The Catalog of Good Deeds

Prayer requires a certain longing of the heart. Certainly discipline is involved; but, and this is merely my opinion, forcing yourself to say prayers may not be the answer either. People seem to make too big a deal about prayer rules. Like the Sabbath keeping that made some of the Jews miss Christ in their midst, so I think prayer rules sometimes keep us from growing in our relationship with Christ. A prayer rule exists to help us, we do not exist to keep the prayer rule. If my prayer rule is not working, I change it.

The goal of a prayer rule is to produce prayer, not merely to say prayers. Jesus tells us that we are not heard because of our many words in prayer. A prayer rule that is drudgery and continually dry is no prayer rule at all, for it is not producing prayer. Prayer is communion with God, not saying words. Words are useful, they can help us pray; but what our soul longs for is connection —communion — with God. Sometimes (and this may go on for several days at a time) all I can do during my prayer time is stand before my icons and say “Lord have mercy.” I say “Lord have mercy” again and again until my heart is pained and I feel a little sadness, a little longing for God in my heart. If this feeling doesn’t come, then I kiss my icons, ask the forgiveness of Christ and all of the Saints and go on with my day gently repeating “Lord have mercy” and carrying a little sadness that I have not been able to connect with God. Sometimes, I need to read an inspiring book or passage to help me pray. There are times when I spend my whole prayer time reading, which creates a longing in me and produces prayer that stays in my heart throughout the day.

Keep in mind that the “ideal” prayer life that seems to influence most of us is based on a very regulated life, a life based on a monastic pattern. Most of us do not live such a life. And even in a monastery, not everyone attends every service (someone has to be cooking dinner during vespers) and not every season is the same (when the monks have to do hard manual labor, the prayers are greatly shortened, and sleep and food are increased). And yes, even monks fall asleep during services or saying the Jesus Prayer in their cells. We read the stories about saints who after a lifetime of labor (and with their unique graces and calling) are able to keep vigilant prayer alive in their hearts at all times. Who are we? We are beginners. We haven’t even yet begun to learn how to repent. In fact, it is only as we accept our failure, our inability to make ourselves pray, that we can start to know our dependence on God for help. This is where repentance begins: in accepting our failure. So long as we keep saying to ourselves, “I just have to try harder,” we are only extending our miserable delusion. Once we allow our hearts to be broken by our weakness, our lack of love, our inability to pray, then we can begin to find God’s help.

It wouldn’t hurt most of us who struggle in prayer to repeat continually the words of psalm 50, “A broken and a contrite heart You will not despise.” Let your own weakness break your heart, and God will accept that as an offering of much greater worth than any mechanically pumped out prayer rule.

Source: http://holynativity.blogspot.com/2009/11/advice-on-prayer.html

Since the beginning of Christianity, its critics saw it as a spin-off of earlier pagan cults because some elements of Christian worship appeared to be similar to those cults. They wrongly accused Christianity of copying its doctrines or rituals out of earlier polytheistic traditions' handbooks. For instance, they said that the theme of the resurrection of a deity was ostensibly based on the Ancient Egyptian myth of Osiris rising up from the dead every year; the veneration of Theotokos was allegedly rooted in pagan worship of Mother Earth; and the Eucharist was said to have been adopted by Christians from Mithraists. Veneration of icons was no exception. It was wrongly perceived as a particular case of idol worship. How can we counter that?

First, the human race has few universally observed ritual practices. Lighting candles, singing religious hymns, special meals, washing of body parts, and funeral rituals are culturally universal. It's only natural that human religiosity will take similar forms in Christianity. Does it mean that these rituals have the same meaning in pagan cults and in Christianity? Not at all! Moreover, the very fact that these rituals first appeared in polytheistic religions does not prove that Christianity is derived from those religions. Christianity brings back the forgotten original meaning to these common and authentic religious practices. That is why we cannot consider the acts of kissing icons and lighting candles in front of them to be equal to idol worship, no matter how similar they appear.

Secondly, we have to differentiate between veneration (δουλειά) and worship (λατρεία). We worship only God but it is totally fine and acceptable to venerate not only Jesus Christ himself but also the Mother of God and the saints. This is evident from bronze images of Christ made in the 1st century, which were excavated in Palestine. It must be noted that all members of the Church, the Body of Christ, are referred to as "saints", e.g., in the liturgical call, "Holy things to the holy." Our status is further confirmed by the fact that a deacon censes both the icons *and* the parishioners while walking around the church. The Orthodox Christians, even the simplest and the least educated ones, never consider the wooden boards and paints to be the object of their worship; nor do they suppose that the substance of the Body of Christ during his incarnation was identical to the stuff which icons are made of. Saint John of Damascus wrote, "I don't worship the inanimate matter; I worship the Creator of that matter who became incarnate for my sake, who deigned to settle in the matter and thus became my salvation." St. Theodore the Studite adds, "[Deity] is present also in the image of the Cross and other sacred objects, not because they have the same nature, for these objects are not the Divine flesh; but due to their relative connection to the Divine, for they participate in grace and honour." Other theologians have noted that we honour the Bible because of the Word of God that we find in it, and we don't worship the "paper and ink". Likewise, we honour the One whose image is painted, not the paints and planks. The respect that we have for the icon is in fact the respect and honour for the person who is portrayed on that icon.

Thirdly, those who cite "Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image" as the reason for their opposition to icons, forget that Moses also received an order from God to make gold statues of Cherubims and put them by the Ark of the Covenant (see Exodus 25:18-22) and to embroider the curtain that separated the Holy of Holies from the sanctuary in the Tabernacle with images of Cherubims (see Exodus 26:31). We can't help mentioning the brass serpent that the Lord ordered Moses to make so that those who had been bitten by snakes could be healed (see Numbers 21: 8, 9; John 3:14). The brass serpent is seen as the symbol of Jesus. Therefore, as we have seen, only the images of false gods were forbidden. The images of the only true religion were allowed, which is proved by archaeological discoveries in the 1-3rd century synagogues, as well as a bronze icon of Christ found in Palestine and dating back to the 1st century, the age of Apostles.

Finally, if we believe that Jesus Christ is the Word that became flesh; if we think that his incarnation was real and not illusory: then we have to approve the images of the human nature of Jesus. Consequently, veneration of icons is a logical conclusion and a visible expression of Orthodox view of Christ. Opponents of icon veneration might say that by painting icons we either dissect the Divine and the human natures of Christ like Nestorians, or mingle them like Monophysites. Is this claim justified? No, it isn't. We are perfectly aware that the image is not Jesus himself: in fact, the image might not even resemble his facial traits. The icon is a symbol, a sign, a reminder that helps to kindle our faith and multiply our love of God and his saints. The ban on painting and venerating the holy icons is based on Platonic philosophy, which taught that "a body is a cage of the soul," that the dull matter defiles the spirit, and that the spirit can avoid reincarnation only if it eliminates all kinds of connection to the matter. On the contrary, Christianity declares the sanctity of the matter. Jesus ascended to the Heaven and sits to the right of his Father in this human body; He santified waters of his baptism; even his clothes possessed healing powers, as is demonstrated by his healing of a blood-shedding woman. However, the matter is holy not in its own right, not from the outset but solely thanks to its transformation by the Life-Giving Spirit.

Therefore, veneration of icons, which was confirmed as one of the tenets of Orthodox faith during the Seventh Ecumenical Council, is an expression of our faith in the Incarnation and the basis of our faith in holiness and salvation. It is based on the Holy Scripture and the Holy Tradition, so it is praiseworthy and merits all kinds of acceptance. Glory be to our God always, now, and ever, and unto the ages of ages! Amen.

By Fyodor Vaskovsky

The Catalog of Good Deeds

Today the Russian Orthodox Church celebrates the memory of one of the early stars in the pleiades of new martyrs and confessors of the Communist yoke, Metropolitan Benjamin (Kazansky) of Petrograd and Gdovsk, together with Archimandrite Sergei, Yuri, and John.

Hieromartyr Benjamin was born Vasily Pavlovich Kazansky in 1873, in a village near Kargopol, now of Archangelsk province, to the family of Priest Pavel and his wife Maria Kazansky. He was raised in a spirit of piety, and loved to read the Lives of the Saints, contemplating the struggles of the martyrs, and wishing that he too could make that same sacrifice for Christ’s sake. Little could he know during that peaceful time in a quiet village that such an opportunity would indeed arise in his native Orthodox land.

Longing to serve the Church, Vasily entered the Petrozavodsk Seminary and then the Saint Petersburg Theological Academy. As a student, he participated actively in the “Society for the spread of religious and moral enlightenment in the spirit of the Orthodox Church,” and organized talks with workers. In 1895 he received the monastic tonsure with the name Benjamin and was ordained a hierodeacon, and the next year a hieromonk. After graduating from the Academy in 1897, Hieromonk Benjamin was appointed teacher of Holy Scripture at the Riga Theological Academy, then in 1898 the Inspector of the academy in the city of Kholm. A year later he was made inspector of the Saint Petersburg Seminary. In 1902, after being elevated to the rank of Archimandrite, he was appointed rector of the Samara Seminary, and three years later of the Saint Petersburg Seminary.

The scholarly yet pastoral hieromonk Benjamin was called to the hierarchical rank on January 24, 1910, when he was consecrated bishop of Gdovsk, a vicariate of Saint Petersburg, by other future martyrs and confessors such as Metropolitan Vladimir (Bogoyavlensky) and Archbishop Tikhon (Belavin) of Yaroslavl—the future Patriarch of Russia.

Bishop Benjamin became a zealous archpastor, often visiting the poorest and furthest neighborhoods of Saint Petersburg, serving the peoples’ needs like a parish priest, dressed simply in his ryassa with no outer signs of his episcopal rank. He put great effort into saving women from a life of prostitution, preaching to them in the “Society of the Most Pure Theotokos”. His sermons were very effective, and many repented of their sins and changed their lives.

He was always able to reach the hearts of simple folk, and his flock loved him for this, calling him “our batiushka Benjamin”. His evangelical simplicity, compassion, pastoral accessibility, sincere smile and quiet, clear voice endeared him even to those of other faiths.

After the revolution in February, 1917, Bishop Benjamin was chosen by the overwhelming majority of clergy and laity at the diocesan council as Archbishop of Petrograd and Ladoga, and then six months later as Metropolitan of Petrograd and Gdovsk.

Right after his election to the Saint Petersburg cathedra His Eminence Benjamin announced: “I stand for the Church’s freedom. She should be alien to politics, for in the past she suffered much from them. To place a new path upon the Church now would be a great mistake. The most important task right now is to build and improve our parish life.”

In those confusing times it would have been hard to find a man more foreign to politics that Metropolitan Benjamin. He put all his energy into his social programs, and into defending the Orthodox people from the fierce persecutions now encroaching upon them from enemies of the Church. In 1918, the new government published a decree “On the separation of Church from the state and the schools from the Church”, which was everywhere received as a signal to begin the destruction of the Church and its leaders, and to plunder its property. A wave rolled over the county leaving behind it closed church and monasteries, desecrated icons and relics, arrested, tortured, exiled and executed bishops, priests, monks, nuns, and laity. The Church was deprived of its clergy and any means of existence.

After the civil war, in 1921, Russia was stricken by an unprecedented famine amidst the general destruction, and this was used as an excuse to persecute and rob the Church under the slogan, “the proletarian campaign on Church valuables”. In Petrograd, they began this campaign in 1922. “We will give it over ourselves,” said Met. Benjamin, blessing the churches to submit anything of value that was not used in Divine Services to be used to help those in need.

But the authorities were not satisfied with the Metropolitan’s voluntary charity, because their aim was confiscation, and the declaration of Church property as state property—whether or not it was sacred was of no concern to them. By this time a schism had formed of renovationists calling themselves the “Living Church”, and collaborating with the Communist authorities against those faithful to the lawful Patriarch, Tikhon. Although initially there were no arrests in connection with the people’s unrest over the sacrilege, on March 24, 1922, twelve of the schism’s organizers published an article in the Petrograd Pravda accusing the lawful clergy of resisting the decree on confiscation and participating in counter-revolutionary conspiracies. In 1922 Metropolitan Benjamin was arrested, and on June 10 of the same year, 86 people were put on trial.

At his trial, Metropolitan Benjamin was as always simple, calm, and of pure conscience concerning himself and the others. When he was faced with his sentence, he said to the tribunal: “I do not know what sentence you will pass upon me—life or death—yet whatever your pronouncement, I will raise my eyes upward with the same reverence, make the sign of the Cross (here he crossed himself broadly) and say, “Glory to Thee, O Lord God, for all things!”

On June 5, 1922 the tribunal pronounced his sentence, and on the night of August 12-13, Metropolitan Benjamin along with Archimandrite Sergei (Shein), and laymen Yuri Novitsky and Ivan Kovsharov were shot to death outside of Petrograd.

Hieromartyr Archimandrite Sergei (in the world Vasily Pavlovich Shein) was born in 1866 in the village of Kolpina, Tula Province. He had been a member of the State Duma and the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church from 1917-1918, and assistant chairman of the Society of unified Petrograd Orthodox parishes.

Martyr Yuri (Yuri Petrovich Novitsky) was born in 1882 in Umani, Kiev Province. He was a professor of criminal law in Petrograd University, and chairman of the Society of unified Petrograd Orthodox parishes.

Martyr John (Joan Mikhailovich Kovsharov) was born in Odessa. He was a lawyer, and gave legal counsel to the St. Alexander Nevsky Lavra in Petrograd.

The memory of Holy Hieromartyrs Benjamin, Sergei, and martyrs Yuri and John is honored in the feast of the Synaxis of New Martyrs and Confessers of Russia, and separately on this day, July 31/August 13.

Source: http://orthochristian.com/81333.html

In the Orthodox Church, Holy Communion is administered to communicants using a special spoon. Some have asked, doesn’t the 101st canon of the Council of Trullo forbid the use of Communion spoons? And why are the laity not allowed to receive Communion in the hand and from the chalice, as they did at the time of the Ecumenical Councils? Fr. John Whiteford answers these questions about the use of Communion spoons in our Orthodox Liturgy.

The canon in question has nothing to do with Communion spoons. It addressed the practice of some people who, rather than receive Communion in the hand, as was the practice at that time, would make vessels of their own, and would receive Communion in these vessels, thinking it was more pious than to receive it in the hand. Some may also have used these vessels to take some of the Eucharist to their homes. This practice was specifically prohibited by that canon:

“The divine Apostle loudly proclaims the man created in the image of God to be a body of Christ and a temple. Standing therefore, far above all sensible creation, and having attained to a heavenly dignity by virtue of the saving Passion, by eating and drinking Christ as a source of life, he perpetually readjusts both his eternal soul and his body and by partaking of the divine grace he is continually sanctified. So that if anyone should wish to partake of the immaculate body during the time of a Synaxis, and to become one therewith by virtue of transessence, let him form his hands into the shape of a cross, and, thus approaching, let him receive the Communion of grace. For we nowise welcome those men who make certain receptacles out of gold, or any other material, to serve instead of their hand for the reception of the divine gift, demanding to take of the immaculate Communion in such containers; because they prefer soulless (i.e., inanimate) matter and an inferior article to the image of God. In case, therefore, any person should be caught in the act of imparting of the immaculate Communion to those offering such receptacles, let him be excommunicated, both he himself and the one offering them.”

The practice of distributing the Eucharist to the laity with a spoon became the norm because of the practical issue of laity accidentally dropping particles of the Eucharist when communing. If you pay attention when people come up to kiss the cross at the end of the liturgy, and receive the antidoron, you can’t help but notice that there are almost always crumbs on the floor. We should of course make every effort to avoid this, of course, even when it comes to antidoron, but when it comes to the Eucharist, this is an infinitely more serious problem.

The clergy still receive Communion in the hand, and drink directly from the chalice—and they have the benefit of having the Holy Table to do this over, so that if something falls, it falls on the Holy Table, and can easily be consumed. However, even in the Altar, and despite the usual care that is exercised, accidents sometimes still happen. Such things are far more likely to happen outside of the altar.

If we believe that the Church is guided by the Holy Spirit, we have to believe that when it makes a change, like the introduction of the use of Communion spoons, there is a good reason for it. There are those who selectively advocate some ancient practice be revived because, “this is how they did it in the early Church,” but they usually do not advocate a return to the strict penitential system that they had in the early Church. Those who joined the early Church did so at a time when doing so could easily result in their martyrdom, and they were held to a very high standard, and so there are practices that made sense in that context that do not work so well in the context of a Church in which many people, unfortunately, grow up in the Church with a much lower level of piety.

We don’t have to speculate about the results of returning to this practice in our time. We can look at what has happened in the Roman Catholic Church after Vatican II when they began to allow laity to receive Communion in the hand. The result was not an increase of piety, but just the opposite. I know of a pious Roman Catholic who says more cockroaches receive first Communion each week than people, because particles so routinely drop to the floor—and most people do not seem to be concerned about it, either.

No less than Pope John Paul II observed:

“In some countries the practice of receiving Communion in the hand has been introduced. This practice has been requested by individual episcopal conferences and has received approval from the Apostolic See. However, cases of a deplorable lack of respect toward the eucharistic species have been reported, cases that are imputable not only to the individuals guilty of such behavior but also to the pastors of the church who have not been vigilant enough regarding the attitude of the faithful toward the Eucharist” (Dominicae Cenae 11.9).

The wisest course for us is to humbly accept the Tradition as we have received it, and to trust that what the Church has established is for our salvation.

By Fr. John Whiteford

Source: https://preachersinstitute.com/2016/04/02/orthodox-communion-spoons/

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Some Words of Advice about Prayer

Venerating Icons and Worshipping Idols: What Is The Difference?

Parable of the Day: Commiting the Least Dangerous Sin

Parable of the Day: Why God Did not Give Us Wings

St. Benjamin of Petrograd, a New Martyr and the Enemy of the Communist Authorities

About the Usage of Communion Spoons in Orthodox Tradition

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