPE at Danbury Hospital. It is constantly a challenge and very fulfilling. I have had the opportunity to work in the intensive care unit, on the behavioral health unit, and in the emergency room as well as regular hospital floors. I have patients who are having minor surgery and patients who are dying. The training I have had through CPE in listening to and being present for the patient (setting aside my own agenda), along with inviting patients to talk about and explore their relationship with God has allowed me to experience many blessings during my visits. Praying for, and with, patients has been a great joy. My education at SVOTS has given me a strong foundation in my Orthodox faith from which I can reach out to Christians and non-Christians alike. In particular, my study of Old and New Testament has grounded me. It has helped my prayer life so that I can be a silent, prayerful, witness. All this has born fruit. While training at Danbury Hospital I was hired as the on call chaplain for evenings, weekends and nights for all non Roman Catholic patients. Currently there is a proposal submitted by the Spiritual Care department to hire me half time starting in July. At that time I will seek to be commissioned by the OCA as an Orthodox hospital chaplain. All this because I like books! Glory to God who sees what we cannot, who knows the needs of all His children!
Beryl Knudsen lives in Danbury CT. She was raised in an observant Jewish home, converted to Christianity at the age of 24, and became Orthodox at age 32.. When not studying at SVOTS or at Danbury Hospital she can be found at home with her husband Joseph, her twenty three year old daughter, Joanna, her eighteen year old daughter, Elizabeth, and almost four year old grandson Gabriel (plus two ferrets and a cat). She is a member of Saints Peter and Paul Orthodox Church in Bethel CT, a mission of the OCA. She likes road trips and has fully taken advantage of her daughter's college search to "get out of Dodge" and enjoy a change of scenery.
I always thought that studying theology abroad would be a good way to understand faith from a different perspective than the one in which I was raised. Yet I had no way of knowing that God would fulfill this desire by leading me to St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary, a place thousands of miles from Romania.Growing up in a predominantly Orthodox country like Romania, you are surrounded by tradition and likely to have the blessing of growing up as an Orthodox Christian, but it can be difficult not to take the Faith for granted. I thought that studying Orthodoxy in a place where it is not as common as it is in Romania could strengthen me and make me appreciate even more the Faith with which God has blessed me. Looking back on my journey from Romania to St. Vladimir’s, I can see how God has been working in my life to make all of this possible.
My American journey started with a phone call from a music professor whom I knew from my seminary in Bucharest. He called me hoping I could help him find theological students who were willing to be part of a choir to participate in the World Choir Games in Cincinnati, Ohio. He invited me to join the choir, and in July 2012, after six months of hard work, our choir arrived in the United States. For most of us, this was our first trip here. With the help of Fr. Daniel Ene, the secretary of the Romanian Archdiocese in the Americas, we were able to visit the Romanian parishes on the East Coast. After visiting the parishes in Philadelphia, Rochester, and Chicago, we finally stopped at St. Nicholas Romanian Orthodox Church in New York.
Father Ene told me how he had come to the United States, and how he had been accepted into the Masters program at St. Vladimir’s. I was fascinated to hear about this renowned Orthodox theological institute. To be accepted here seemed something very hard for me to accomplish, but I put everything in the hands of God.
About two months after returning to Romania, my path to St. Vladimir’s began to unfold. Father Ene informed me that there was a possibility of my being accepted as a student, since a new partnership was forming between St. Vladimir’s and the Orthodox Theological Faculty in Bucharest, where I was a student. In the spring of 2013, Fr. John Behr would visit Bucharest to sign this partnership, enabling Romanian seminarians to be accepted at St. Vladimir’s. What wonderful news!
Another obstacle remained: how to fund my study? Whatever financial aid I might receive from St. Vladimir’s, the remaining amount would still be difficult to cover. Again, God provided. While I was still dreaming of how I might study in the United States, I received a phone call from one of the parishioners at St. Nicholas Church, where I had visited the previous year. Without even knowing about my desire to study at St. Vladimir’s, he asked me to come to the United States to be the singer for his parish. The parish in New York, St. Nicholas Romanian Orthodox Church, agreed to sponsor my tuition in exchange for my service as a singer. Thus, God solved my financial problem.
Looking back, I realize that everything has happened according to God’s plan. As the Psalmist says:“How many are your works, O LORD! In wisdom you made them all”(Psalms 14:24).
Now, I find myself halfway through the first year of the Masters program at St. Vladimir’s, and I praise God for guiding me onto this path in His goodness and wisdom. As Fr. John Behr often reminds us, it is only retrospectively that we can see how God has been working in our lives. I give glory to God as I reflect on how He has cared for me all this time.
I am a first year M.A. student from Bucharest, Romania. I have studied Theology for the past 11 years, beginning with the Orthodox Theological Seminary in Bucharest and continuing with the Faculty of Orthodox Theology of the Bucharest University. I also have a Masters Degree in Systematics. Before coming to the U.S. I was President of the Cantus Domini Choir, a Romanian choral group, which participated at the World Choir Games in Cincinnati, Ohio in 2012 and at the European Choir Games in Gratz, Austria in 2013. I am passionate about music and traveling, and am interested in meeting new people and making new friends. Also, being European, I like soccer!
Over the summer I had the wonderful privilege of working on a farm every day. My fiancé Jeremy manages a beautiful little farm just outside of Eugene, Oregon, where he grows all kinds of organic produce. After one year of seminary, it was a welcome change to engage in physical labor, to say the least. Above all it was refreshing to be in my home state, to work alongside my fiancé, and to be part of a different rhythm as the structure of seminary life made way for the demands of the growing season.
Since I have experience with farming, people often comment to me about how beautiful and peaceful it is, that farming must be God's work, that I must have so many spiritual metaphors to draw from the experience of farming. In many respects, they are right. Farmers get to cultivate land and plants, watch things grow, and spend constant time out of doors. Very few experiences have given me the sense of wonder at creation as much as watching a miniscule seed grow into a vegetable, both beautiful and nourishing. It is satisfying to feed ourselves and others with the literal fruit of our labors. There is so much to learn from this kind of work!
Yet I find myself wary of "spiritual metaphors," if only because it can be a great temptation to idealize farming. There certainly are metaphors to be had, and Christ Himself often employed images from agriculture in His teachings (and let me tell you, it is extremely hard to spend endless days pruning unruly tomatoes andnotmeditate upon John 15, where Christ says we must be pruned to be fruitful). It is, however, easy to underestimate the sheer amount of work involved in farming. Though beautiful, it is a very hard life, not just a pleasant day job (as someone quipped to me recently, "5 to 9 is not 9 to 5!"). Probably the one spiritual equivalent which has stood out to me is this: it is a heck of a lot of hard work. And you cannot stop. For a farm to work, you must tend it faithfully and constantly, and the fruit is rarely immediate. Sometimes a whole crop just fails. Disappointment and weariness can tempt you to throw in the spade, especially when you realize how little control you really have. I find prayer to be very similar. To pray and draw close to God is a constant, not a sometime, action; neither happens by itself, and "results" are not always apparent.
But it is rarely worth it to quit, in farming and certainly when it comes spiritual effort. Both farming and seminary have taught me this. The past year as a seminarian and a farmer, rich with blessings and struggles, has shown me the value of difficult work and persistence. Wherever I am or whatever I am doing—Oregon, New York, farm, or seminary—can be the means of deepening my trust in God and my courage to face life's difficulties.
~
Ashli Moore is in her second and final year of the Master of Arts program at St. Vladimir's Seminary. She is currently working on a thesis project, which is a model for an Orthodox Christian School that she hopes to implement in her home parish in Eugene, Oregon (pronounced "Orygun"). In her other life, however, she works on Excelsior Farm owned by her fiancé Jeremy, to whom she is getting married in July. A native of Portland (you may get Portlandia references out of your system at this time), Ashli misses many elements about the Northwest, especially its many tea houses, excellent second–hand clothing stores, and of course, the rain.
The beginning of an academic year is always exciting. We welcome new seminarians, we meet their families, and we begin new programs and new community assignments. Seniors consider what they will do once they graduate, while juniors learn how to manage their busy seminary lives.
The Academic Year 2013–14 is certainly shaping up to be a unique one. We are celebrating our 75th anniversary, we have inaugurated the first Father John Meyendorff Lecture, and we are getting ready to host the Fall 2013 Orthodox Inter–Seminary Movement (OISM) event. And this is only the beginning! We can look forward to many more exciting events throughout the year.
This year, we welcomed one of the largest incoming classes that St Vladimir's has seen in many years. We have 39 new seminarians joining 28 returning students. This incoming class is roughly three times the size of my class!
This new class is also diverse. The new students come from various jurisdictions and Churches, age groups, academic and working environments, and cultural backgrounds. The international component is also very significant; we have students from Egypt, India, Estonia, Russia, and Canada, among others. We can all benefit enormously from the different traditions present at St Vladimir's through a respectful and enriching conversation among the various expressions of faith in Jesus Christ.
Additionally, we are not only living as neighbors, but through our community assignments we are asked to serve each other. This requires patience and humility at times, but it is a priceless opportunity to learn from one another, support one another, and establish relationships which will last for the rest of our lives. I cannot think of a better or more practical way of forming people who are going to serve in pastoral ministry and church leadership.
We don't just look inward, however. As we often state, we take on the task to communicate Orthodox Christianity to the world, inviting all to partake of the fullness of the Faith. In accordance with this principle, the student body elects a Student Council which aims to strengthen student participation in campus life, but also encourages outreach beyond the seminary community through designated projects, charities, and causes.
As Student Council President, I work with five other seminarians who represent the students of the Th.M., M.Div. and M.A. programs. At our first general meeting, I emphasized the importance of the Council, since it's been an effective liaison between the Administration and the student body these last few years. I also noted that we will continue to encourage outreach ministry beyond the community. In the past year, great work has been accomplished thanks to the two student interest groups, the pro-life St. Ambrose Society and the St. Herman of Alaska Ecology Group. Several students are also in the process of forming an interest group to focus on cross–cultural missions.
The 2013-14 academic year will be busy and will require a lot of work from all of us. However, we approach it with excitement and joy. Glory to God for all things!
Sandro Margheritino is an M.Div. student at SVOTS from the Diocese of the Midwest (OCA). Born and raised in Palermo, Italy, he was raised in a Roman Catholic family and came to Orthodoxy at the age of 18, after which he majored in International Relations – Political Science at the University of Palermo.Sandro's wife Anna was born in Moscow, Russia, and she currently works as an iconographer.Sandro has served as short-term missionary in Albania and Kenya in the past two years. Deeply inspired by his Italian roots, he is passionate about food and cooking, art, traveling and, of course, espresso!
