A homily delivered in Three Hierarchs Chapel at St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary on Sunday, September 27, 2015.

Your soul covered the earth, and you filled it with proverbs and riddles. Sir 47.15

 

Proverbs and Riddles

I have to admit at the outset of my word today, that this gospel presents a passage I have struggled with.

The problem I have is that the text just seems so matter-of-fact, so straightforward: Jesus sits in a boat the Sea of Gennesaret, he teaches, calls the apostles, who are fishing, and they fish again and have an overwhelming catch. What is there to say? There are questions about why he goes on a boat to teach the people rather than from the shore where they are, but, at first glance, they seem more a curiosity than the stuff of a sermon.

Nevertheless, I will attempt anew to offer a word on this passage holding as a basic presupposition the word that the Apostle Paul spoke to Timothy, “All scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness (II Tim. 3.15).” Therefore, I will attempt to be like David, and “will incline my ear to a proverb; I will solve [the] riddle [of this passage] to the music of the Psalter (Ps. 49.4).”

Daily Life

What struck me first about this passage is the Lord’s involvement in the daily life, the daily work of the apostles. He meets them in the midst of their activity, their hard work. Fishing is not a glamorous profession: the fish, scales, guts, nets, the water, and boats all add up to backbreaking, hard, dirty work. But in the midst of this work, he comes and gets in their boat, teaches the people, and calls the apostles through the sign of an abundant catch of fish.

From workaday perspective, a basic paradigm emerged: Jesus comes to them even though they are not looking for him. He comes to them precisely when they are preoccupied with so many other things. Just like God looking for Adam and Eve in the Garden, or Jesus meeting the Samaritan Woman at the Well, or the disciples on the road to Emmaus on the first day of the New Creation, Jesus comes to them and reveals himself to Simon, James, and John.

We should consider this paradigm carefully and expect that our Lord meets us in our day-to-day lives, when we are not expecting it, when we are preoccupied with so many things. He meets us and calls us to follow him. And this perhaps is why we do not hear this call. We look for him on our own terms to confirm our lives, our needs, our wants, our desires—but he is coming and looking for us to follow after him. He is coming out of love for us and wants us to fall in love with him in the same way he loves us.

Note, too, that he does not make the disciples’ physical work, their livelihood, indeed their lives any easier; in fact, everything becomes more difficult with such a catch of fish and will become harder with the promise of a new type of fishing. Even so, they fulfilled their tasks obediently and brought forth great abundance, as is evidenced by the great haul of fish then, and by our presence here in Church today. Drawing from this, after the Lord comes to us, we cannot expect the Lord to make our earthbound lives easier; rather, they will be harder in a certain sense. We can carry this burden, lighten it even, by knowing that we carry it in the service of Christ.

Apostolic Witness

But going further into this passage, I note that there is another reading of this story that involves the Apostolic witness of Christ. They accomplish everything in this passage after he taught. They came to know him, heard his word, and followed his command. This provides us with further meaning from this gospel: our burden will be lightened with the knowledge of Christ. Again, the disciples were able to accomplish so much after Christ taught, after they came to know him. For us then, coming to know Christ will allow us to do much and live our lives in his service.

But how do we come to know Christ? The image presented in the gospel today is key: we see him sitting like a teacher of old on the boat, the people were even pressing around him to hear “the word of God (Lk. 5.1).” A boat is an image of salvation; it allows you to traverse the stormy waters from one point to another. In other words, the boat is an image of salvation, and also the Church. The Church, the place were Christ sits and teaches even to this very day, maintains this Apostolic witness that will enliven us, empower us to hear the call of Christ and to follow after him. If we feel empty, alone, incapable of following him, of leading the life he has called us to, the place to be renewed is here, hearing his word through the scripture, the liturgy, and in the midst of this Apostolic community.

The Alpha and the Omega

In preparation for this sermon, I read a few things about Lake Gennesaret, which is also called the Sea of Galilee or the Sea of Tiberius. It is an enormous freshwater lake both in width and depth. It provided livelihood for many because of its water, its fish, and as a means of transport. It is fed by the River Jordan, which flows through it, but it is also fed by underground springs. And here another aspect of this reading came to me: just by sitting there, our Lord taught us about himself without words.

Consider the setting: our Lord astride the waters. The “waters” in the scriptures are often synonymous with chaos and death. This image of our Lord sitting on the boat together with his apostles provides us with a perfect image for how chaos and death are subdued and destroyed: by his teaching and by the Apostolic activity. By these things, all things are brought into order and into life. The water becomes not chaos and death; but Christ, the Lamb of God sitting as if upon his throne, makes the waters flow in an orderly fashion, bringing life. Christ’s teaching is like the spring of water feeding the lake, which so many in a dry and arid land need for the basics of life. It is life-giving. The Apostles’ preaching is like that great river, the River Jordan, flowing into it, receiving that water, that life, and going forth from it and bringing this life to those who also need it. Brothers and sisters, this life is our life, this teaching is for us. Our Lord meets us right here and right now at this moment in our lives, seeking to bring us into the life he has for us, a life of service, following his teachings, indeed, a life with him, from now and to the ages.

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Archpriest Alexander Rentel, a 1995 M.Div. graduate of St. Vladimir’s, finished his doctoral dissertation under the direction of Fr. Robert Taft, SJ, at the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome in January 2004. Prior to coming to St. Vladimir’s as a professor, Fr. Alexander was a 2000-2001 Junior Fellow in Byzantine Studies at Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D.C. He has taken numerous research trips to Greece, Italy, and France. He was ordained to the priesthood in July 2001. He and his wife, Nancy (née Homyak, M.Div. 1995) are the proud parents of three children, Dimitrios, Maria, and Daniel.

This is the final part in a three part series on The Lord’s Prayer by Dr. George Parsenios, Sessional Professor of New Testament at St. Vladimir’s Seminary and Associate Professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary. This article is republished with the permission of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

The word translated here as “temptation” is the Greek word “peirasmos.” The term appears in the New Testament to describe many types of temptation, but it also appears in biblical passages that describe the temptations awaiting the faithful in the last days, when even believers will be hard pressed to renounce or ignore their faith. God will support the faithful in the midst of such temptations. Revelation 3:10 says, “I will preserve you from the hour of temptation (peirasmos).” We should not imagine, though, that such temptation lies only in the future. In Christ, the kingdom of heaven has already drawn near (Matt. 3:19). We are already in the time of trial, already tempted to fall away, and we beg for God to deliver us from this trial. In the midst of such struggles Christ remains our savior, as he says, “In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart. I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). The Lord’s Prayer reminds us that the present world is not our final home. We are citizens of a heavenly commonwealth (Phil. 3:20) and we must live here and now in the light of our heavenly future. Such an approach to life meets with necessary struggles, but we do not toil alone. The same Lord who gave us this prayer also promised, “I am with you always, to the close of the age” (Matt. 28:30). Amen!

This article has made extensive use of the following two works: Dale Allison, The Sermon on the Mount: Inspiring the Moral Imagination (Crossroad, 1999); Alistair Stewart-Sykes, (transl.) Tertullian, Cyprian and Origen on the Lord’s Prayer (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2004). Those interested in further reading may consult them.

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George Parsenios, M.A. Duke University, M.Div. Holy Cross School of Theology, M.A., M.Phil., and Ph.D. Yale University, is Associate Professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary and Professor of New Testament at St Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary. Used with the kind permission of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese Department of Outreach and Evangelism.

This is part two in a three part series on The Lord’s Prayer by Dr. George Parsenios, Sessional Professor of New Testament at St. Vladimir’s Seminary and Associate Professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary. This article is republished with the permission of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

The parable of the unforgiving servant in Matthew 18:23-35 provides a clear illustration of this petition. A servant begged his master to forgive him the enormous debt he had run up, but that same servant refused to forgive his fellow servant a paltry sum. The parable concludes with the admonition that God’s forgiveness is possible only if “you forgive your brother from your heart.” If we are to enjoy God’s forgiveness in the future, “when the master returns,” we must forgive one another in the present (see also Matt. 5:21-26).

As the deacon or priest elevates the Holy Gifts during the Divine Liturgy, he says, “Thine own of Thine own, we offer unto Thee, on behalf of all and for all.” These words, based on I Chronicles 29:14, remind us that the Liturgy is not “ours,” because it is offered for all people. The words also remind us that we have no gifts to offer God that are “ours” and not already His. In fact we have nothing that is ours–but we do have a God Who graciously “deigns to accept at our hands” that which we offer Him.

Guiding our actions by these words is one way for each of us to “expand the mission” in our own parishes. Many of our parish communities happily welcome and accept visitors and newcomers. But there are still parishes in which visitors may be ignored, treated indifferently, or made to feel downright uneasy. Perhaps that happens when parish members forget that the Liturgy, the Church, the coffee hour are not “theirs”–at least not according to the words they hear each time the Holy Gifts are offered.

We all know people who became part of the Orthodox Christian family because someone welcomed them on their first parish visit and encouraged them to continue exploring the faith. These seekers-who-became-members bring diverse personal abilities to the Church, including skills that strengthen our collective effort to reach out to more people. In other words, they help us “expand the mission.” How can we do less than welcome them, in the name of the One to Whom everything belongs, and from Whom everyone receives?

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Matushka Valerie Zahirsky (SVOTS ’74) chairs the Orthodox Church in America’s Department of Christian Education. She is the wife of Archpriest Michael Zahirsky (SVOTS ’75), Rector of Saints Peter and Paul Church, Moundsville, WV. This article first appeared in the commemorative book for the 18th All American Council and is republished here with permission of the author.

This is part one in a three part series on The Lord’s Prayer by Dr. George Parsenios, Sessional Professor of New Testament at St. Vladimir’s Seminary and Associate Professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary. This article is republished with the permission of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

Why is this called “the Lord’s Prayer”? It was given to us by Jesus, the Lord. The Old Testament associates the name “Lord” with the one God of Israel (Deut. 6:4), and New Testament authors apply the title “Lord” to Jesus in order to proclaim his divine identity. Paul says that every tongue should confess that “Jesus is Lord” (Phil. 2:11) and Thomas calls Jesus “my Lord and my God” (John 20:28). The Lord’s Prayer appears in Matthew 6:9-13 and Luke 11:2-4. The version in Matthew is better known, and is also the one used in the prayer life of the Church. This brief exposition will proceed, therefore, verse by verse through Matthew’s version.

“Our Father, who art in heaven”

The Lord’s Prayer is not addressed to “my” but to “our” Father. Individual Christians are not lone believers who have “personal relationships” with “my” God. True fellowship with God requires fellowship with other true believers (I John 1:3-4). Tertulian makes the matter plain when he says, “We cannot call God our Father unless we call the Church our Mother.”

The Father is “in heaven.” The entire Lord’s Prayer can be read in light of this phrase. If the Father is “in heaven,” the dominant concern of the Lord’s Prayer is that God’s will “be done on earth as it is in heaven.” We look forward to that future day when Christ will return, making all things new. The Lord’s Prayer is defined by this future hope in two related ways. Some parts of the prayer call for Christ to return quickly and for God to complete his work in the world. Other petitions focus on the time up until Christ comes, praying for glimpses of heavenly life even now on earth.

These twin concerns–the heavenly future and the earthly present–lie behind even those phrases that seem concerned with other things, like the next petition, “Hallowed be thy name.” Asking God to make his name hallowed, or holy (agiastheto), is specifically a call for God to renew the world. In Ezekiel 36:23, God complains that his name has been profaned among the nations and that Israel has caused his name to be derided and mocked. When he promises to correct the errors of all humanity, God says, “I will hallow (agiaso) my name.” Praying for God’s name to be “hallowed” will thus lead us also to pray the next petition: “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

“Give us this day our daily bread”

As St. Cyprian notes, this verse can support several literal and spiritual interpretations. In one sense, the petition reminds us how to live as we await the return of Christ. If our focus is on the arrival of God’s heavenly reign, we cannot be anxious about life on earth. Jesus says, “Do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ …Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and these things will be given to you as well” (Matt. 6:31-33). We thus request only enough bread for “this day.” From another perspective, life in heaven is often characterized as a great banquet (Matt. 22:1-14). Praying for bread, in this sense, is equivalent to praying for Christ to return, in order that we might enjoy this heavenly banquet now, on “this day.” From yet another perspective, Jesus tells us that he is himself the “bread of life” (John 6:51) which we share when we partake of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist (John 6:53). To ask for daily bread in this sense is to pray to be worthy of regular participation in the Eucharist.

A homily for Pentecost.

Today, on this fiftieth day after Pascha, the feast of Pentecost, we stand at a decisive turning point: we counted all the weeks that lead us through Great Lent to Pascha, and then the weeks after Pascha. But from now own, until we begin again next year the journey to Jerusalem and the Passion, every week is counted from this Sunday – the Sundays of Pentecost.

This feast had originally begun as an agrarian feast, the celebration of the grain harvest, the first of the crop. By the time of Christ it had become a commemoration of the promulgation of the covenant: of how Moses had ascended Sinai and received the gift of the Law;
because of this, on this day, all the faithful were required to renew their pledge to the covenant. This feast continued and completed the celebration of the Passover, a life now lived in the light of that cornerstone event.

This is the very setting for the reading that we heard in today’s Gospel: how Jesus was in Jerusalem on the last day of the feast, the great day, and standing up, he said:

“If any one thirst, let him come to me and drink. He who believes in me, as the scriptures said, ‘Out of his heart shall flow rivers of living waters.”

Those who had been sent to arrest him returned to the chief priests and Pharisees empty-handed, they were perplexed- “no man has ever spoke like this man” they reported. The Pharisees, who thought of themselves as the keepers of the Law, were indignant: to them it seemed that Christ had repeatedly broken and flouted the Law; so, while the crowd was starting to believe in Christ, the Pharisees dismissed this: the crowd, they argued, clearly don’t know the Law, and so they are accursed.

However, the tables have turned: Christ came not to put an end to the law, but to complete it.

And it is this completion that we celebrate today on our feast of Pentecost: not the law written on stone tablets, but the Law of God inscribed by the Holy Spirit on the fleshly hearts of human beings.

As the Law given through Moses prepared the people of Israel to become a pure and holy nation, to enter the Promised Land, so the Law of the Spirit given in Christ prepares us, as the Israel of God, to purify ourselves from the corruption of this world, entering instead into the Kingdom of God.

As Moses ascended Sinai, amidst the thunder and lightning, when the Lord came down upon it in fire, and then descended with his face shining so brightly that he covered his face with a veil, so Christ, having ascended into the heavens through his Passion, now sends down upon his disciples another paraclete – another intercessor or comforter – who descended upon the apostles in the form of fiery tongues, so that clothed with power from above, they might become witnesses to Christ to all the ends of the earth, calling all human beings to faith in Christ and salvation.

This is the gift of the Spirit that we heard about last night: in the reading from the book of Numbers – where the Lord took some of the spirit that was on Moses and put it upon the seventy elders, so that they prophesied.

And in the prophecy of Joel, who foretold how the Lord would pour out his spirit upon all flesh, the prophecy that Peter quotes on the day of Pentecost itself.

It is through this gift of the Spirit that we too become witnesses to everything that Christ has accomplished for our sake: and so time, from this day onwards, is measured as the days of Pentecost. Next Sunday we will begin our celebration of this time by commemorating all the saints – all those, that is, who in the Spirit have become images of Christ.

The gift of the Spirit, as we heard in the reading from Acts and see in the icon before us, took the form of tongues of fire resting upon each of the apostles: tongues – because they were called upon to preach the Word of God, and fire – because God is a consuming fire.

Let us take heed about this: what we are called to is not simply preaching in the sense of communicating some information, telling others about something that happened long ago;

No, we are to become witnesses – that is, monuments, examples, martyrs – of what Christ has effected, we are to be consumed by the fire of the Spirit, so that we are incorporated into the life of God, to become the body of Christ (as we see on the icon – Jesus is not present) so that each and every one of us becomes a partaker in Christ’s victory and his Kingdom, so that we also have the Spirit of God in our hearts, calling upon the heavenly God as Father, Abba.

As we come to realize where our true home lies – that we are not children of this world, but that our true home, our true happiness and our very life itself is found only with God in his Kingdom, as we come to realize this, we will also certainly, even if paradoxically, become ever more dissatisfied with ourselves, our bondage to sin, to our passions, to our desires, to all the innumerable ways in which my ego binds me to this world to the vicious cycles that lead to death and destruction.

If we don’t perceive this dissatisfaction, we will never be prompted to leave such things behind, to ascend with Christ from earth to heaven, where he has gone to prepare a place for us. And, of course, the only means for this ascent is to follow Christ by ourselves taking up the cross, something which we are now able to do by the power of the Spirit granted to us.

As we take these steps, we will also assuredly begin to experience that which was spoken about in the third reading from last night: the words of Ezekiel about how the Lord will take out our hearts of stone and replace them with hearts of flesh – merciful, loving and compassionate.

It is this that God desires – a broken spirit and a contrite heart. It is this that is indeed the fulfillment of the law; and it is this bloodless sacrifice that we now offer him, as we lift up our hearts to the Lord.

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For more homilies by Fr. John Behr, check out The Cross Stands While the World Turns: Homilies for the Cycles of the Year.

A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Pascha, 2015.

There has been a lot of fighting this week. Last night there was a big boxing match with two superstars duking it out. The winner of that fight went home many millions of dollars richer, with the adulation of an international crowd ringing in his ears. Earlier in the week we saw a much larger and poorer fight in the city of Baltimore. A fight that pitted citizen against citizen, against policeman, against shopkeeper, against everything. There were heroes too; people who bravely stood for peace or in defense of the weak. But unlike Vegas on Saturday night, in this fight there were no trophies, no accolades, and no winners.

In the wake of the violence voices from every corner have eagerly hurled blame and solutions into the digital winds. “The problem is racism!” “The problem is black culture!” “The problem is poverty and lack of education!” “The Problem is Obama!” “What we need is more government programs!” “What we need is more individual responsibility!” “What we need is more jobs!” On and on it goes in an endless cacophony of opinion, the most bewildering aspect of which is that there is, in most of it, at least a modicum of truth.

It is true that Baltimore’s police department had a history of abusing the authority it was given. It is true that poverty and difficult circumstances do not excuse wanton destruction and theft. It is true that racism and abuse of power are still sadly common in this country, and it is true that heroic public service is too. If all these things are true; if neither fault nor solution can be ascribed solely to the public, the President, or the police, where does this leave us as we look for a way forward? How can justice and peace be realized? As you might expect, the Gospel reading gives us light for this dark problem.

Today we hear about a man who had been sitting by a sheep washing pool in Jerusalem for 38 years in the hope of being healed of his paralysis. Once a year the Archangel Michael would disturb the sheepy water and the first person into the pool at that point would be restored to full health. Alas for our poor paralytic. In all the years he sat waiting, never once did he get to the water in time because, unlike many of those who had been healed in the past, he did not have a friend to help him. Jesus sees the man laying there and asks him, “Do you want to be made well?” “Of course!” He gasps excitedly. Actually, no, he doesn’t say that at all. He simply tells Jesus that he can’t get to the water fast enough. He’s fixated on the pool, his old way of thinking about the solution to his problem, and doesn’t know that salvation isn’t in the pool any longer, but in the man standing before him.

In an article written a year ago for this very day, Fr. Lawrence Farley gives the following insight into today’s Gospel:

In John’s subtext, the pool functions as an image of the Law and the man as an image of Israel hoping to find salvation in the Law. The paralytic had been long in his condition, even as Israel had long been waiting for divine salvation. The Bethesda pool was thought to have been stirred by an angel, even as the Law had been given by angels (Acts 7:53). The pool even had five porticoes (John 5:4), even as the Mosaic Law had five books. Like the paralytic who had to stop relying on the pool for salvation and turn instead to Christ, so Israel had to stop relying upon the Law to save them, and also turn to Christ. The old was giving place to the new.

We see this contrast between the old and the new throughout John’s Gospel: not Jewish water, but Christ’s wine, not the old Temple, but Christ’s body, not the manna in the wilderness, but Christ’s flesh. Christian faith involved turning from the old ways to the new, as sacred Jewish history veered upward into the Kingdom and the eschaton. It was as Isaiah foretold long ago: “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you now perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:18-19).

How does this Gospel illumine the ongoing social crisis we saw in Baltimore this past week and may face in our own community in the future? It grounds us in Christ again. Like the paralytic we get fixated on our old external answers. We favor conservative, or progressive, or radical political solutions, and the partial truth they contain, to the intractable problems of human society. We forget that the power that allowed Fr. Roman Braga to confess the faith despite horrendous torture and years of isolation; the power that gave Dr. George Washington Carver, a black man, the willingness to discover, as a blessing to the Jim Crow South, more than 300 uses for its peanut crops; the power that can give frustrated Baltimoreans and world-weary policemen love, compassion, and forgiveness for one another – a true basis for society – is not rooted in politics, economics, criminal or social justice. The power to love one’s enemies, to do good to those who persecute you, and so end the demonic cycle of hatred and violence, is in the grace of the Holy Spirit given as a gift to those who put their faith in Christ.

It seems cliche to say it, but, more than anything else, this is what Baltimoreans need. They need Christ. So do the people in our community where these same tensions are not unknown. And we have Christ, here in the Holy Mysteries, and therefore in ourselves! We are grace-bearing creatures, commanded to be salt and light for those around us. If we obey this divine command and begin to offer Christ to our community, lovingly, patiently, and gently, through prayer, acts of kindness, integrity, fidelity, and all the rest that goes with being His witnesses, He can bring healing to our community by doing in others the work He is doing in us. As Isaiah says, He will lift the low, make the rough smooth, and straighten the crooked. (Is. 40:4)

With His Father, and the All-Holy, Good, and Life-Creating Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

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Fr. John Cox is a 2011 graduate of St. Vladimir’s Seminary. Following graduation Fr. John and his family were assigned to Dormition of the Theotokos Orthodox Church (OCA, Diocese of the South) in Norfolk, Virginia.

Sermon, Fifth Sunday of Lent 2015 (St Mary of Egypt)
Mark 10:32-45

This morning, James and John desire to be seated with Christ in His Glory. And our Lord, to test them, asks whether they are able to drink the cup that He drinks, and to be baptized with the baptism with which He is baptized. James and John answer, “We are able!” The response from Jesus, in a nutshell, is: be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

Today is the last Sunday of Great Lent, and on Friday evening just five days from now, we will begin the celebration of Holy Week. Friday evening will open a ten day long procession to the cross, to the tomb, and to the resurrection.

And as we get ready, our Lord extends the same invitation to us as He extended to James and John. To all of us who wish to see His glory, who desire to be by His side at Pascha, Jesus first says to you and to me, “but are you able and willing to drink the cup that I drink from? Are you able to walk with me through Holy Week? Are you willing to be by my side, and to carry my cross with me?”

I hope your answer is yes. I hope that Pascha is not just a Sunday on which we show up, having given no thought to Christ on the days of Holy Week.

To help us prepare — to help us take up and drink from the Lord’s same cup — I wanted to share a list of 10 things to do during Holy Week. These are ten recommendations for how to be baptized with the same baptism with which our Lord is baptized.

1. Go to as many services as you can. We offer a large number. Usually, at least two each day. And if you can’t go to every service, set aside time to read prayerfully through those you cannot attend. It is through worship that we return and unite ourselves to Christ. The services of Holy Week are not just memory exercises. Holy Week is a single unbroken Liturgy that over ten days invites us to participate in the saving love of Jesus Christ, not to just remember some events from long ago. The love which Jesus shows is real, it is now, and we are invited through worship to receive it. Does it seem unreasonable to attend Church so much in a single week? Of course it does! But Christ’s love for us is extreme and intense. And so we return that love during Holy Week in a way that is beyond reason!
2. Intensify your fasting. Each person is called to fast as he or she is able. Some are able to fast more, some less. During Holy week, each of us should increase the intensity of the fast. Think about how you have followed the fast up to this point. During Holy Week, continue what you do, and then do a little bit more. Do you fast just a few days a week? Increase the number of your fasting days. Are you fasting from meat only? Consider fasting from dairy as well. Consider eating smaller meals each time. For some, it may be possible to eat only two small meals a day rather than three. Holy Week is a time in which we should increase our hunger for Christ, and physical hunger is one way to do so. Physical hunger reminds us that we need what God offers, and fasting helps us to focus on the love of Christ. Fasting is hard, but remember the good gift which waits for us at the Paschal Liturgy of the Resurrection — the good gift of Christ Himself!
3. Create silence. Disconnect entirely from your cell phone, email, internet usage and especially social media. (If any of this is needed for work or school, designate a window of usage of no more than a few hours.) Do not watch TV, or listen to the radio. Cancel all lessons, sports, and social activities. It’s only for one week. The world will still be there after Pascha. When we create silence in this way, we give ourselves the space and opportunity to be drawn by Christ more deeply into His words and actions during Holy Week. We remove some of the man-made barriers that separate us from “drinking from his cup” (Mark 10:38). And if we do not create silence, then the noise of this world will easily overwhelm the “still small voice” through which the Holy Spirit speaks (1 Kings 19:12). To hear the voice of Christ, we have to silence the relentless cascade of screed and distraction we otherwise allow the world to pump full force into our hearts and minds.
4. Create prayer. Turn on some church music. In particular, listen to the hymns of Holy Week. And learn something about each hymn you hear: On what day do we sing this hymn? During which service? What is the place and purpose of this hymn? The hymns of Passion Week create holy echoes that help to connect our worship with the rest of daily life. Singing “Behold the Bridegroom” at the services which begin Holy Week is good, but hearing and singing the same hymn while driving, walking, or cleaning the house is even better. Doing so, we allow the prayer of the Church to become the prayer of everyday life.
5. Be still. Set aside time each day to sit quietly in front of an icon of Christ, about 20-30 minutes. Light a candle, say a short prayer, and then simply wait in silence for the Lord to speak a word, or to bestow a deeper sense of His presence. Being silent is a way of saying to God, “I am here. And I wait on no other than You. Visit me in my smallness.” Stillness during Holy Week is a good practice for the experience of Great and Holy Friday and Saturday. The most eloquent word ever spoken is the silence of our dead Savior while hanging on the cross, and while lying in the tomb. His silence says everything. The stillness of His death is the great action that redeems and sanctifies all the world. His silence on the cross shouts down hell. His stillness in the tomb explodes the realm of the dead and bestows life on all. When we practice stillness and silence during Holy Week, we are preparing to unite our silence to Christ’s. We are preparing to die with our Savior … so that we too might be raised to new life!
6. Always be with Christ (as Fr +Tom Hopko reminds us). Occupy your mind as often as you can with a short prayer. If you do not already have the habit of praying the Jesus Prayer, Holy Week is a great time to begin: “O Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” This prayer increases our awareness of the nearness of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It reminds us that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God. Christ is always with us, and through continual prayer, we work to do the same — to always be with our Lord who loves and strengthens us.
7. Read a Gospel. Set aside time each day to read several chapters from either Matthew, Mark, or Luke. (We save John for after Pascha!) And remember that in the Gospels, we do not find words about Christ, we find words from Christ. Each verse of Holy Scripture is a word spoken directly to you by the raised and glorified Lord. Each word is a word for now, each word is a new word that you have never received before. Enjoy the gift! Jesus wants to give it to you!
8. Seek forgiveness and healing. Chances are, each of us has at least a small handful of relationships in need of healing. During Holy Week, work for that healing. Admit your mistakes, and forgive the mistakes made by others. Offer yourself in love to at least one other person from whom you are estranged. Make a phone call, send a letter or email — you have a blessing to use email in this one case! — or schedule a coffee date. Remember how much you love this person, and remember that we were created to live in peace and joy with one another. Christ’s love for us is ENORMOUS compare to pettiness we so often hold on to. And if you have been deeply harmed by another person, seek help! Reach out to someone — your spouse, another family member or friend, your priest — and ask for guidance. Search through prayer, fasting, and honest communication for a way forward. As they say, holding onto anger (or hatred, or resentment, or vengefulness) is like swallowing poison and expecting someone else to die. Seek release from what possesses. Enjoy the lightness of a relationship that has been healed and restored.
9. Call someone who is sick or lonely. Visit them if you can. Share yourself with someone who needs you. Our parishes, and our neighborhoods, are filled with people who are dying of loneliness and isolation. Extend yourself and give them the gift of human presence. One of the great themes of Holy Week is abandonment — how our Lord was abandoned by just about everyone, including it seems by His own Father. As we seek to unite ourselves to Christ through prayer and worship during Holy Week, may we not at the same time abandon those who need us. To be united to Christ, we must at the same time strengthen our solidarity with all those around us. We are part of the mystical body of Christ, and we are called to a life of unity and communion with one another.
10. Think about Bright Week and beyond! With Pascha comes the true light that enlightens the whole world and each person in it. As we unite ourselves to Christ, the radiance of the Resurrection changes everything. The week after Pascha is truly a Bright Week — the Resurrection colors all with brilliance and beauty. Nothing should ever be the same. Let this Holy Week be a launching pad into the rest of life. Having united ourselves to Christ in both death and resurrection — having lived out our baptism through the celebration of Holy Week — we should get ready to proclaim the good news in all that we do. May we remember that every Sunday is a “little Pascha” and that each time we gather to celebrate the Liturgy we proclaim Christ’s death and we confess His resurrection. And if every Sunday is a little Pascha, then every week is a little Holy Week. Each day of the year is a day on which we give thanks for the Holy Mysteries we last received, and look forward to being received by Christ once again at the life-giving chalice. Holy Week and Pascha occur once a year, but they are the rule, not the exception. Holy Week and Pascha are the models for every week of the year. Jesus Christ touches all of time through the Cross, and all of time collapses into the eternal now of His divine love. May we live all of life in the light of the Resurrection!

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The Rev. Theophan Whitfield (SVOTS ’10) is the rector of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Salem, Massachusetts. Father Theophan had been a teacher for fifteen years at independent schools, first in New York City and later in Connecticut, prior to pursuing studies at St. Vladimir’s. He and his wife, Matushka Manna, have three daughters: Ayame, Miya, and Emi.

Baptism is Christian initiation. The goal of this process and its culminating rite is not some individualized, purely personal experience. The goal of baptism is initiation into a community of faith, a church. It is entrance into a way of life together, not a rite to do something to or for an individual in private. It asserts from its beginning that to be a follower of Christ means to be grafted into the Body of Christ. There is no Christian without church, no faith outside the community of faith.

Christian initiation and its attendant rite of baptism is the proper and primary business of the church. The church has been told to make disciples by “baptizing and teaching” (Matt 28:19-20). Our major work is the evangelistic business of claiming people for the Kingdom and fitting them for life in that Kingdom. Baptism is that rich, multi-faceted, complex way of engaging the body, head, and heart in that strange and glorious work of claiming, instructing, washing, anointing, blessing, and receiving people for the Kingdom.[1]

These words, written over thirty years ago by a Duke Divinity School professor, did as much to inform my theology of baptism as any other words I have read, either while in or after leaving seminary. In truth these two paragraphs stand as the foundation for my own theology of mission. The Orthodox Church is in the business of making converts. The Great Commission, given by our Lord in the closing words of Matthew’s Gospel, is not an option. Archbishop Anastasios of Albania has stated two remarkable things concerning evangelization: “A Church without mission is a contradiction in terms,” and “Indifference to mission is a negation of Orthodoxy.”[2] I would expand this by saying: “A Christian not engaged in mission is simply not a Christian.”

I am one of those people who are Orthodox by conviction. Like thousands of others in recent years, I made a choice to enter the Holy Orthodox Church, not counting the cost and believing that I had found the “pearl of great price” (Matt 13:46). I have not changed my belief that I was uniting myself to the Church of the Apostles. What I have done is matured in my Orthodoxy, to the point where I can now clearly see the need to rediscover, in most of the Orthodox Christian world, a new zeal for making the Great Commission central, once again, in our common life.

For too many in Orthodoxy, words like “evangelism” and “outreach” are not claimed as our own and are given over to others. This sad fact keeps the “Pearl of Great Price” hidden in ghetto worlds where cultural preservation and so called “ethnic pride” is substituted for the “Gospel Truth.” All too easily our faith communities have created a surrogate gospel supported by surrogate ministries that betray our baptismal identities as Orthodox Christians.

If we accept the dominical charge that we are to “go forth” to all nations, we will do well once again to consider the scripture readings and homilies on the Sundays of Great Lent: they are directed to those who are “preparing for holy illumination.” This is true even in parishes where there are no candidates for baptism being prepared. The Church is catholic and throughout the world we find catechumens seeking to be united to Christ and His Church. Great Lent is the baptismal season of the ecclesiastical year, and preaching must stir this memory and fill the faithful with zeal to share the treasure of their faith. The faithful are also called to listen closely to the prayers offered in the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts and to “pray for these brethren who are preparing for holy illumination and for their salvation.”

The blessing of hearing and preaching directed to those preparing to enter the Church through baptism, chrismation, and Eucharist triggers the rediscovery of our own baptismal identity. We are called to once again recognize that having been united to Christ and to one another in Christ, we are His Body. We have been sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit, and we recall that this is not merely a past event, a static reality, but a “stream of living water” (John 7:38).

By privatizing the rite of holy baptism, we have separated the corporate nature of the mystery from the very people who are called to nurture the newly baptized. We have turned baptism into something precious for infants, and we have forgotten the radical nature of what it means to “put on Christ.” The gospel is not only a belief, but a way of life, and, in this life, our values—the values of the Kingdom—often find us at odds with the beliefs, values, and way of life accepted by the zeitgeist, the spirit of the age, which is passing and is not eternal.

If Orthodox Christians are once again to proclaim the glad tidings with boldness, we will need to restore the centrality of The Great Commission. We will need to bring ourselves to a fresh response to the New Testament teaching that we did not choose God but he chose us (John 15:16). We are his hands, feet, and voice in this present world. Life in the Kingdom involves our synergia in response to the love offering from God. We are invited to a conversion. We must become as little children to enter the Kingdom (Matt 18:3).

Many years ago I read a book written by Archbishop Joost de Blank of Cape Town titled This is Conversion.[3] I have never forgotten how convicted I was, to use an evangelical term, of just how radical true conversion is. Try turning the other cheek when struck and you will know exactly what I mean. To go down into the watery grave of holy baptism is to rise to a radical, new way of life. Is this not why Jesus says: “If you have ears to hear, then hear”? (Rev 13:9). To hear the Beatitudes is easy but to live the Beatitudes is radical to the extreme!

This radical conversion and way of life that Christians willingly embrace are exactly what preachers are called to proclaim and to make clear to those who seek to fully unite themselves to Christ. To be signed and sealed with the sign of the cross is to be marked as a Christian, and, come the dread day of judgment, an account must be given from one so marked. This is why a lukewarm faith—an anemic response to the great gift given in holy baptism—is so deadly. This is true for us as individual Christians and corporately as the Church. A Christian not engaged in evangelism is simply not a Christian!

We who are members of the Orthodox Church make the audacious claim to have “put on Christ” and to possess “right faith and right worship.” This is why we must be very conscious of our Lord’s words as we live our lives as baptized Christians: “If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not be guilty of sin, but now they have no excuse for their sin” (John 15:22).

I have been told, but I don’t know the source, that Protopresbyter Alexander Schmemann was once asked what the Orthodox Church needed in order to experience a revival. He responded: “Nothing, as we have everything we needed. All we must do is begin to use what we already possess.” We have many positive signs that a recovery of the centrality of The Great Commission is underway. Many parishes have not only restored the prayers of the catechumenate, but they also have catechumens preparing for baptism and reception into the Church.

This year, as you celebrate the Divine Liturgy of St. Basil the Great on the morning of Holy Saturday, be aware this is the traditional time to baptize those whom we have been praying for throughout the Great Fast. The Old Testament readings from Genesis, Jonah, and Daniel are intended to be read at the actual time of holy baptism for the catechumens. They prepare us to hear St. Paul addressing the Church at Rome with these words:

Do you not know that as many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? Therefore we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life. For if we have been united together in the likeness of His death, certainly we also shall be in the likeness of His resurrection, knowing this, that our old man was crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be done away with that we should no longer be slaves of sin. For he who has died has been freed from sin. Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him, knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, dies no more. Death no longer has dominion over Him. For the death that He died, He died to sin once for all; but the life that He lives, He lives to God. Likewise you also, reckon yourselves to be dead indeed to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Rom 6:3-11)

Matthew 28:1-20 soon follows this epistle reading. The Great Commission in the gospel reading is placed at the center of the initiation rites for the newly baptized to hear and for the faithful also to hear, helping them to remember their own baptism and to give thanks to God for the gift of eternal life.

[1] William H. Willimon, Remember Who You Are: Baptism, a Model for Christian Life (Nashville, TN: The Upper Room, 1980), 22-23.

[2] Luke Veronis, Go Forth, from the Foreward (Ben Lomond, CA: Conciliar Press, 2009), 10.

[3] (New York: Morehouse-Gorhma Co.), 1958.

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Archpriest Chad Hatfield is the President of St. Vladimir’s Seminary.. He previously served as dean of St. Herman Seminary, Kodiak, Alaska, and was founding priest of All Saints Orthodox Church, Salina, Kansas and St. Mary Magdalene Mission, Manhattan, Kansas. Before converting to the Orthodox Christian faith, he and his family were missionaries in South Africa. Currently, he is developing a missiology component in St. Vladimir’s Curriculum. He earned M.Div. and S.T.M. degrees from Nashotah House Seminary, which also granted him a Doctor of Divinity honoris causa in 2008.