Fasting of the Tongue

“To commit a murder, besides the not having the person in your power, there are many measures and precautions to take.  A favorable opportunity must be waited for, and a place must be selected before we can put so damnable a design into execution.  More than this, the pistols may miss fire, blows may not be sufficient, and all wounds are not mortal.  But to deprive a man of his reputation and honor, one word is sufficient.  By finding out the most sensitive part of his honor, you may tarnish his reputation by telling it to all who know him, and easily take away his character for honor and integrity.  To do this, however, no time is required, for scarcely have you complacently cherished the wish to slander him, then the sin is effected.”

“Are you here to praise someone and raise him in my esteem?  Then gladly will I give ear and savor your conversation.  But if you intend to speak ill of someone, let me stop now; I cannot stand filth and stench.  What have I to gain by knowing that someone is evil?  Would I not be losing something instead?  Talk to him yourself, and let us mind only our business.”

(St. John Chrysostom)

“The more I try to relate to my protestant friends why I am moving into Orthodoxy, the more I begin to understand just what it is that is drawing me to the Ancient Church.  In a word: Submission.  I am looking for someone, something to whom I can submit (Submission to God is understood).  In my experience, I have always held Scripture to be my final authority.  However, what this really means is that my interpritation of Scripture is my authority.  As Schmemman says, that really amounts to naked reason.  Thus, I find myself submitting to my own reason as I apply it to Scripture.  In short, I am my own authority on my faith because the buck stops with me in the interpretation of Scripture. (The Baptist aversion to creeds and the idea of priesthood of believers feeds off of this idea).  But this is a bad idea.  They say absolute authority corrupts absolutely…well, on the same token, absolute individualism corrupts absolutely.  I must have something external to which I can submit.  I believe this is why God gave the Church apostolic tradition that is extra-biblical (as all of my protestant friends cringe) Extra-biblical means that it is not subject to individual interpretation.  In other words, tradition acts as a check and balance against individual interpretation of scripture.  In the same way, scripture acts as a check and balance of tradition.  The two feed of each other and depend upon each other for stability. ”

From the Blog of EJ – http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=Kyrie_EleisonEJ

Thank you Eric for letting me share your words.

Just for Heidi! Thank you for asking for it, it is one of my favorite descriptions of the Church!!

“The Orthodox Church is evangelical, but not Protestant. It is orthodox, but not Jewish. It is catholic, but not Roman. It isn’t non-denominational – it is pre-denominational. It has believed, taught, preserved, defended and died for the Faith of the Apostles since the Day of Pentecost 2000 years ago.”

http://www.ourlifeinchrist.com/

http://www.ancientfaithradio.com/

Sunday of Orthodoxy

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Rejoicing today in the triumph of Orthodoxy on this first Sunday of Lent, we joyfully commemorate three events: one event belonging to the past; one event to the present; and one event which still belongs to the future.

Whenever we have any feast or joy in the Church, we Orthodox first of all look back — for in our present life we depend on what happened in the past. We depend first of all, of course, on the first and the ultimate triumph — that of Christ Himself. Our faith is rooted in that strange defeat which became the most glorious victory — the defeat of a man nailed to the cross, who rose again from the dead, who is the Lord and the Master of the world. This is the first triumph of Orthodoxy. This is the content of all our commemorations and of all our joy. This man selected and chose twelve men, gave them power to preach about that defeat and that victory, and sent them to the whole world saying preach and baptize, build up the Church, announce the Kingdom of God. And you know, my brothers and sisters, how those twelve men — very simple men indeed, simple fishermen — went out and preached. The world hated them, the Roman Empire persecuted them, and they were covered with blood. But that blood was another victory. The Church grew, the Church covered the universe with the true faith. After 300 years of the most unequal conflict between the powerful Roman Empire and the powerless Christian Church, the Roman Empire accepted Christ as Lord and Master. That was the second triumph of Orthodoxy. The Roman Empire recognized the one whom it crucified and those whom it persecuted as the bearers of truth, and their teaching as the teaching of life eternal. The Church triumphed. But then the second period of troubles began.

The following centuries saw many attempts to distort the faith, to adjust it to human needs, to fill it with human content. In each generation there were those who could not accept that message of the cross and resurrection and life eternal. They tried to change it, and those changes we call heresies. Again there were persecutions. Again, Orthodox bishops, monks and laymen defended their faith and were condemned and went into exile and were covered with blood. And after five centuries of those conflicts and persecutions and discussions, the day came which we commemorate today, the day of the final victory of Orthodoxy as the true faith over all the heresies. It happened on the first Sunday of Lent in the year 843 in Constantinople. After almost 100 years of persecution directed against the worship of the holy icons, the Church finally proclaimed that the truth had been defined, that the truth was fully in the possession of the Church. And since then all Orthodox people, wherever they live, have gathered on this Sunday to proclaim before the world their faith in that truth, their belief that their Church is truly apostolic, truly Orthodox, truly universal. This is the event of the past that we commemorate today.

But let us ask ourselves one question: Do all the triumphs of Orthodoxy, all the victories, belong to the past? Looking at the present today, we sometimes feel that our only consolation is to remember the past. Then Orthodoxy was glorious, then the Orthodox Church was powerful, then it dominated. But what about the present? My dear friends, if the triumph of Orthodoxy belongs to the past only, if there is nothing else for us to do but commemorate, to repeat to ourselves how glorious was the past, then Orthodoxy is dead. But we are here tonight to witness to the fact that Orthodoxy not only is not dead but also that it is once more and forever celebrating its own triumph — the triumph of Orthodoxy. We don’t have to fight heresies among ourselves, but we have other things that once more challenge our Orthodox faith.

Today, gathered here together, Orthodox of various national backgrounds, we proclaim and we glorify first of all our unity in Orthodoxy. This is the triumph of Orthodoxy in the present. This is a most wonderful event: that all of us, with all our differences, with all our limitations, with all our weaknesses, can come together and say we belong to that Orthodox faith, that we are one in Christ and in Orthodoxy. We are living very far from the traditional centers of Orthodoxy. We call ourselves Eastern Orthodox, and yet we are here in the West, so far from those glorious cities which were centers of the Orthodox faith for centuries — Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem, Moscow. How far are those cities. And yet, don’t we have the feeling that something of a miracle has happened, that God has sent us here, far into the West, not just in order to settle here, to increase our income, to build up a community. He also has sent us as apostles of Orthodoxy, so that this faith, which historically was limited to the East, now is becoming a faith which is truly and completely universal.

This is a thrilling moment in the history of Orthodoxy. That is why it is so important for us to be here tonight and to understand, to realize, to have that vision of what is going on. People were crossing the ocean, coming here, not thinking so much about their faith as about themselves, about their lives, about their future. They were usually poor people, they had a difficult life, and they built those little Orthodox churches everywhere in America not for other people but for themselves, just to remember their homes, to perpetuate their tradition. They didn’t think of the future. And yet this is what happened: the Orthodox Church was sent here through and with those poor men. The truth itself, the fullness of the apostolic faith — all this came here, and here we are now, filling this hall and proclaiming this apostolic faith — the faith that has strengthened the universe. And this leads us to the event which still belongs to the future.

If today we can only proclaim, if we can only pray for that coming triumph of Orthodoxy in this country and in the world, our Orthodox faith forces us to believe that it is not by accident but by divine providence that the Orthodox faith today has reached all countries, all cities, all continents of the universe. After that historic weakness of our religion, after the persecutions by the Roman Empire, by the Turks, by the godless atheists, after all the troubles that we had to go through, today a new day begins. Something new is going to happen. And it is this future of Orthodoxy that we have to rejoice about today.

We can already have a vision of that future when, in the West, a strong American Orthodox Church comes into existence. We can see how this faith, which for such a long time was an alien faith here, will become truly and completely universal in the sense that we will answer the questions of all men, and also all their questions. For if we believe in that word: “Orthodoxy,” “the true faith”; if for one moment we try to understand what it means: the true, the full Christianity, as it has been proclaimed by Christ and His disciples; if our Church has preserved for all ages the message of the apostles and of the fathers and of the saints in its purest form, then, my dear friends, here is the answer to the questions and to the problems and to the sufferings of our world. You know that our world today is so complex. It is changing all the time. And the more it changes, the more people fear, the more they are frightened by the future, the morethey are preoccupied by what will happen to them. And this is where Orthodoxy must answer their problem; this is where Orthodoxy must accept the challenge of modern civilization and reveal to men of all nations, to all men in the whole world, that it has remained the force of God left in history for the transformation, for the deification, for the transfiguration of human life.

The past, the present, the future: At the beginning, one lonely man on the cross — the complete defeat. And if at that time we had been there with all our human calculations, we probably would have said: “That’s the end. Nothing else will happen.” The twelve left Him. There was no one, no one to hope. The world was in darkness. Everything seemed finished. And you know what happened three days later. Three days later He appeared. He appeared to His disciples, and their hearts were burning within them because they knew that He was the risen Lord. And since then, in every generation, there have been people with burning hearts, people who have felt that this victory of Christ had to be carried again and again into this world, to be proclaimed in order to win new human souls and to be the transforming force in history.

Today this responsibility belongs to us. We feel that we are weak. We feel that we are limited, we are divided, we are still separated in so many groups, we have so many obstacles to overcome. But today, on the Sunday of Orthodoxy, we close our eyes for a second and we rejoice in that unity which is already here: priests of various national churches praying together, people of all backgrounds uniting in prayer for the triumph of Orthodoxy. We are already in a triumph, and may God help us keep that triumph in our hearts, so that we never give up hope in that future event in the history of orthodoxy when Orthodoxy will become the victory which eternally overcomes all the obstacles, because that victory is the victory of Christ Himself.

As we approach the most important moment of the Eucharist, the priest says, “Let us love one another, that with one mind we may confess….” What is the condition of the real triumph of Orthodoxy? What is the way leading to the real, the final, the ultimate victory of our faith? The answer comes from the Gospel. The answer comes from Christ Himself and from the whole tradition of Orthodoxy. It is love. Let us love one another, that with one mind we may confess . . . confess our faith, our Orthodoxy. Let us, from now on, feel responsible for each other. Let us understand that even if we are divided in small parishes, in small dioceses, we first of all belong to one another. We belong together, to Christ, to His Body, to the Church. Let us feel responsible for each other, and let us love one another. Let us put above everything else the interests of Orthodoxy in this country. Let us understand that each one of us today has to be the apostle of Orthodoxy in a country which is not yet Orthodox, in a society which is asking us: “What do you believe?” “What is your faith?” And let us, above everything else, keep the memory, keep the experience, keep the taste of that unity which we are anticipating tonight.

At the end of the first century — when the Church was still a very small group, a very small minority, in a society which was definitely anti-Christian when the persecution was beginning — St. John the Divine, the beloved disciple of Christ, wrote these words: “And this is the victory, our faith, this is the victory.” There was no victory at that time, and yet he knew that in his faith he had the victory that can be applied to us today. We have the promise of Christ, that the gates of hell will never prevail against the Church. We have the promise of Christ that if we have faith, all things are possible. We have the promise of the Holy Spirit, that He will fill all that which is weak, that He will help us at the moment when we need help. In other words, we have all the possibilities, we have everything that we need, and therefore the victory is ours. It is not a human victory which can be defined in terms of money, of human success, of human achievements. What we are preaching tonight, what we are proclaiming tonight, what we are praying for tonight, is the victory of Christ in me, in us, in all of you in the Orthodox Church in America. And that victory of Christ in us, of the one who for us was crucified and rose again from the dead, that victory will be the victory of His Church.

Today is the triumph of Orthodoxy, and a hymn sung today states solemnly and simply: “This is the Apostolic faith, this is the Orthodox faith, this is the faith of the Fathers, this is the faith that is the foundation of the world.” My dear brothers and sisters, this is also our own faith. We are chosen. We are elected. We are the happy few that can say of our faith, “apostolic,” “universal,” “the faith of our fathers,” “Orthodoxy,” “the truth.” Having this wonderful treasure, let us preserve it, let us keep it, and let us also use it in such a way that this treasure becomes the victory of Christ in us and in His Church. Amen.

Taken from: http://www.schmemann.org/byhim/orthodoxy1985.html

“I am Patrick, a sinner, most unlearned, the least of all the faithful, and utterly despised by many.” “I was like a stone lying in the deep mire; and He that is mighty came and in His mercy lifted me up.”    

“Christ shield me this day: Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ when I lie down, Christ when I arise, Christ in the heart of every person who thinks of me, Christ in the eye that sees me, Christ in the ear that hears me”

  ~From The Breastplate of St. Patrick

            St. Patrick the Bishop of Armagh and Enlightener of Ireland

Saint Patrick, the Enlightener of Ireland was born around 385, the son of Calpurnius, a Roman decurion (an official responsible for collecting taxes). He lived in the village of Bannavem Taberniae, which may have been located at the mouth of the Severn River in Wales. The district was raided by pirates when Patrick was sixteen, and he was one of those taken captive. He was brought to Ireland and sold as a slave, and was put to work as a herder of swine on a mountain.  During his period of slavery, Patrick acquired a proficiency in the Irish language which was very useful to him in his later mission.

He prayed during his solitude on the mountain, and lived this way for six years. He had two visions. The first told him he would return to his home. The second told him his ship was ready. Setting off on foot, Patrick walked two hundred miles to the coast. There he succeeded in boarding a ship, and returned to his parents in Britain.

Some time later, he went to Gaul and studied for the priesthood at Auxerre under St. Germanus. Eventually, he was consecrated as a bishop, and was entrusted with the mission to Ireland, succeeding St. Palladius.  St. Palladius did not achieve much success in Ireland. After about a year he went to Scotland, where he died in 432.

Patrick had a dream in which an angel came to him bearing many letters. Selecting one inscribed “The Voice of the Irish,” he heard the Irish entreating him to come back to them.

Although St. Patrick achieved remarkable results in spreading the Gospel, he was not the first or only missionary in Ireland. He arrived around 432 (though this date is disputed), about a year after St. Palladius began his mission to Ireland. There were also other missionaries who were active on the southeast coast, but it was St. Patrick who had the greatest influence and success in preaching the Gospel of Christ. Therefore, he is known as “The Enlightener of Ireland.”

His autobiographical Confession tells of the many trials and disappointments he endured. Patrick had once confided to a friend that he was troubled by a certain sin he had committed before he was fifteen years old. The friend assured him of God’s mercy, and even supported Patrick’s nomination as bishop. Later, he turned against him and revealed what Patrick had told him in an attempt to prevent his consecration. Many years later, Patrick still grieved for his dear friend who had publicly shamed him.

St. Patrick founded many churches and monasteries across Ireland, but the conversion of the Irish people was no easy task. There was much hostility, and he was assaulted several times. He faced danger, and insults, and he was reproached for being a foreigner and a former slave. There was also a very real possibility that the pagans would try to kill him. Despite many obstacles, he remained faithful to his calling, and he baptized many people into Christ.

The saint’s Epistle to Coroticus is also an authentic work. In it he denounces the attack of Coroticus’ men on one of his congregations. The Breastplate (Lorica) is also attributed to St. Patrick. In his writings, we can see St. Patrick’s awareness that he had been called by God, as well as his determination and modesty in undertaking his missionary work. He refers to himself as “a sinner,” “the most ignorant and of least account,” and as someone who was “despised by many.” He ascribes his success to God, rather than to his own talents: “I owe it to God’s grace that through me so many people should be born again to Him.”

By the time he established his episcopal See in Armargh in 444, St. Patrick had other bishops to assist him, many native priests and deacons, and he encouraged the growth of monasticism.

St. Patrick is often depicted holding a shamrock, or with snakes fleeing from him. He used the shamrock to illustrate the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. Its three leaves growing out of a single stem helped him to explain the concept of one God in three Persons. Many people now regard the story of St. Patrick driving all the snakes out of Ireland as having no historical basis.

St. Patrick died on March 17, 461 (some say 492). There are various accounts of his last days, but they are mostly legendary. Muirchu says that no one knows the place where St. Patrick is buried.  St. Columba of Iona says that the Holy Spirit revealed to him that Patrick was buried at Saul, the site of his first church. A granite slab was placed at his traditional grave site in Downpatrick in 1899.

Icon : http://www.orthodoxengland.btinternet.co.uk/patrick.htm
Text from: http://www.oca.org/ 

Thank you Rayna!

A Word About Church History

Scholars estimate there are over 2600 groups today who lay claim to being the Church, or at least the direct descendants of the Church described in the New Testament. Repeat: 2600!

But for the first thousand years of her history the Church was essentially one. Five historic Patriarchal centers–Jerusalem; Antioch, Rome, Alexandria, and Constantinople– formed a cohesive whole and were in full communion with each other. There were occasional heretical or schismatic groups going their own way, to be sure; but the Church was unified until the 11th century. Then, in events culminating in A.D.1054, the Roman Patriarch pulled away from the other four, pursuing his long-developing claim of universal headship of the Church.

Today, nearly a thousand years later, the other four Patriarchates remain intact, in full communion, maintaining that Orthodox apostolic faith of the inspired New Testament record. The Orthodox Church and her history is described herein, from Pentecost to the present day.

Click on various parts of the timeline for more information. 

Today is Forgiveness Sunday.

Forgive me.

Protopresbyter Alexander Schmemann

Forgiveness Sunday

In the Orthodox Church, the last Sunday before Great Lent – the day on which, at Vespers, Lent is liturgically announced and inaugurated – is called Forgiveness Sunday. On the morning of that Sunday, at the Divine Liturgy, we hear the words of Christ:

Then after Vespers – after hearing the announcement of Lent in the Great Prokeimenon: “Turn not away Thy face from Thy child for I am afflicted! Hear me speedily! Draw near unto my soul and deliver it!”, after making our entrance into Lenten worship, with its special memories, with the prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian, with its prostrations – we ask forgiveness from each other, we perform the rite of forgiveness and reconciliation. And as we approach each other with words of reconciliation, the choir intones the Paschal hymns, filling the church with the anticipation of Paschal joy.

What is the meaning of this rite? Why is it that the Church wants us to begin Lenten season with forgiveness and reconciliation? These questions are in order because for too many people Lent means primarily, and almost exclusively, a change of diet, the compliance with ecclesiastical regulations concerning fasting. They understand fasting as an end in itself, as a “good deed” required by God and carrying in itself its merit and its reward. But, the Church spares no effort in revealing to us that fasting is but a means, one among many, towards a higher goal: the spiritual renewal of man, his return to God, true repentance and, therefore, true reconciliation. The Church spares no effort in warning us against a hypocritical and pharisaic fasting, against the reduction of religion to mere external obligations. As a Lenten hymn says:

Now, forgiveness stands at the very center of Christian faith and of Christian life because Christianity itself is, above all, the religion of forgiveness. God forgives us, and His forgiveness is in Christ, His Son, Whom He sends to us, so that by sharing in His humanity we may share in His love and be truly reconciled with God. Indeed, Christianity has no other content but love. And it is primarily the renewal of that love, a return to it, a growth in it, that we seek in Great Lent, in fasting and prayer, in the entire spirit and the entire effort of that season. Thus, truly forgiveness is both the beginning of, and the proper condition for the Lenten season.

One may ask, however: Why should I perform this rite when I have no “enemies”? Why should I ask forgiveness from people who have done nothing to me, and whom I hardly know? To ask these questions, is to misunderstand the Orthodox teaching concerning forgiveness. It is true, that open enmity, personal hatred, real animosity may be absent from our life, though if we experience them, it may be easier for us to repent, for these feelings openly contradict Divine commandments. But, the Church reveals to us that there are much subtler ways of offending Divine Love. These are indifference, selfishness, lack of interest in other people, of any real concern for them — in short, that wall which we usually erect around ourselves, thinking that by being “polite” and “friendly” we fulfill God’s commandments. The rite of forgiveness is so important precisely because it makes us realize – be it only for one minute – that our entire relationship to other men is wrong, makes us experience that encounter of one child of God with another, of one person created by God with another, makes us feel that mutual “recognition” which is so terribly lacking in our cold and dehumanized world.

On that unique evening, listening to the joyful Paschal hymns we are called to make a spiritual discovery: to taste of another mode of life and relationship with people, of life whose essence is love. We can discover that always and everywhere Christ, the Divine Love Himself, stands in the midst of us, transforming our mutual alienation into brotherhood. As l advance towards the other, as the other comes to me – we begin to realize that it is Christ Who brings us together by His love for both of us.

And because we make this discovery – and because this discovery is that of the Kingdom of God itself: the Kingdom of Peace and Love, of reconciliation with God and, in Him, with all that exists – we hear the hymns of that Feast, which once a year, “opens to us the doors of Paradise.” We know why we shall fast and pray, what we shall seek during the long Lenten pilgrimage. Forgiveness Sunday: the day on which we acquire the power to make our fasting – true fasting; our effort – true effort; our reconciliation with God – true reconciliation.

Father Alexander Schmemann

Mar. 3, 2005 Unorthodox priest By LAUREN GELFOND FELDINGER

Split personality. Avraham ben Baruch or Father Aleksandr? Photo: Ariel Jerozolimski <A href="http://ads.jpost.com/RealMedia/ads/click_lx.ads/www.jpost.com/Features/7568/Article1/DashCham_article/DashCham_article_html.html/34313162613662613432333065373830?http://www.dashcham.com" target=_new></A>&nbsp; What caused a former Orthodox Jew and son of Holocaust survivors to join the Orthodox Christian priesthood and serve Israel’s Christian immigrants? It wasn’t the typical Holocaust survivor story, if there can be such a thing. Avraham ben Baruch’s mother survived the Majdanek extermination camp in Poland, where her infant son and mother were killed, and his father survived the underground resistance in France. Ben Baruch was born in 1949, to a family of Soviet citizens living in France. Young ben Baruch was encouraged to study and embrace the languages and philosophies of his parents – Talmud, Torah, Jewish literature, Zionism, Hebrew, Yiddish, Russian, Ukrainian – and the language of the people who had just killed some 300 of his relatives: German. While growing up in various western and eastern European countries in the 1950s, it didn’t always make sense to ben Baruch. After all, his traumatized mother would never again utter a word of German or step foot on German soil, where the family had once lived before the war. But one of his most profound memories is of her insisting that, at age eight, his German be flawless and without accent. He was sent to study the language in Austria and in small Bavarian villages. “This is very rabbinic,” he says in reflection, nearly five decades later.” She said, ‘You belong to another generation and you have a duty of reconciliation with the Germans. Your generation must do it.’” The echo of her words would prompt him on the most unlikely journey. At age 24, after studying Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Levinas in Paris, comparative linguistics with a focus on Yiddish in Copenhagen and rabbinic studies in Antwerp, he was walking in Geneva and felt himself drawn into a church. He went in as a curious tourist and left without any special sentiment. But a few months later in Paris, he began a conversion to Christianity. Though this decision baffles both Jews and Christians today, he says it is a decision he simply can’t explain, except to say it is his destiny – and burden. After studying and embracing Orthodox Christianity, he eventually worked his way toward becoming a deacon, or prayer leader, in 1987, until taking the next step to priesthood in 1995, in a quest to have more interaction with the public. As a priest, he not only met with congregants of the Orthodox churches, but taught and lectured on the subject of comparative theology and linguistics across Europe, until he was invited in 1998 to serve Jerusalem’s Greek Orthodox Patriarchate. For more than six years, he has served Slavic-speaking Orthodox Christian Israelis – many of whom, like himself, have Jewish roots. Today at age 56, drinking coffee in a Jerusalem cafe, his personal and family history seems hidden beneath the plain black floor-length robe and pillbox hat of the Greek Orthodox Church. Though he still answers to Avraham, he has adopted his Russian nickname to his new title, Father Aleksandr. Often Israelis stare at him like they are at the zoo, he says. Yet, he says, he has rejected nothing of his roots or identity. Christians, too, are confused by or suspicious of his sprinkling of expressions from Hebrew, Yiddish, Torah and Talmud. But he does not relate to the doctrine of messianic Jews or Jews for Jesus. Until now, he has never spoken publicly about his background. Are you a Jew? I embrace the beliefs and teachings of Christianity, of course, but I wouldn’t say I left anything of my Jewish background or identity. There are many Jews who leave Judaism and become normal Christians and reject their background, and I say no – I continue being what I am. I am a Jew because I commit myself to the Jewish destiny, but it is for the Jews to say if I’m a Jew or not. I’m not dreaming like some Christian groups or individuals that there is “one entity.” Judaism and Christianity are separate. You can call that a contradiction, but it is what it is and I’m not alone. There are many priests of Jewish origin who have helped Israeli society in different ways.

(Continued from page 1 of 5) How did your family deal with your conversion? It’s very difficult to say, but I was considered dead and buried by my family. But 20 years ago, in my mother’s last weeks, she accepted me and allowed me to assist her. I was able to place my father in a Jewish home for the elderly and later to bury them both according to the Jewish rabbinic laws. A lot of converts try to baptize their parents, but I never would have tried to affect their faith. How has being the child of Holocaust survivors affected your sense of destiny? I always felt that we are not “survivors” but “overcomers” of the Shoah. I don’t like the word survivors. No matter what happens, we will survive. To the Christians I am considered first a Jew, and for one reason – because I have dedicated my life to mutual understanding and reconciliation between Jews and Gentiles – and this is a challenge I could easily avoid, but I accept, because it makes sense to do something toward forgiveness and reconciliation. Of all the rites and streams of Christianity, why did you choose to follow the Byzantine, or Eastern Orthodox, rites? I chose Orthodoxy because it’s the closest to the Jewish tradition, although this is totally ignored. Very few Christians are familiar with Judaism; very few Jews know about the Christian world. In Israel, however, there are more and more books published in Hebrew about the eastern Byzantine background of the Holy Land. Some respected but controversial Russian theologians, such as Vladimir Soloviev, pointed out the link and importance of Judaism for the Christian Orthodox faith. How do you personally reconcile differences between Judaism and Christianity? I’m not sure we can; and we need centuries to correct centuries of mutual ignorance. I don’t want to speak of specific differences, because sometimes it is your own opinion, or what you are told to do, and not necessarily the law of Christianity or Judaism. But one thing I will say is I try to reconcile with and respect every single soul living in this country and area. How are you received in Jewish Israeli society? Once I sat in Kikar Zion [in Jerusalem] and some Israeli girls were handing out free giveaways, I don’t remember what. They were giving to everyone but me. So I asked them why. And they were surprised and asked me, “Why does a priest speak Hebrew? Do you feel alone here? Do you make confession?” I answered them, “ashamnu, bagadnu, gazalnu” ["we are guilty, we have betrayed, we have pilfered," the confessions from the Jewish Vidui service] and they stared at me and asked me, “Where do you know those words from?” I replied, “Is the Jewish world not also known to others?” And they were excited and gave me the free gift. I say “shalom” to everyone to make contact. One has to be a real mensch, to be open, to smile, to speak, to not be scared, and if someone rejects me, I will keep trying to make contact. Why did you come to Israel? I always wanted to be in Israel, since childhood. My parents were Zionists. Several relatives 120 years ago bought a lot of land in Haifa, you could say they helped sponsor the state. Over the years, I studied linguistics and theology and traveled a lot around Europe, teaching. At the same time, there was a huge aliya because of the Law of Return, which caused major identity problems for those from the former Soviet Union who are “mixed” – from Jewish-Christian marriages or from Jewish marriages but raised Christian. In communist countries you were always afraid, asking, do you build fences around yourself, or open up to allow more understanding? Here they don’t know where they belong and I want to encourage the way of understanding, not rejection or hate.

(Continued from page 2 of 5)

In 1998, the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate, questioning how to handle these Slavic Christian Orthodox believers with Jewish roots, heard about an Orthodox priest with Jewish roots who spoke Slavic languages. The late Patriarch Diodoros received a letter of recommendation from the Orthodox Church in Europe stating that I knew Israel and the Orthodox faith, and had taught the Jewish roots of the Christian churches, in particular the origin of the services and prayers. The Patriarch and Holy Synod invited me.

I could have come under the Law of Return, too, but I never took anything from the state.

Most of all, I came here for Jewish-Christian reconciliation and because I want to take spiritual care of the Orthodox Christian faithful who arrived in Israel after the fall of communism in the former Soviet Union and other eastern countries: to help them in accordance with their spiritual traditions and help Israel achieve a respectful acculturation of these newcomers.

The Greek Orthodox Church in Israel has primarily Greek clergy and Arab congregants. How do you approach church services for Israelis from the former Soviet Union who don’t relate to the Greek or Arab society and language?
I lead the liturgy 80 percent in Hebrew. For me, this is a moral and cultural decision; I keep away from any political involvement. In my own church in the Old City – St. Nicholas – I pray in Hebrew first, then modern spoken Russian, Ukrainian, some Romanian, Arabic and some Slavonic (Church Russian). I adapt to the spiritual understanding of who is present.

The environment [of the neighborhood] is mostly Arab, but I celebrate mostly in Hebrew because we are here and to help my Israeli congregants with enculturation, to be participants in Israeli society, and not just be Russians and former Soviets. I always explain the cultural context. We read from the Gospels, but I often draw comparisons to the parallel cycle of readings in the weekly Torah portion, and explain “this is the ethics of the culture you are living in.” I explain and compare.

I’m not interested in celebrating only in a specific language because I suppose God accepts every tongue. It is in Talmud Sota 7:1 and you find the exact same expression in the Gospels, Book of Revelation, that “God gathered people from all nations, tongues and races.”

This is much more interesting and challenging, to explain the meaning of the scripture for the present day. Many families are of mixed origin, with Jewish spouses or relatives. The challenge is to link the Jewish way of life that is everywhere with a Christian tradition that was born here. It is better to stress the similarities than to systematically build separate groups.

What are the challenges of the Slavic-speaking immigrants who were raised Christian but have Jewish roots, and how do you advise them?
I have a church, but I’m much more interested in helping newcomers and their children to be normal, involved Israeli citizens, and to be what they are.

They are confused and conflicted about their identity and they need to be at ease. I encourage them not to reject who they are, not to reject their family. They don’t know how to behave, who to marry, if they should join the army.

I tell them about the Christian attitude and about the Jewish attitude, and then I advise them about Israeli law, because they don’t know that this is a country where law protecting the individual is very much in force. There are many Russians and Ethiopians, for example, who would not immediately understand this, that they have rights and obligations and have to cope with that.

(Continued from page 3 of 5)

If people say they don’t want to serve in the army, I ask them, who brought you to Israel? Why are you here? And, can you turn the army experience into something positive and something that is your own? I ask them, “Is this your country? Who will serve in the police and army on Shabbat?” I tell them, “Find a way to insert yourselves into your new life; your new country.”

If you live in a country, you are obliged to cope with the local traditions.

Moreover, Christians have the duty to pray, and to respect the authorities and the legacy of the country where they live, as stated in the Gospel.

How does the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate react to your methods and beliefs?
There are people who don’t understand me or who are distrustful and aren’t sure I should stay. But officially from above, I am supported by the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate, they brought me here, and they gave me a church. They see the need, and appointed me officially as head of the Slavic-speaking Israeli communities within the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate.

Our Patriarch Ireneos has a saying that seems relevant: “Siga Siga, Shwaya Shwaya, Le’at Le’at, Now’po Tikhonechku,” that’s “take it slow” in Greek, Arabic, Hebrew and Russian.

What is the attitude in the Greek Orthodox Church to Judaism?
All the Orthodox churches have very deep difficulties for the moment in recognizing the validity of the present-day Jewish tradition as it relates to Christian tradition, for a simple reason: mutual ignorance, or a better word – estrangement. There is a great estrangement between Jews and Christians in Israel, as everywhere, but it is more sensitive in the Holy Land area, where it is hard to disconnect from politics. I’m trying, it’s very humbling, to make a breach through this daily ignorance.

The churches in this area, for historical reasons, were always in contact with the Arabs, so they know and accept many things from the Muslim world, such as liturgical tongue from the Koran. On the Jewish side and regarding Judaism, there is a kind of permanent ignorance. I try to help at least create a connectedness, because the background of the Gospels is entirely based and rooted in the Jewish tradition of the first century.

There are some points that should pave the way for more positive connections: Hebrew and Greek are ancient languages still in use today. The way they adapt to the modern world and choose new words for new objects and ideas is very similar. Faith is often connected to such “sacred tongues.” The fact that they are colloquial speech at present can build a bridge between the vernacular and sacredness.

As well as other writings, the Greek Orthodox Church, as most Orthodox Christian churches, reads the Tanach, or official biblical translation into Greek made by the Septuagint, the 70 Jewish Elders in Alexandria. In this way, they do recognize the full validity of the Jewish text, thus traditional understanding of the Tanach. Also, the famous translation and even the language of the New Testament are full of Semitisms, just as the Talmud is full of Greek words.

How do the Jews and Christians of Israel react to your approach to reconciliation?
There is a mutual ignorance, or a kind of blindness which can be very aggressive in both directions. For example, if I mention that “Shema Yisrael” appears three times in the Gospels by Jesus, most Jews will say that they don’t believe that the Gospels contain such sacred Hebrew words; most Christians will say this doesn’t refer to the Jews or Judaism, and should be read as an interpretation of the Church Fathers. The quest is to pave a narrow way to an encounter for the people who arrived here, especially from communist countries, many of them intermingled and from mixed backgrounds. In communist countries you never say the truth and never speak.

(Continued from page 4 of 5)

The great aliya from the former Soviet Union included so many Christians from countries where Eastern Christianity and Judaism had lived on very similar spiritual experiences, and when it will be possible to compare and study, say the Lubavitch or Breslov or different traditions in the churches, that will make sense because it affects so many congregants and their understanding of the culture here. And somehow it opens the gates of reconciliation.

Why did your sense of duty towards reconciliation lead to becoming a Christian priest, rather than a rabbi or Jewish activist?
I do believe in the Christian Orthodox creed, though never explain myself. On the other hand, Jews and Christians need “living bridges,” able to counteract what has been either destroyed by hatred or suspicion.

I chose the Christian way, which implies a lot awareness of the risks to be rejected by both Jews and Christians.

Rabbi Leo Baeck, chief rabbi of Germany and concentration-camp survivor, once wrote that “seldom has conversion [from Judaism] showed a spirit of courageous sacrifice.”

My path has included sacrifice. Now, everything I do is not what I would have decided, but is the achievement of a spiritual call. It’s beyond my will.

Taken From:

http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=JPost/JPArticle/ShowFull&cid=1109820000769&apage=1