The Catalog of Good Deeds

By Fr. Sergius Nezhbort

We keep preparing for the spiritual life but never embark on it. We are waiting for the best time or the most appropriate day. We expect that on Monday (or as soon as the Great Lent begins) we will finally be able to do something but for now, we feel that we aren’t prepared enough. We may spend years—or our whole lives—waiting for something to happen. That is why we shouldn’t be waiting for the most beneficial time to start a spiritual life. The best time is now. Our spiritual life may not be as heroic as the lives of St Anthony the Great or St Macarius the Great. It may be way simpler. First and foremost, you should attune to the right wave.

Sometimes people are busy doing something but gradually lose respect and reverence for what they do. They bake prosphoras, paint icons, and embroider vestments. At first, they get up early in the morning thinking, “I’m going to do great things today!” Unfortunately, when you keep doing those great things for years, they turn into a monotonous routine and you stop seeing the beauty that you used to admire because you are as accustomed to it as fish is to the water. The beauty still exists but that person doesn’t notice it because he is wrongly attuned.

You should keep tuning yourself in and inspiring yourself. Say to yourself “This day is going to be the day when I am finally able to do something no matter how small or insignificant it might seem. Even if I don’t want to do it right now, it is going to be beneficial for me in the long run.” There was a sister who came to me for advice (I hope I don’t let out her secret), and she told me, “They’ve invited me to sing in the choir early in the morning. I think I should decline the invitation because I don’t want to get up so early.” I exclaimed, “My dear sister, praise the Lord that someone needs you so much that they invited you to sing with them. You could be sitting around in your house or sleeping till lunch but it would mean that no one needs you.”

I mean, thank God that people still need us. If anyone asks for your help today, rejoice and say to yourself, “Isn’t it great that someone still needs me?” And hurry up. This is what is going to make you happy. You’ll be wrong if you respond to an invitation with “Oh I wish you didn’t call me! I’m so tired and busy…”

Whenever the Lord calls us to do anything, let’s do it to the best of our ability. That’s when our spiritual life will flourish.

June 12, 2018

St. Elisabeth Convent

When God created Adam and Eve, He gave them two commandments: (1) to tend and keep the garden, and (2) to abstain from eating the forbidden fruit. Both of these commandments were ways of practising asceticism. There were further instances of asceticism in the Old Testament, for example, with Jonah and the Ninevites.

In the New Testament, we read about the ascetical life of St John the Baptist. Christ Himself fasted for forty days prior to starting his ministry, and at other times, he would retreat at night to pray. He had stated that his followers were to fast as well (Matthew 9:15). The early Christians also gave emphasis to fasting and prayer (e.g., Acts 10:30, 13:2-3, 27:21). Asceticism was taken up in full fervour by those who left the cities to go to the deserts as monks, nuns or hermits. Countless Saints have been formed by the ascetic tradition, which has been preserved in the Orthodox Church.

But what is asceticism? Asceticism consists of spiritual labours that include prayer, fasting, prostrations, vigils, hardships or canons of various sorts, and contemplation. Acts of asceticism combine physical undertakings in conjunction with focusing the heart and mind towards God. Why fast? Why subject the body to such exercises? How does asceticism help? And is it just for monks and nuns? The purpose of our lives is deification, which means to become saints. In order to be deified, we need to be illumined with Christ. And in order to be illumined, we need to be cleansed from our spiritual stains; those blotches on our souls separate us from the love of God.

Those stains are our sins; our bad habits and evil inclinations. Ascetic practices are the methods of cleansing our hearts. They are our gymnasium; the training program for the spiritual Olympics, which is the great and final judgement. They are the true and trusted method of cleansing the body, mind, heart and soul. Asceticism is the antidote to the idolatries of materialism and egotism that pervades our contemporary life.

Asceticism is not the goal of the spiritual life but simply the method. Asceticism is not about building “points” or achievements of spiritual feats; such an approach often leads to pride. Instead, it is the product of our repentance. We remember the example of Zacchaeus, whose repentance was realised though his almsgiving and hence his personal deprivation. And just as an athlete requires a coach to guide them to train and preparing correctly, any ascetical endeavour requires spiritual coaching. These coaches are our spiritual fathers.

Without such guidance, our ascetical efforts are likely to miss the mark. Whilst monks and nuns have very specific methods of asceticism, we too can benefit from the ascetical phronema, or mindset. We can try and live simply, without excesses. We can try to observe the prescribed fasts of the Church. We can attend Church services as much as possible. We can practise almsgiving. We can familiarise ourselves with the prayer rope (κοµποσκοίνι) and the Jesus Prayer. And as stated, these efforts need to be guided by our spiritual father.

When done properly, asceticism gives us the wings to soar into the embrace of God’s love. We thus pray that the good Lord inspires and guides us to espouse an appropriate ascetical phronema. Amen.

Source: https://www.lychnos.org/why-does-the-orthodox-church-value-asceticism/

According to the Church tradition, Joachim and Anna, the pious spouses and the parents of Virgin Mary, fulfilled their pledge and devoted their child to God’s service. The tradition states that in the age of 3, Virgin Mary was brought from Nazareth, where She lived with Her parents, to the Temple of the Lord in Jerusalem. There She was met by the archpriest, and many Church authors state that it was Zachariah, the father of John the Forerunner. To everyone’s surprise, Virgin Mary, Who was only 3 years old, overcame that 15-stairs obstacle on Her way to the Temple and Zachariah’s arms, without any fear or parents’ support, being led only by the Holy Spirit.

Then, as certain Church authors write, on inspiration from above, Zachariah decided to bring Mary to the Holy of Holies, where according to the Law, only the archpriest was permitted to enter and only once a year after he had made sacrifices for his own sins and the sins of the people. Was it so for real? Could the archpriest violate the Law so seriously? He was not allowed to enter the Holy of Holies at the wrong time and could not bring a girl there: she was not just prohibited from entering the Holy of Holies, but even could not enter the sanctuary, which was a special place for priests in the Temple, and had to stay in the women’s yard? We do not know the exact answer. The Church tradition accepts the story about Mary’s entry to the Holy of Holies of the Jerusalem Temple, although the canonical Gospels say nothing about that. In general, the early years of Virgin Mary were summed up well by St. Jerome of Stridon: “If someone asked me about how the Holy Virgin spent Her youth, I would answer him: only God and archangel Gabriel, Her constant guardian, know that”.

However, what does it all mean for us? Sure, the Holy Virgin had Her own great mission, and the Lord prepared for Her a very special way of life and a very special service in the work of the humankind’s salvation. Through prayer and obeying God’s word, Virgin Mary had to grow so high spiritually that she became worthy to be the Throne of the King, the Temple for God’s Spirit, the Ark of the Covenant, the One from Whom the Bread of life would grow – the Manna that would grant us immortality and resurrection.

We can take this ancient and great event as a lesson for us all. Virgin Mary ascended 15 stairs that led to the Temple of Solomon in order to become the Mother of the Word. While raising those stairs, ancient Jews were singing certain psalms, in which they glorified God and with which they prepared their souls for even more sincere prayer in the Temple.

The same we can say about us. We should not just wait for God’s gifts and grace, but we should do our best to come to God, to climb these stairs of virtues so that we can soften and prepare our hearts for God’s Spirit that wants to consecrate us. Let us lift up our hearts! This is the sense of the Orthodox teaching about synergy – the collaboration of the man and God in the work of our salvation. Virgin Mary was not just chosen from the beginning of ages to become the Mother of the Word. She had to work a lot living by God’s commandments: “remembering without ceasing your work of faith, labor of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ in the sight of our God and Father” (1 Thessalonians 1:3).

The same concerns us, if we really want to fulfill God’s words: “Who is My mother and who are My brothers?” And He stretched out His hand toward His disciples and said, “Here are My mother and My brothers! For whoever does the will of My Father in heaven is My brother and sister and mother” (Matthew 12:48-50).

So, we all are called upon to become the vessels for the Word. Through following the Father’s will, through preaching Gospel with our own lives, through climbing the stairs of virtues that the Holy Theotokos has ascended in the beginning of Her life, we are called upon to give life to Christ in other people’s hearts, bringing them to the wonderful Light of Christ.

The word of St. Gregory Palamas:

“The High Priest, seeing that this child, more than anyone else, had divine grace within Her, wished to set Her within the Holy of Holies. He convinced everyone present to welcome this, since God had advanced it and approved it. Through His angel, God assisted the Virgin and sent Her mystical food, with which She was strengthened in nature, while in body She was brought to maturity and was made purer and more exalted than the angels, having the Heavenly spirits as servants. She was led into the Holy of Holies not just once, but was accepted by God to dwell there with Him during Her youth, so that through Her, the Heavenly Abodes might be opened and given for an eternal habitation to those who believe in Her miraculous birthgiving.

So it is, and this is why She, from the beginning of time, was chosen from among the chosen. She Who is manifest as the Holy of Holies, Who has a body even purer than the spirits purified by virtue, is capable of receiving ... the Hypostatic Word of the Unoriginate Father. Today the Ever-Virgin Mary, like a Treasure of God, is stored in the Holy of Holies, so that in due time, (as it later came to pass) She would serve for the enrichment of, and an ornament for, all the world. Therefore, Christ God also glorifies His Mother, both before, and also after His birth.

We who understand the salvation begun for our sake through the Most Holy Virgin, give Her thanks and praise according to our ability. And truly, if the grateful woman (of whom the Gospel tells us), after hearing the saving words of the Lord, blessed and thanked His Mother, raising her voice above the din of the crowd and saying to Christ, “Blessed is the womb that bore Thee, and the paps Thou hast sucked” (Luke 11:27), then we who have the words of eternal life written out for us, and not only the words, but also the miracles and the Passion, and the raising of our nature from death, and its ascent from earth to Heaven, and the promise of immortal life and unfailing salvation, then how shall we not unceasingly hymn and bless the Mother of the Author of our Salvation and the Giver of Life, celebrating Her conception and birth, and now Her Entry into the Holy of Holies?

Now, brethren, let us remove ourselves from earthly to celestial things. Let us change our path from the flesh to the spirit. Let us change our desire from temporal things to those that endure. Let us scorn fleshly delights, which serve as allurements for the soul and soon pass away. Let us desire spiritual gifts, which remain undiminished. Let us turn our reason and our attention from earthly concerns and raise them to the inaccessible places of Heaven, to the Holy of Holies, where the Mother of God now resides.

Reflections in the Church liturgical tradition:

Kontakion — Tone 4:

The most pure Temple of the Savior; the precious Chamber and Virgin; the sacred Treasure of the glory of God, is presented today to the house of the Lord. She brings with her the grace of the Spirit, therefore, the angels of God praise her: “Truly this woman is the abode of heaven.”

End of Part II

To be continued…

Click here to see full infographics.

In this commentary series on the Divine Liturgy I would like examine the original transition from the so-called “Liturgy of the Catechumens” (i.e. the first part of the service to which catechumens were welcomed) to the so-called “Liturgy of the Faithful” (i.e. the second part of the service from which catechumens were excluded and to which only the communicant faithful were welcomed). As we saw in my previous commentary on the Liturgy, the Byzantine liturgical developments have displaced this transition somewhat: originally the catechumens were prayed for and sent out immediately after they were prayed for after the Gospel reading and the sermon. The original intercessions of the Church for the world were only offered after the catechumens had departed. The insertion of the Litany of Fervent Supplication before the Litany of the Catechumens (our present arrangement) disturbs this original arrangement, dislodging the original transition. The original beginning of the Liturgy of the Faithful came not after the sermon, but after the dismissal of the catechumens. It began with the prayers of intercession for the world (what we now call “the Great Litany”) and made a final visual transition as the clergy approached the altar.

We must try to imagine what the Liturgy looked like during the time of Chrysostom and of Maximus the Confessor a couple of centuries later. In that time while the catechumens were being prayed for and dismissed, and then as the prayers of intercession were offered, the deacons exited the church through the north door to enter the little building adjacent to it where the holy vessels were kept. There they gathered up the bread and wine, the chalices, cloths, spoons, spears, and everything needed for the Eucharist and came back with them to the altar, where the episcopal celebrant was waiting for them. While they were gong, the bishop and his presbyters were preparing themselves for the Eucharist: they washed their hands and moved to take their places around the altar. Today the priestly celebrant stands at the altar for the entire service, but originally their place during the readings was sitting on their seats in the far east end of the apse, on the synthronon. Thus the transition from the service centered on the Gospel to the service centered on the Eucharist had a distinctly visual component, for one could observe the clergy leave their seats where they had sat throughout the readings to gather around the altar table.

The prayers accompanying this transition express what they are doing, and may be aptly described as prayers of access to the altar. Today these prayers are mistitled “The Prayers of the Faithful”, since they come at the place where the Prayers of the Faithful for the world—i.e. the Great Litany—once stood. But they are clearly not the prayers of the people, but the private devotional prayers of the clergy. Even a quick look at the prayers themselves reveals this: the clergy pray that God who “have accounted us worthy to stand even now before Your holy altar” may “enable us whom You have placed in this Your service, blamelessly and without offence to call upon You at all times and in every place”. The second prayer asks that God would “grant us to stand blameless and without condemnation before Your holy altar” and would “grant also to those who pray with us [i.e. the laity] growth in life and faith and spiritual understanding”. The silent prayer which the celebrant offers while the Cherubic Hymn is being sung says the same: “Enable me who am endowed with the grace of the priesthood to stand before this, Your holy Table, and perform the sacred mystery of Your holy and pure Body and precious Blood”. Yet another prayer, offered after the Great Entrance has taken place, is another prayer of access to the altar: “Accept also the prayer of us sinners, and bring us to Your holy altar, enabling us to offer unto You gifts and spiritual sacrifices for our sins and for the errors of the people”.

Why such a plethora of prayer all begging the same thing? Because it is a great and fearful thing for mortal man to stand before the consuming Fire of the holy God. We tend to imagine that a church service is simply a matter of us on earth sending our prayers “upstairs”, and launching our supplications to heaven. It is much scarier than that: it is a matter of inviting the Lord of all, before whom even the glorious cherubim and the fiery seraphim veil their faces in awe, to come “downstairs” and to dwell in our midst. “Who among us can dwell with the devouring fire?” asked the sinners of Zion with trembling (Isaiah 33:14). Who indeed? Yet we sinners in the Eucharist invite the devouring Fire into our midst, inviting a collision of sinful man with the holy God. In this collision (with the clergy in the front seats—hence all those prayers of access to the altar), we take a tremendous risk. Some found this to their cost, as St. Paul reminded his Corinthian converts who received unworthily (1 Corinthians 11:30). But if we all approach in penitence, in humility, forgiving others with contrite hearts and asking for our own forgiveness, this collision does not destroy us, but heal us. We are not consumed by the devouring fire, but illumined, warmed, transformed. These prayers of access to the altar reveal that the Eucharist to which we now transition is a daring epiclesis, invoking the fire of God upon us and inviting into our midst both judgment and salvation.

This Eucharist is not only a collision, but also a coalescing, as heaven joins with earth. In the days of Chrysostom and Maximus, the gifts of bread and wine were brought into the church to the accompaniment of a psalm—almost certainly Psalm 24:7-10. It was an obvious choice, since the psalm speaks not only of the Lord of glory coming in (i.e. Christ coming to us in the Eucharist through the Chalice), but also of doors and gates. What better psalm could serve for the procession as it re-entered the nave through the doors and gates leading to and from the sacristy outside? And the refrain of the psalm expressed the nature of the Eucharist which followed—originally the refrain was simply a triple “Alleluia”, but later was added to it the words “Let us who mystically represent the cherubim and who sing the thrice-holy hymn to the life-creating Trinity now lay aside all earthly cares that we may receive the King of all who comes invisibly upborne by the angelic hosts”. The refrain was sung over and over between the verses of the psalm until the procession reached the altar and placed the gifts upon the table. (Eventually the psalm dropped out, leaving the refrain all by itself, which was later split in half in mid-sentence to allow for intercessions during the procession.)

But however it is now sung, the words of the refrain reveal the true nature of the Eucharist as a joining of heaven and earth, an intersection of time and eternity. It is not simply a matter of us on earth singing like the cherubim while the cherubim themselves sing in heaven. No: Christ comes upborne by those angelic hosts, and we represent the cherubim by giving audible earthly expression to their spiritual songs as they accompany Christ as He comes to us in the Eucharist. Heaven joins with earth, and earth is lifted up to heaven. That is what the celebrant means when he says to the people to “Lift up your hearts!”—he is not exhorting them to cheer up, but to ascend to heaven. It is easier than it sounds, for in the Eucharist heaven comes down to us on earth. We serve and receive the Eucharist with the angels of heaven, with the saints, and with all the faithful who have gone before. Our Christian dead may indeed be described as “the dearly departed”, but in the Eucharist we find that they have not departed very far. They are with Christ, and so with us as well.

All this is revealed in this original transition to the Liturgy of the Faithful. That Liturgy is a collision and a coalescing, and it brings the potential for both judgment and salvation into our very midst.

By Fr. Lawrence Farley

Source: https://blogs.ancientfaith.com/nootherfoundation/commentary-divine-liturgy-transitioning-eucharist/

Brother Oleg Krivenkov has passed away but many people still remember him and pray for his blissful repose. Here is his testimony of his encounter with God, which is the first in our new series titled “Our Brothers” devoted to the lives of the residents of the Men’s Rehabilitation center of St. Elisabeth Convent.

My journey to God began when I spent my summer holidays in the village where my grandmother lived. She used to walk to a church in Logoisk every Sunday, and she would always take me with her. My parents were Communists. My father was a police officer, and my mother was a boss in a project institute. Maybe they did believe in God but they could not practice their faith openly. It turned out that I found myself in jail. I was sentenced to death for stealing extremely large amount of state property. It was a felony in the Soviet times, and now it is considered to be a legal business. My father abandoned me in order to rescue his career, and my mother divorced him because of that. I was only 22, I had finished my army service not long before and had got married. And then I was sentenced to death. Nowadays priests are allowed to visit prisons and talk with prisoners; they can give presents to the prisoners for the feasts, but in those times they were only allowed to visit those on death row. When a priest entered my cell, I did not care who came to me. “Desperate” is a weak word to describe how I felt. I was simply overwhelmed and numb. I wanted all this nightmare to vanish so that I could go to the different world as soon as possible. It was because the conditions in the death row were inhumane. There were no hygiene facilities in jail altogether. Toilet and refectory were all in one room. One had to sit around in handcuffs all the time, being under permanent control. Usually, there are two prisoners in a cell but in the death row, you are alone in your cell.

The priest gave me a pocket-size Bible; or maybe, it was not a Bible, I can't be sure now. He said,“Read *Our Father*, *Hail, Mary*, and the Creed. Ask God to help you.”

I made an appeal against the sentence, and my mother wrote to the High Court. I started to pray. It was not because I believed in God: I simply believed that a priest would not lie. This trust was ingrained in me since my childhood: my grandmother had taught me that I could always trust priests.

My appeal was allowed in three months. They changed my sentence to fifteen years, and one month thereafter, there was a second hearing of my case, and I was sentenced to nine years in high security. I had spent four years in jail when the construction of churches was finally allowed in prison camps. A room for a church was allocated in our prison camp as well. I went there, lit a candle, thanked the Lord, and that was all.

And then, there was prison, prison, and prison… If a person is a believer, he is alone there. Nowadays one can practise his beliefs openly, and there are priests who visit the prisoners. I do not know how people would react in those times if anyone admitted that he believed in God. That guy would not survive, they would mock him to death.

I do not recall being drawn to the church at that time, like I am now. For instance, when I was waiting for a parcel, I would pray, “Lord, help me to receive it soon!” I would also pray for my mother to come and to be protected from evil. “Lord help me!” And I would always say, “Thank You, Lord.”

Naturally, I had faith deep inside my soul. When I was released, I went to church together with my mother. I divorced my wife. I started stealing things. If only one gets jailed once, it is highly likely that he will be jailed again after the first term. You get to know people in jail, you become a part of their community, and there is a very specific community in prison. I was in jail seven times, twenty-five years in total. Each time I was released, I spent a month or two at home, drinking and stealing, and then I went back to prison. I had no time for God.

Last time I was released in 2005, I went to a substance abuse treatment center in order to have my name removed from their register. I saw the Convent, entered the Convent's yard, and talked with some people there. I thought, “I could stay here for some time.” Besides, local police officers started paying too much attention to me. Whenever someone stole anything, they would come to me. I was about to be jailed again. They would arrest me for no reason.

At first, everyone comes here in order to save their bodies. Some people hide from the police, some try to escape cold and hunger, some try to get rid of alcohol addiction. One needs time in order to be able to understand anything. Father Andrew used to say, “If we have no money, God will give it to us.” I thought, “What are you talking about, Father? Who will give money?” And then I saw that a church was built. Where did they get the money from? Then they built the dormitory. It took me three or four years to finally understand that Father Andrew was right. Now everything is fine, I am an acolyte in the church.

Sometimes I do not feel like going to church – maybe, it is because of my age, or because of something else. It is hard to stand for one and a half hours. Sometimes I stand during the entire service, murmur the chants to myself along with the choir and do not even notice how time flies. Everything is fine, praise be to God.

I do not want to return to my past life. When I feel like drinking, I come to Father Andrew and say, “I need to see my doctor. Please give me a sick leave for three days.” I leave the rehab, drink some wine, and come back. Father Andrew knows, of course, that I lie to him but he allows me to go.

Recently, I decided that I do not need those drinking days-off any longer. Again, this might be because of my age…

When you consider the life and the actions of Brother Oleg during the last years of his life, it is hard to imagine that the man had been sentenced to death. We hope that his soul now stands prayerfully in front of God's throne…

July 23, 2018

St. Elisabeth Convent

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The Spiritual Life and How to Be Attuned To It

Why Is Asceticism so Important in Orthodox Tradition?

The Stairs to Holiness: The Entry of Virgin Mary into the Temple

From the Liturgy of the Catechumens to the Liturgy of the Faithful

Personal Stories of Our Brothers: Rescued From The Death Row

Parable of the Day: How Pride Leads Us to Insanity

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