The Orthodox Church in America (OCA) announced March 30, 2020 the appointment of Archpriest Thomas Soroka as Project Manager for the Departments of the Orthodox Church in America. With the blessing of His Beatitude Metropolitan Tikhon, Fr. Thomas will plan, coordinate, and oversee the work of the different ministry departments of the Church.
“The coordination of the work of the ministry departments is crucial as we work to implement the vision set by His Beatitude Metropolitan Tikhon in his work Of What Life Do We Speak,” said Archpriest Alexander Rentel. “Father Thomas is well known throughout the Orthodox Church in America and brings to the job a wealth of real-world experience gained from senior management positions at Accenture, Bank of New York Mellon, and PNC Bank.”
In his appointment, Fr. Thomas will remain the rector of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church, McKees Rocks, PA where he has served since July 2000. Father Thomas is married to Matuska Joni Soroka and they have three daughters.
“I’m greatly honored and humbled to be entrusted with this blessed work and very excited to help develop impactful and necessary resources to support our parishes and faithful in their church life,” said Fr. Thomas. “At every decision, our work will be guided by the question, ‘How can we support parishes so that they can focus on their ministry to thrive and grow?’ I want to hear from parishes and leaders about their needs and how the Departments can best serve them. Our clergy and faithful have so many outstanding ideas to ensure that our parishes and people are equipped to do the work of ministry and I can’t wait to start tapping into that.”
To learn more about the work of the department ministries click here, and to contribute to their work click here.
“Unity in Diversity.” This expression speaks about a balance between wholeness and difference, between integrity and variety. The idea is sometimes rooted in our teaching about the Holy Trinity: God is a unity, one God, in a diversity of persons, Father Son and Holy Spirit. Unity in diversity can also suggest something very important to us, as human beings, but specifically as Orthodox Christians. Because it can illustrate that things or people don’t have to look, walk, talk, and think exactly alike in order to be in union with each other.
Not all differences can be held together. Some differences between us really do divide us. Thinking about Orthodoxy, if someone were to say that Jesus Christ is not divine, or that he’s not human, that person would be at odds with the Orthodox Christian faith, and therefore divided from it. But not all differences divide. In fact, some differences make for an even deeper unity.
This sounds surprising, but anyone in a reasonably healthy marriage knows this instinctively: two people don’t have to become identical to each other in order to be in union with each other. In fact, it is often precisely the differences that make their union not only more interesting, but also more real, more substantial. We don’t, as a rule, marry mirror-images of ourselves.
Unity and diversity play themselves out within any human society, grouping, or family. And they have long been applied to the unity and diversity that characterize the Church. St Paul gives us the image of the Church as a body, with members that are different and interdependent (see especially 1 Cor. 12). From its apostolic beginnings, then, the Church has always been thought of as a community of diverse members with diverse gifts, and the diversity of the saints continues to testify to how differently the same Christian faith and life may be expressed in this world.
The Church’s diversity-in-unity was also articulated in a striking way in the second century. In the midst of a heated crisis in the Church concerning the date on which Easter should be celebrated, St Irenaeus of Lyons considered the various practices and dates and said: “The difference in practice confirms the unity in faith.” Yes, you read that correctly. The differences confirm the unity. They testify to it. They strengthen it. This pronouncement challenges our logic: wouldn’t you have thought that it’s unity in practice that confirms unity in faith? Well that can happen too. But what is being said here is also true, and deeply important: the very fact that we can embody diversity, yet agree in the matters of the greatest significance, confirms and deepens our unity. It means that our unity doesn’t depend on our being identical, or completely undifferentiated. In short, unity is not uniformity.
St Irenaeus’s saying confirms the principle of “unity in diversity,” or perhaps “diversity in unity.” Unity in the most important sense, unity concerning the things that really matter, is not threatened but enriched by diversity. Fr St Irenaeus, the different dates of the Paschal celebration did not threaten but even enriched what really mattered, namely the fact and the life-giving content of the Lord’s Pascha itself.
But with all its enriching potential, the interplay of unity and diversity also poses two serious challenges:
Unity is not uniformity, but the challenge is to identify and maintain coherence and unity within a diverse body. In the Church, that means the challenge of holding together diverse views, showing where they cohere—and also where they do not.
The other challenge is to recognize and even promote a genuine diversity, to show people that being “Orthodox” doesn’t necessarily mean doing and thinking in exactly the same way. If we do this right, we will be helping people understand what being “Orthodox” really consists in.
Both of these challenges require us to identify what is the unchangeable core of our faith and life, those things that cannot be denied or distorted without the loss of our unity. Having identified that core, it becomes possible to identify both the possibilities and the limits of diversity. For example, we can be on different calendars and be one Church. We can hold different teachings about “toll houses” and be one Church. We can even believe different things about how and when the world came into being (7,000 years ago, or 14 billion) and be in one Church.
But we cannot be one Church if some of us are saying that Jesus was “merely a very great man,” or that “Jesus was divine, but only appeared to be human.” It would also be hard to imagine being in the same Orthodox Church if some of us were to teach that “human personhood only begins at birth, and that therefore abortion is only the loss of a mass of cells.” These would be genuine divisions of teaching or practice, not just “a healthy diversity of expression.”
The examples I just gave are pretty obvious. But in fact, unity and diversity pose deep challenges to the Orthodox Church today, specifically in North America. We seek to be one. We seek to express our common Orthodox identity in a way that both recognizes and transcends our ethnic histories and identities. We desperately seek a unity that has, up until now, proved too challenging to be realized.
We are of course deeply concerned to be Orthodox. Sometimes we show that concern only by repeating all the formulas perfectly, getting every element of the liturgy, its vestments, architecture, and singing perfect. Nothing wrong with a loving effort to get these things right. The problem lies when we think that the substance of Orthodox faith and life resides entirely in them. If that’s what we think, whether consciously or not, then there becomes only one right way of praising God, one right Ochtoekos, one right set of vestments and hats. And one calendar on which the whole edifice is properly based. To think this way would not only be a great loss to the life of the Church, it wouldn’t be Orthodox.
St Irenaeus’s statement about, differences confirming unity, had to do with calendar issues. Can’t we go further? Aren’t there are other issues on which it is possible to do and teach things differently, provided we hold to the key elements of the apostolic faith? It is our responsibility to identify the diversities that can be held together in the unity of the Church.
One of the most significant and genuinely challenging cases in point is the relationship between the Orthodox Church and the “Oriental” Orthodox churches – the Coptic, Armenian, Syrian, Ethiopian, Eritrean, and Indian-Syrian Churches. In recent decades an official, Church-delegated dialogue process has affirmed that “both families have always loyally maintained the same authentic Orthodox Christological faith, and the unbroken continuity of the apostolic tradition.”[1] The first thing to do would be to test whether we agree with that statement. Because if we do, in other words, if the real theological unity has not been compromised by the historical terminological diversity of these church families, then we have a serious challenge before us: the challenge to live out the unity that we have identified, and admit within the life of One Church a greater diversity of liturgies, theological formulas, and saints.
Can we, Eastern and Oriental churches, together, conceivably embody a unity in diversity, a diversity in unity? It would require many of us to rethink what “Orthodoxy” looks like. We would have to ask what is currently keeping us apart: are there still genuinely church-dividing theological issues? To what extent are we in fact living in the mere habit of separation, learned from centuries out of communion? Are there liturgical, ministerial issues yet to be resolved? Is part of what is keeping us apart simply the fear of a greater diversity—not in matters of apostolic faith and practice, but in language and “culture?” I do not wish to prejudge the answers to these questions. But we owe ourselves, each other, and our God, the most thorough, responsible, prayerful consideration of such things. Christian love for the other, and Christian pursuit of truth wherever it is to be found, impel us to do no less.
I think then that the one great goal of all who are really and truly serving the Lord ought to be to bring back to union the churches who have at different times and in different ways divided from one another.
— St Basil the Great, Epistle 94
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[1] Second Agreed Statement (Chambésy, Switzerland 1990), §9.
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Dr. Peter C. Bouteneff is Professor Systematic Theology at St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary. He has broad interests in theology ancient and modern, but as a great fan of music and cinema he is also committed to exploring the connections between theology and popular culture, regularly offering a course on religious themes in film (one of his current courses this fall is “Religious Themes in Film”). Prof. Bouteneff co-directs the Arvo Pärt Project at St. Vladimir’s Seminary, an in-depth endeavor involving concerts, lectures, and publications. His most recent book is Arvo Pärt: Out of Silence, that has been hailed as “a triumph,” “a game-changer for Pärt scholarship,” and “a must-read for any listener or performer of Pärt’s music.”
On Saturday, March 14, 2020, St. Vladimir’s Seminary (SVOTS) Alumnus Dn. Basil Crivella was ordained to the holy priesthood. Priest Basil was ordained at St. Nicholas Orthodox Church, Mentor, OH, by the hand of His Grace, The Right Reverend Paul (SVOTS Class of 1994), bishop of Chicago and the Midwest (OCA).
Father Basil studied in St. Vladimir's Master of Divinity (M.Div.) program from 2016 to 2019. He holds an associate's degree in Liberal Arts from Westmoreland Community College. Before studying at SVOTS, Fr. Basil served seven and a half years on active duty military service with the United States Coast Guard, taking part in search and rescue along with law enforcement operations on both Lake Michigan and in the Caribbean Sea, and he served as the logistics petty officer at a search and rescue station on Lake Erie. Father Basil, his wife, and their three children were received into the Orthodox Church while he was serving with the Coast Guard in Fairport, Ohio.
Since leaving SVOTS, Fr. Basil has been attached to St. Nicholas, his home parish. He is awaiting confirmation of his first parish assignment as a priest.
The St. Vladimir’s Seminary community wishes Fr. Basil, Matushka Rose, and their children many years!
Ancient Faith Radio (AFR)’s popular program Ancient Faith Today is back with a new host, Archpriest Thomas Soroka, an alumnus of St. Vladimir’s Seminary. Father Tom helped re-launch the live, weekly call-in radio show on Tuesday, January 14, 2020.
Ancient Faith Today, which began in 2012, became a staple of AFR’s lineup under former host Kevin Allen, who reposed in the Lord in August of 2018.
“Tonight, as we turn the page on a new chapter of Ancient Faith Today, we dedicate this first show to Kevin’s memory,” began Fr. Tom. “And we take on a challenging subject that was very important to him and, frankly, to all of us: Orthodox unity.”
Tuesday’s episode delved into the topic of Orthodox unity with two other men with strong ties to St. Vladimir’s: Protodeacon Peter Danilchick, a trustee emeritus, and Dr. Charles Ajalat, a former trustee, honorary doctorate recipient, and father of a St. Vladimir’s graduate (Richard Ajalat, ’13).
Fr. Tom Soroka is the pastor of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Mckees Rocks, Pennsylvania, and directs the Pan-Orthodox Choir of Pittsburg. He holds a degree from Duquesne University and was a student in St. Vladimir’s Seminary’s "Collegiate Division" from 1982 to 1984. His other podcasts, The Path and Sermons at St. Nicholas can also be heard on AFR.
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.
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.
