I have been reading many of the comments posted on this topic, both on this blog and others. At first, I was somewhat sympathetic to the dominant consensus that the refusal to rebuild the building used by this congregation was, at most, a grave mistake, and at the least, a slight to the Christian Orthodox witness. However, after some serious thought, and several questions left unanswered, I have taken a different view of the matter.

1. The witness of Orthodox Christianity is not solely tied to a building. The church building is a place where an assembly of faithful meet. The witness of the Faith is the action and fervent devotion of this assembly of people.

2. With that in mind, I have to pose the questions, which probably have been asked, “How many faithful does this parish community assemble each Lord’s Day and how active is their witness to the Faith in this location throughout the week?”

The answer to these questions, in my opinion, is the basis upon which the need to rebuild St. Nicholas Church should be determined. If the doors are closed on Sunday noon, and not opened until the following weekend, then I’m not sure the Orthodox witness is being served. And if it is possible to relocate the parish base to ensure a continuation of this witness, then why not do it.

Fr. Gregory (Francis) DesMarais

an Orthodox Priest-monk

When Patriarch Kirill celebrates Divine Liturgy, sound amplifiers make every word he utters audible in every corner of the church – including the Eucharistic prayers that priests usually speak quietly at the altar during the main part of the service.For a long time, Eucharistic prayers said aloud have been a mark of liberalism in the Russian Orthodox Church. In Russia, few priests had the bishops’ authorization to do so, and conservatives regarded the practice as inadmissible. But Patriarch Kirill resorted to high technologies to resolve the controversy – no one can accuse him of articulating those prayers loudly. At the same time, everyone can hear them. Thus the service becomes more intelligible and parishioners feel more closely involved in it.

 Apparently, the late Russian Patriarch Alexy II did something similar: Up to Patriarch Alexey’s time, it was common almost everywhere to partake of the Holy Mysteries of Christ very rarely, and people were not given communion on Nativity, Theophany, and Pascha at all. Patriarch Alexey, from the first day of his patriarchal ministry to the last, whenever he had the strength, himself communed everyone who strived to come to him to the very last person. He blessed people to commune often as well as on the feasts, and during the celebration of the divine liturgy he recited all prayers aloud. At some point, probably from over tiredness, he started to have problems with his voice and microphones began to be used. Due to that, probably not without God’s Providence, everyone who was standing in the church could hear the patriarch reading the priestly prayers in the altar and he was reading them in an absolutely marvelous way: with unusual simplicity, magnificence, and with some sort of inexpressibly beautiful intonation. Thus, the patriarchal liturgy became accessible, in much more fullness, to all the worshippers.

The following is an article from the publication entitled “Jacob’s Well,” the journal of the Orthodox Church in America, Diocese of New York and New Jersey. It will serve as a launching point for those who wish to pursue further the study of this topic. It is hoped that once again, soon, the proclamation of the wondrous acts of salvation which are recorded and listed in the Anaphora of the Divine Liturgy will be audibly recounted at each celebration of the Liturgy.

 Saying “Amen” to Our Story
By Fr. John Shimchick

 It began in the middle of the sixth century as a liturgical innovation. The Emperor Justinian had learned that certain priests throughout Constantinople and its provinces were beginning to recite Eucharistic and baptismal prayers silently (in an inaudible voice). He protested vigorously and, as an effort in 565 to confront this and other abuses in the life of the Church, issued his Novella 137, part of which stated:

Moreover we order all bishops and priests to say the prayers used in the divine oblation and in holy baptism not inaudibly, but in a voice that can be heard by the faithful people, that the minds of those who listen may be excited to greater compunction. [1]

Despite these efforts, Justinian was unable to stop this practice. This result “opened the way to a fundamental change not only in liturgical practice but in popular Eucharistic piety.”[2] From this time on, a more allegorical understanding of the liturgy was developed. Each action, which earlier had sometimes only practical significance, now acquired other meanings, often related to the life of Christ: the first entrance as his public ministry, the great entrance as his burial. Moreover, where the vision of the liturgy from its initial descriptions in the First Apology of St. Justin the Martyr (155 AD, Sections 65 & 67) had stressed the action of what the faithful (the clergy and laity) did together, emphasizing the words “us and we,” there now developed ­ while using the same words – a vision of what the priest does in front of the people, giving his every action a symbolic meaning. [3]

Also, whereas St. John Chrysostom could write that, “There are cases when a priest does not differ from a layman, notably when one approaches the Holy Mysteries,”[4] it would now be possible to show how a “vision” of separation grew between the clergy and laity, a vision which would have theological, sacramental, and even architectural dimensions. In reflecting on his experiences of worship in the Russian Orthodox Church, Fr. Alexander Schmemann wrote in his Journal that, “During the service, everything which could reach the consciousness of the faithful is carefully hidden from them; any semblance of meaning.” (March 15, 1976).

Why should the Eucharistic prayers be heard by everyone? It is important because within these prayers the Christian Story, our Story is announced and affirmed. In St. Justin’s account of the liturgy mentioned earlier when “bread is brought, and wine and water, the president similarly sends up prayers and thanksgivings to the best of his ability, and the congregation assents, saying the Amen.” (section 67)

To use the Hebrew word, “Amen,” is to say, “This is true. So be it. Yes.” It is to say Yes, in Jesus Christ, “For all the promises of God find their Yes in him,” says St. Paul (2 Cor. 1:19-20). To say, “Amen,” affirms the desire to become one’s true self in Christ. St. Augustine wrote, “To that which you are ­ say Amen and thus seal it with your answer.” When the congregation says, “Amen,” at the end of the Eucharistic prayers it remembers and affirms all that God has done and will continue to do in the ongoing Story of His People.

The prayers offered by the bishop at this time were spontaneous, delivered “to the best of his ability.” Gradually, they were formalized, expressed most fully at least in the Byzantine tradition in the liturgies of St. John Chrysostom and St. Basil the Great. The Eucharistic prayers in these liturgies combine the “triune intuition” of the Scriptures, the themes of creation, fall, and redemption, with an underlying emphasis on God’s steadfast love: “Thou it was who brought us from non-existence into being, and when we had fallen away didst raise us up again, and didst not cease to do all things until Thou hadst brought us up to heaven, and hadst endowed us with Thy Kingdom which is to come.” (Anaphora of St. John)

The Anaphora of St. Basil, which is served primarily on the Sundays of Great Lent, is a “tapestry” of Scriptural references, developing in more detail “all” that God has done. Fr. Andrew Morbey sees the Anaphora as a place to begin the preparation of catechumens: “Here may be found, in summary, an account of all that is important in what the Church has to say about God as Trinity, about the Son and the Spirit, about creation, man, the world, the work of Christ, the activity of the Spirit, the life of the Church, the character of Christian living. It is a compelling and moving vision.”[5]

The “silent” or “secret” practice of reading these prayers would exist unchallenged for centuries. In the 19th and early 20th centuries Russian theologians, historians, and liturgists began re-examining the foundations of Orthodox worship, producing (in some cases) still classic studies in the liturgies of St. John and St. Basil, the Typikon, and the Secret Prayers. In 1905, A. P. Golubstsov listed some of the reasons why the prayers ceased to be read publicly:
1. In an effort to reduce the growing length of the liturgy, the prayers were read silently by the priest as the deacon was intoning the petitions.
2. The secret reading became incorporated into the discplina arcana (”secret discipline”) whereby it was felt that those who were “uninitiated” were unable to hear about the mysteries of the faith or of worship. This encouraged the previously mentioned division between the clergy and laity.
3. It was closely related to the period when the practice of frequent communion ceased.[6]

In 1905, each Russian Diocesan bishop was requested by the Holy Synod to offer suggestions for discussion at the proposed All-Russian Council (Sobor ­ which would eventually take place in 1917). Half of the sixty-four bishops raised liturgical concerns: the need to produce a Typikon for parish usage, a re-examination of Church Slavonic or implementation of the Russian language, etc.) Several, including Archbishop Tikhon of the Aleutians and North America (the later Patriarch), recommended that the secret prayers be read aloud. Bishop Nazarius of Nizhni-Novgorod wrote that, “in order that those present would completely understand the structure of this most important liturgical service, by experiencing it in all of its wholeness and seeing how it develops, it might be desirable to permit the secret prayers to be read aloud. This would even be in agreement with the practice of the Early Church. The public reading of the priestly prayers would uplift the prayerful spirit of the worshippers.”[7] Around this same time, Fr. John of Kronstadt, known for his conservatism in many areas, was concerned that many people had a careless attitude towards the services and were ignorant of the “secret prayers.” He wrote that, “The priest or the bishop recites many prayers to himself; it would be much more interesting and profitable for the minds and hearts of Christians to be aware of the full text of the Liturgy.”[8]

Within the Russian Church to this day a serious re-examination of liturgical questions has been hampered by the turmoil of the Revolution and an idealization of pre-Revolutionary Russian life. The consideration of some legitimate reforms such as the reading of the “secret” prayers and the liturgical usage of Russian is no doubt further stifled by their association with the schismatic movement in the 1920’s known as the “Living Church.”

Despite this, Orthodox theologians in the West would continue to affirm the connection between these prayers and the participation of the laity in worship. Boris Sove, in his article, “The Eucharist in the Ancient Church and Contemporary Practice,” observed that, “Following the introduction of the secret reading of the Anaphora, the Liturgy remained and could not do otherwise, a corporate Divine Service, but somehow the responsibility for the corporate prayer and offering was taken away from the laity.”[9]

If we as Orthodox Christians would ask as one father did: “Where are the stories that tell us what kind of people we are as human beings,”[10] we could conclude that they are found in our worship and, in particular, the Divine Liturgy. The liturgy, in fact, is the act by which the community remembers, celebrates, and affirms ­ each time ­ the retelling of the “good news” in its entirety. In hearing it, in saying “Yes” we acknowledge not only what we believe, but we say “Amen” to our Story as God’s people.

ENDNOTES

1.  Hugh Wybrew, The Orthodox Liturgy, (SVS Press, p. 86)

2.  Ibid.

3.  Fr. Pavlos Koumarianos, “Symbol and Reality in the Divine Liturgy, Sourozh, May 2000, p. 14.

4.  quoted in Alexander Schmemann, “Holy Things for the Holy,” in Great Lent, p. 117.

5.  “Adult Catechesis: A Complementary View, ” Canadian Orthodox Messenger, Autumn, 1997, p. 9.

6.  “The Reasons for and the Dates of Replacing the Audible Recitation of Liturgical Prayers with Secret Recitation,” Bogoslovskiy Vestnik, Sept., 1905. Translated by A. Smirensky. Available at: jacwell.org (Supplements)

7.  John Shimchick, The Responses of the Russian Episcopate Concerning Worship ­ 1905 and the Liturgical Situation in America, Unpublished Master of Divinity Thesis, St. Vladimir’s Seminary, 1980, pp. 75-76.

8.  Bishop Alexander, The Life of Father John of Kronstadt. (SVS Press, 1979) p. 50.

9.  In Living Tradition, Paris, 1937, p. 18. Translated by A. Smirensky. Available at: jacwell.org (Supplements)

10.  Andrew Walker, Telling the Story. (London: SPCK, 1996) p. 2.

From “Jacob’s Well”, Newspaper of the Diocese of New York and New Jersey, Orthodox Church in America

The article is as follows:

Greece, Synod Condemns Liturgy in Modern Greek

      (ANSAmed) – ATHENS- The Greek-Orthodox Synod has condemned the Mass in modern language officiated in the diocese of Nicopolis, claiming that it puts ”the Church’s unity” at risk.

Bishop Meletio of Nicopolis, in the northern region of Epirus, a long time ago authorised the translation of the Mass from liturgical Greek (close to the ancient Greek language and once spoken by the upper classes) into modern or ”popular” Greek. Because, he justified his decision, ”otherwise the faithful don’t understand the holy liturgy”. But the Synod has ruled that translating the holy texts is forbidden; it is only allowed ”as an exception and after the authorisation” of the Church.

In the absence of a joint version, according to the orthodox leaders, a spontaneous and causal translation of the liturgy ”could jeopardise the Church’s unity”. The Synod has taken its decision despite the fact that Meletio seems to enjoy the support of his believers and has obtained the official support of other bishops.

The following is a comment (unedited) made by a participant in the discussion. 

I’ve worshipped in a Greek Orthodox Church long enough to more or less get the gist of the shorter things said in Greek. But it is old Greek. I doubt even native Greek speakers really understand it word for word. Moreover, there is this strange fascination with Greek school. I have nothing against Greek-Americans teaching their children to speak modern Greek. It has nothing to do with religion though. Can they read the Gospels or Fathers in Greek once they’re done?

To be fair, this is also a problem in the Slavic churches. Many continue to use Church Slavonic. I’ve heard Slavs complain that the children don’t know what is being said – – almost like in the Old Latin Mass. The only good thing about it is the Slavic unity angle. You can go to most any Slavic country and, if you understand Slavonic, you’ll hear the liturgy you know. Also, Slavonic has functioned as a kind of lingua franca in Eastern Europe for the clergy. However, this is really outweighed by the fact that a considerable amount of the services are unintelligible, or only peripherally intelligible, to the laity.

On a side note, I wonder if the Ecumenical Patriarchate has translated the liturgy and services into Turkish. If they have or might, it would go a long way toward earning the respect of many who are critical of them. It would show that they remain in Turkey to spread the Gospel, not to tend store in the last remnant of a lost empire.

Also, in all fairness to the Greek Synod, we should wait to see if they appoint a committee to do a standard translation of the liturgy, etc. into modern Greek. There is something to be said for not having something like this done piecemeal.

 Here is my response:

 Scott is right in saying he can never understand the language THING. (my edit) And neither do 98% of the faithful who attend the Divine Liturgy in liturgical Greek, Slavonic, or any other non-spoken language today. This, we pretty much agree upon.

 What I don’t agree with is the question of unity. Using language as a tool for unity is a superficial approach. Rome found that out. What is important is that the faith professed, stated and understood in the texts of the Liturgy must be the source of unity. If these are not understood at the outset, then the real unity of the Church is in jeopardy. And this is exactly the problem. The Liturgy is a “School of Theology” for the believer. Everything that is prayed must become what is believed. And this is not possible in situations where the faithful can not understand (or hear) the prayers and hymns which contain the kerygma of faith.

 As for the advantage of being familiar with a practice ensured by a “dead” language, I think it will always be possible to acclimate oneself to different linguistic situations if the faith is nourished by ones “mother” tongue. I travel throughout Western and Eastern Europe whereby I am continually presented with the use of varied language uses, both ancient and contemporary, and I don’t find this to be a problem. Yes, the use of an ancient language in different parts of the globe might assist you in hearing sounds you are familiar with, but not necessary the Liturgy “you know.”

 There are ways to deal with the problem pastorally. Some parts of the Liturgy, especially those sung by the choir such as the Hymn of the Cherubim or the Megalynarion after the Epiclesis, may very well be sung in the ancient languages. Even some of the short acclamations and responses could be sung likewise, for we all know what KYRIE ELEISON means. However, the texts of the Anaphora (which should be said audibly) and the hymns which contain the teaching of the day should be sung in a language understood by the people – not to mention the readings.

 And as to Scott’s suggestion that a committee be formed to work on and issue a unified translation, my response would be one which I think was made by Napoleon – “if you want to avoid something, form a committee.”

 As for poor Bishop Meletios; we should support him especially with our prayers. And to those who oppose this much needed reform, all I can say is “right faith – wrong Bishops!”

 Priest-Monk Gregory-Francis DesMarais

PRAYER TO THE HOLY SPIRIT

OF ST. SYMEON THE NEW THEOLOGIAN 

Come, O eternal joy! Come, O unwithering wreath!
Come, O purple of the great king our God!
Come, O crystalline cincture, studded with precious stones!
Come, O inaccessible sandal! Come, O royal robe
and truly imperial right hand!
Come, you whom my wretched soul
has desired and does desire!
Come, you who alone go to the lonely
for as you see I am lonely!
Come, you who have separated me from everything
and made me solitary in this world!
Come, you who have become yourself desire in me,
who have made me desire you,
the absolutely inaccessible one!

Come, O my breath and life!
Come, O consolation of my humble soul!
Come, O my joy, my glory, and my endless delight!

___________________________________________________________

The Shame of Nag Hammadi

Murder and mayhem on Christmas Eve

On 6 January 2010, as the Coptic Orthodox Church celebrated Christmas Eve, three gunmen in a dark green Fiat 132 with darkened windows and no number plates opened fire with automatic guns on worshippers leaving the midnight mass at Mar Yuhanna’s Cathedral in Nag Hammadi in Upper Egypt. Six Christians – mostly young men between 16-25 – were killed outright and a random Muslim who had come to greet his Christian friend, with many other’s wounded, of whom a further two died from their wounds. Filmed footage, taken on mobile phones by eye-witnesses and posted on the internet, show corpses lying in pools of blood.

This followed a tense period of inter-communal strife the previous month, which involved five days of rioting and looting of Christian properties in the neighbouring areas of Farshout, Abu Shusha, Aerky and Alshokeify. These events were sparked by a rumour that a Copt had indecently assaulted a twelve year-old Muslim girl, although no one was ever charged. Many Copts believe that the incident was fabricated by the Muslims as a pretext to justify violence against them. Bishop Kyrillos, who had defended his flock and criticised the State Security’s handling of the riots, which included the forcible deportation of 163 Copts from their village, said that there had been threats prior to Christmas; for which he had taken the precaution of scheduling the mass to finish an hour earlier than usual. “For days I had expected something to happen on Christmas Eve.” He himself had left the church minutes before the attack, “A driving car swerved near me, so I took the back door. By the time I shook hands with someone at the gate, I heard the mayhem, lots of machine-gun shots.” He later told the Middle East Christian Association, “I was the one intended to be assassinated by this plot, and when it failed the criminals turned round and started shooting and finishing off the young ones.”

Suspicion of collusion between the Security and the attackers were roused by the fact that, for the first time, none of the State Security attended the Christmas Eve mass. It had been assumed that the Muslim victim was a security guard but there had been no guards whatsoever. One witness commented “Security came as everything was over, instead of trying to catch the criminals, they were interrogating us about the description of the cars.” By contrast with their earlier indifference the police used rubber bullets and tear gas to disperse the anxious crowd who naturally gravitated towards the public hospital. Here many of the wounded were rudely refused admission by officials and had to be driven to Sohag public hospital, some 100 kilometres away. One of the wounded, with bullets in his shoulder, stomach, pelvis and another only two centimetres from his heart was given minimal first aid at Nag Hammadi hospital before being operated on at Sohag and finally transferred to Alexandria. The angry crowd reacted by throwing stones at the hospital windows and damaging nearby vehicles. At the mass funeral, which took place on Christmas Day, the police only allowed direct family members to accompany the coffins to the cemetery and imposed a curfew until the following morning. Another internet video shows the procession being pelted with stones and garbage by Muslims.

Later that night the police arrested Mohamed Ahmed Hassan, known as Hamam al-Kamouni, together with Hindawi Saïd Mohamed Hassan who was driving the car and Qorashy Abul-Haggag Mohamed Ali. They were charged with “premeditated murder aimed at harming national interests.” Al-Kamouni is a hardened criminal, well known to the police, who has already attacked Coptic young women near churches in Nag Hammadi by throwing acid on them. Bishop Kyrillos publicly named him as the bodyguard and henchman of MP Abdel-Rehim al-Ghoul who was notorious for using him to execute outlaw activities in Nag Hammadi and to terrorise people during elections. At the mosque for Friday prayers on 12 January al-Ghoul was “belligerently speaking about ‘honour’ and ‘honour crimes’ in direct allusion to the alleged rape crime of last November.”

However, violence continued in the town with Muslim mobs attacking Copts and their properties with swords, butane gas cylinders and Molotov cocktails. Water and electricity were deliberately disconnected during these fires and when the fire brigade arrived, some ninety minutes later, it had empty tanks. A Coptic widow, Mary Om Boktor Kyrollos, was suffocated by fumes when her home was set alight. The Interior Ministry announced that forty-two people (14 Muslims, 28 Copts) had been arrested, many of them teenagers taken randomly from their homes in dawn raids. Some thirty ‘bloggers’ (which included respectable opposition politicians and human rights activists) who arrived in Nag Hammadi from Cairo to show their support for the victims’ families were arrested by police at the railway station and detained overnight in cold cells without water and with the threat of being charged with “illegal gathering, disrupting the authorities’ work and shouting slogans that could cause sectarian strife.”

At this weekly lecture in St. Mark’s Cathedral Pope Shenouda – visibly shaken by the atrocities – made an emotional statement,

“The city of Nag Hammadi is forever registered in history and it became a city of martyrs, because of what happened and the blood of the martyrs that was spilled there. We can call them ‘martyrs’, because they were murdered and were in faith and innocent; they were in the church all night and took Holy Communion and they were ready to meet the Lord.         And also we give the families of those who were martyred our love and consolation. We also console the family of the Muslim soldier who was shot and killed with them, as his blood was mixed with theirs on that night. We also must greet the patients. A list of names was given to me of those who were wounded and are in Sohag hospital ….. May God heal them all and grant them health. I’d like to say to Nag Hammadi that the whole country is concerned for you. All the authorities and people are concerned. Also, there is a lot of concern regarding Nag Hammadi throughout all of Egypt and abroad. The entire world has pity for you and compassion on those who were murdered and wounded. The name of the city of Nag Hammadi is on every tongue. We feel your pain and we are concerned for you. I have pity for you, as if I myself were suffering with you. I also say that God Himself is concerned for you, and all your prayers and cries rise to God and He will surely listen and hear them. God hears the cry of the weak and the oppressed.

When Cain killed his brother Abel, God said “The voice of your brother’s blood is screaming to me from the ground.” God also says to every man that cries out to him, “I will not leave you; I will not forsake you.” The righteous man Joseph, when persecuted by his brothers, and in the house of Potiphar, and imprisoned, was never without God, and the same when Moses struggled under Pharaoh. God did not leave him. What man is not able to do, God is able to do! When the prophet David struggled because of Saul, he escaped from one city to another, and God was with him as well. Be assured, God will not leave you nor forsake you. He will accept the blood of the martyrs and the wounds of those injured.

We pray that the investigation will be completed quickly and the judgement over the guilty will be made quickly by the courts, because the people’s hearts are heavy. I want to tell you that we always proclaim the truth. How can the truth shine here? Every man has his human rights, one of them being the right to live. The book of Genesis says, “He who sheds the blood of a man, his blood will also be shed by the hand of man.” A jury has the right to judge the murderer. Also regarding human rights, each man has the freedom to worship and have shelter ……. And we thank the organisations that defend human rights. Human rights have many aspects. Rights are related to the word ‘truth,’ and the word ‘truth’ is the name of God in Christianity and Islam. We hope that justice will be served. And all those who participated in the sort will be judged justly. May God comfort us all and may God bless the coming days. Instead of celebrating the feast of Christmas Eve, this tragedy occurred. Right must be taken whether on earth or in heaven. May God give comfort to all his people, all the people of Nag Hammadi, and to all Copts in Egypt, and all those who consider the Egyptians their brothers.”

Pope Shenouda visited six of the victims who had been transferred to the Victoria Hospital in Alexandria and prayed with them.

These events resulted in an outburst of anger across Egypt. Some three hundred human rights activists demonstrated in front of Cairo’s Supreme Court and all Human Rights organisations condemned the attack. A series of protests took place outside Egypt. On 19 January in Sydney, Australia, Copts were joined by other Christians in solidarity. Similar large demonstrations took place in Tampa, Florida; in Washington outside the White House; in Kitchener, Ontario and London. The Executive Committee of the World Council of Churches i9ssued a statement noting,

“It is a matter of regret that in Egypt today Christians can easily fall victim to violence and hatred, and that their security is not fully guaranteed. Many Copts, in particular, are made to feel like aliens in their own country. This marginalization is further compounded by sectarian violence and hatred.”

Egypt’s minister of state for parliamentary affairs, Mufid Shehab, said that the investigation into the attack revealed “no religious motivations” whilst the Speaker of the Egyptian parliament, For Fathi Surur, said “one isolated incident should not be taken as proof of a religious conflict.”

It was not until 24 February that the public prosecutor ordered the release of nineteen of the detainees, fifteen of whom were Copts. Some of them alleged mistreatment during their detention.

The names and ages of the Nag Hammadi martyrs are Mina Helmy Said (16), Bishoy Farid Labib (16), Dina Hamalni (17), Boula Atef Yassa (18), Abanoub Kamal Nashed (19), Ayman Zakaria Louka (25), Rafik Refaat William (28) and Zakaria Toma (29).

Fr. Francis (Gregory) DesMarais

        Each year, Christians throughout the world celebrate what is primarily a season of preparation for the approaching yearly reliving of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Christ, The Great Pascha – the Christian Passover.

        Through the centuries this time of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving has been celebrated in many different ways, for different reasons, at different times, and for different lengths of time. However, the message of Lent has been and continues to be the same. It is a time of purification and preparation. It is a yearly reminder of the humble yet certain recognition that all humanity, still struggling with the condition of its fallen state, has a constant need to enter into a holy warfare throughout life; a combat which will affect the patterns of our living and establish priorities on a journey that leads us to the fulfillment of that perfection we are called to inherit. The keeping of Lent is the yearly preparation for the journey to Jerusalem, the celebration of the Great Pascha, both of which are the foretastes of what we are called to experience and inherit as adopted sons and daughters of God the Father through Christ Jesus in the power of the Holy Spirit. This annual “tune up” strengthens and sustains us on our journey to the kingdom. It is for this reason that we should be aware and appreciative of the importance of Lent in our lives as Christians; to be cognizant of the great heritage we have received in its traditions and the grace that is ours in its keeping – its celebration. In the study and recounting of these traditions, we should not consider this as a pedantic exercise – an attempt at narrow minded scholarship or boastful adherence to rules;- but rather as a participation – a sharing – in the prayers and actions of the saints who have gone before us and bequeathed to us this time tested method of spiritual warfare which brings about the enrichment of the life we lead as we seek to become more and more in the image and likeness of God – our calling from first creation. It is with this in mind that we pause to review the history and development, the life of common prayer, and the tradition of ascetic practice which has been given to us, and to apply this heritage to the keeping of Lent.

        Why the Fast?  There are many who would say that our Lord did not command us to fast, and would even say that his criticism of those who abused the practice was an indication of his disapproval. The contrary is surely true. We must always look to “how” Jesus lived as an indication of his commands for us. Jesus gives us examples of how to attain a holy life, sometimes by his words and sometimes by his actions. His very deeds are commands, because when he does something silently or in action, he is making known to us what we ought to do to attain the fullness, which he imparts to us. Therefore, when he withdrew to the desert he gave us an example of how we should also discipline our lives in order to become more and more a living manifestation of his holiness.

        In his teaching, The Lord never separated fasting from almsgiving and prayer (Matthew 6, 1-18). In the writings of the Fathers, the first teachers of the Church, the faithful were constantly reminded of this; the sermons of St. Leo the Great (+ 461) are in particular a good example.

        However, as the salvation of our souls is not gained solely by fasting, let us fill up what is wanting in our fasting with almsgiving to the poor. Let us give to virtue what we take from pleasure. Let the abstinence of the man who fasts be the dinner of the poor man. Let us have thought for the protection of the widow, for the welfare of the orphans, for the comforting of those who mourn, for the peace of those who live in discord. Let the stranger be given shelter. Let the oppressed be aided, the naked be clothed, the sick cherished; so that whosoever has offered from his own works of justice a sacrifice of righteousness to God, that Author of all good things, may merit to receive from Him the reward of a heavenly Kingdom.

        Then hear the words of St. Peter Chrysologus, Bishop of Ravenna (+ 450).

         There are three things, my brethren, by which faith stands firm, devotion remains constant, and virtue endures. They are prayer, fasting, and mercy. Prayer knocks at the door; fasting obtains; and mercy receives. Prayer, Fasting, and Mercy: these three are one, and they give life to one another.

        St. Gregory the Great (+ 604) emphasizes the dimension of sharing and almsgiving when he says: But let no one believe that fasting alone is sufficient; for the Lord tells us by the mouth of the Prophet, “the kind of fasting I want is this: Remove the chains of oppression and the yoke of injustice, and let the oppressed go free.” Then he continues, “Share your food with the hungry and open your homes to the homeless poor. Give clothes to those who have nothing to wear, and do not refuse to help your brothers.” (Isaiah 58, 6-7) The Lord therefore blesses the fast, which uplifts our hands in almsgiving before his eyes, which is joined to the love of neighbor, and founded on compassion. That which you deny yourself, give to another; so that by the means that your body is weakened, the body of your hungry neighbor may be nurtured.

        In all of our prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, there must also be the recognition and admission that we are all in need of repentance. Lent is also a time of penitence. In the early Church, the penitents, or sinners who repented publicly, were solemnly reconciled with the community of the faithful during this period. It goes without saying that public penance has more or less fallen into disuse in the Church today, but the idea of penitence has remained. Are we not all in different degrees, sinners and penitents? Perhaps an answer in the negative might be the source of many of the problems we encounter not only in the Church but in society as well. It is this period, which leads us toward Pascha (Easter) which is surely very propitious for repentance and expiation. Lent is therefore an opportunity to examine our conscience and to seek reconciliation with the Lord, for we have all sinned and come short of the glory of God.

        Lent is also a time of spiritual growth and illumination. In the early Church, catechumens, that is to say those who were being prepared for baptism, were the subject of special prayer and concern during Lent. They were instructed with great zeal and in parts of the Church were baptized on the night of Pascha. Although the “catechumenate” is no longer usual in many of our Churches, we still pray for those adults who are in serious preparation for the gifts of grace of Baptism. In lands where the Church is yet a missionary Church this practice is very much a part of the prayer of the community, especially during the Lenten season. We may once again experience the joy of this prayer even in our own “Christian” country, as more and more of our population are not baptized at infancy.  Moreover, we ourselves after all never stop being catechumens. The Word of God made flesh never ceases to educate us. The Holy Spirit never ceases to enlighten us-never stops knocking at the door of our hearts. Lent is a time that is particularly well suited to hearing, to listening to the voice of God.

        Lent continually reminds us that we are on a journey. It commemorates Israel’s forty years of wandering in the wilderness, those forty years during which the chosen people, having left the captivity of Egypt and crossed the Red Sea, went forward with faith towards the far off promised land, receiving their earthly food from God in the form of manna, and their spiritual food in the form of the Ten Commandments. Sometimes they rebelled and fell into sin, but they reached their goal. Isn’t it amazing how we are still so much like those wanderers in the desert?  Lent also speaks to US of liberation, of pilgrimage, of crossing an arid desert, of a meeting with God on Sinai, and also of failure and reconciliation.

        Lent also recalls the forty days that the Lord Jesus spent in the desert during which he contended with Satan, the tempter. Our Lent must also be a period of fighting against temptation, especially against the temptation of our most commonly experienced failings and shortcomings, for the tempter – the devil, the evil one – is still in our midst.

        How did the Church – following the example of her Lord and Master – develop this yearly practice? One must remember that the practice of fasting was inherited from the Jewish tradition and was most likely practiced by many of the first generation Christians. Indeed Wednesdays and Fridays throughout the year were regular days of fasting in the very early Church. The first appearance of a pre-Pascha (Easter) Forty day Fast occurred at the end of the 3rd Century or the beginning of the 4th Century. It is referred to in the official documents in Canon 5 of the Council of Nicaea (325 A. D.). Indeed, there are references in the letters of St. Athanasius in the year 330 AD admonishing the people of the Church of Alexandria to keep the fast so as to not be a source of reproach by the Christians of the other Churches who were very faithful in the keeping of the Lenten discipline. It is here that we find an indication that there were various reasons for following the example given by Christ with regard to this practice. Some documents produce credible evidence that this fast first appeared in the Coptic Church (the Church of Alexandria) as a commemoration of Christ’s fast in the desert immediately following His Baptism in the Jordan by John. Keep this in mind for we will return to this later on. However most scholars of the Liturgy identify the beginnings of the pre-Paschal fast with the period of preparation for the baptism of converts. Remember that infant Baptism was still not the normative practice at this time. When this became the case, the Pre-Paschal Fast became increasingly penitential in character and a preparation for the celebration of the Death and Resurrection of Christ. Once again, remember that at this early stage, the Lenten fast was merely an extension of the regular weekly fast of Wednesdays and Fridays held throughout the year, thus including Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Eventually in the Church at Rome, it included Saturdays. However in the Eastern Churches Saturdays are not days of fasting.

        The period of fasting was always accompanied by meetings for prayer and for listening to the Word of God. It must also be noted that on days of fasting there was no celebration of the Divine Liturgy. This tradition — continued today in Orthodox Churches – is of particular importance in the understanding of the liturgical nature and keeping of the fast. Fasting is not just a private discipline; it is an action of the whole Christian community. The ancient tradition states this clearly – under no circumstances was the Divine Liturgy celebrated Monday to Friday during the weeks of Lent – with one exception, the Feast of the Annunciation, March 25. During the week however, a special service – The Liturgy of the Pre-Sanctified Gifts, sometimes referred to as the Liturgy of St. Gregory of Rome, was celebrated.

        In this Service, the faithful gathered to pray, listen to Scripture, sing Psalms and hymns and share the Sacred Bread and Wine, the Body and Blood of the Lord, which had been consecrated on the previous Lord’s Day. This practice continues today, especially on Wednesdays and Fridays, in many Orthodox Churches. In the West, this practice was abandoned by the 10th Century as the practice of celebrating “private” or memorial Masses in the monastic communities became prevalent. This altered immensely the concept of fasting for Latin Christians. The communal nature of the Fast had been lost, not to mention the implications that this had in the celebration of the Divine Liturgy. Today, the Roman Catholic Church, and those who follow its liturgical tradition, has all but forgotten the practice and spirit of fasting, which was so integral to the early Christian keeping of Lent.

        Let me say a few words about the length of this fasting period. In the letters of St. Athanasius, already mentioned, we find reference to the six-week period, which included Saturdays and Sundays. Although there is indication that this period may have been the weeks immediately following the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord in the Jordan. There would have been therefore a period between the Great Fast of Lent and the celebration of the Passion, Death and Resurrection of Christ – Pascha. The famed traveler of the early Church, Egeria, who has left us an account of her travels – records that in Jerusalem Lent lasted eight weeks, which included Holy Week but not Saturdays and Sundays. This seems to have been the practice also in Antioch and Cyprus. The practice in Constantinople was a 40 day period of fasting, which did not include Holy Week and which ended on the Friday before Palm Sunday.  To make things even more interesting, the six weeks of fasting in Rome could actually have been three weeks of fasting alternating with three weeks of non-fast. We are certain however that by the time of St. Leo the Great (440-61 AD) There was a six week Lenten fast in Rome beginning on a Sunday night and extending to Holy Thursday. By the beginning of the 6th Century the fast was begun in the middle of the previous week (Wednesday) so that the Sundays of Lent would not be counted as Fast days, for Sunday is a celebration of the Resurrection throughout the year and therefore not a day of fast. Therefore in the Western tradition the Forty Days of Lent are counted from Ash Wednesday and include Holy Week but not Sundays, while in the Eastern tradition Lent begins on Sunday evening (Monday) of the seventh week before Pascha and extends to the Friday before Palm Sunday excluding Holy Week but including Sundays. For the most part these variations reflected the right of each Church to establish local custom without the criticism or intimidation of the other Churches. We could learn from their example today.

        Let me say a few words concerning the weeks prior to the beginning of the Great Fast. The Pre-Lenten Season (the Sundays of Septua-, Sexa-, and Quinqua-gesima) had developed in Rome by the time of Gregory the Great (end of the 6th century) but was not a practice limited to the Church in that city. It was celebrated in other Western Churches, in Gaul, Spain, as well as in the Churches of the Celtic and Anglo-Saxon peoples. In the Eastern Church it was commemorated as a season of probably five weeks ending with the week known as Cheesefare. These weeks, whether three or five, were weeks of limited fasting. They were a time of preparation for the Great Fast. The entire Western Church adopted the time of three weeks preparatory to Lent once the liturgical practice of the Church of Rome became dominant throughout Western Europe by the 8th Century. Their continued commemoration through the centuries not only offered a time of liturgical and homiletic preparation for the season of lent, but the also prepared the body and the soul for the disciplines of the Lenten fast. Like many of the valuable practices of the keeping of Lent, these Sundays have become nonexistent in the non-Orthodox traditions, especially since the “reforms” of the Second Vatican Council of the Roman Church.

        After the Sunday of Quinquagesima, the Western Church was ready for Lent. The following is a description of how it commenced on Ash Wednesday. A liturgical book of the 8th century describes the day. The entire community of the Church in Rome would gather at the Church of St. Anastasia, at the foot of the Palatine Hill. The Bishop of Rome began the ceremony. They would then all walk in procession to the top of the Aventine hill to celebrate the first Lenten Liturgy in the Church of St. Sabina. During the procession, the people sang the antiphon “LET US PUT ON SACKCLOTH AND ASHES.” At this time in Rome this chant had only symbolic meaning, but in the church north of the Alps (the Rhenish Church) there was a desire to give the text a corresponding ceremonial practice, that of covering oneself with ashes. This was a purely personal action as a sign of penitence based on the citations from the Old Testament (Joshua 7, 6, I Samuel 13, 19, Ezekiel 27, 30, Job 2, 12, & 42, 6, Esther 4, 3).  It was a private way for sinners to give a public sign of their repentance, but had no liturgical significance. During the 10th and 11th centuries, this practice made its way south to Italy and there became part of the liturgical practice of the Church of Rome by the 12th century. It was not until the 13th century that the Pope submitted himself to the public penitential act as part of the ritual of Ash Wednesday.

         As I mentioned earlier, the main purpose for the setting aside of this pre-Paschal season, at least in the early days of the Western Church, was the preparation of the catechumens for baptism. By the 4th century, the process for instructing those who were to be baptized and brought into the family of the church had become well organized. Lent offered an appropriate framework in which to conduct the final preparation of the catechumens who would be baptized during the Vigil of Pascha. As early as 220 AD, it was considered appropriate to confer Baptism on the Feasts of Pascha and Pentecost. Although there were traditions in other Churches, which allowed for the Rite of Baptism to be administered on other feasts, the baptismal catechesis of most of the early teachers of the church assume no date other than Pascha for the baptism of converts.  We can ascertain the importance and systematic association to the Lenten Season of this process in the following ways.

        1. Those who wished to be baptized had to present their names to the Bishop at least forty days in advance. Therefore, those who were to be baptized at Easter would do this at the beginning of Lent. If the Bishop were satisfied with their intent, he would register their names.

        2. The candidates then underwent repeated exorcisms. When the exorcisms were well advanced the candidates were subjected to scrutinies — scrutinized by exorcisms” in the words of St. Leo the Great. Although the exact meaning of this is somewhat obscure it is most likely, the Bishop performed that last of these exorcisms so that he could be certain that the candidate was spiritually prepared for Baptism.

        3. Throughout Lent the Candidates were to attend daily instructions. During the first part of Lent, the instruction dealt with the Scriptures, the Resurrection, and Faith. In the second part of the Lenten season, the instruction focused on the Creed and the Lord’s Prayer. In Western Churches the Creed was taught in three stages; the handing-over, explanation, and recitation. The first of these ceremonies took place on a Sunday in the middle of Lent; in Rome it was the 3rd Sunday, in Jerusalem the 5th, and in Milan, under St. Ambrose, it was the Sunday before Pascha 4. The candidates had to observe the fast for forty Days. In some places this not only applied to food but also to the legitimate practices of marriage. The pleasure of a bath was also renounced, but the candidates were allowed a bath on Holy Thursday to make themselves decent for Baptism.

        These examples show the importance of the keeping of Lent in the life of the early Church as it applied to the celebration of Baptism, and one might add, the various traditions that existed compatibly from Church to Church. Nevertheless, it should also be noted, as we have already done, that the whole community shared in this time of preparation. The whole Church entered into this Holy Season. From the beginning of the 6th century, no feasts or festivals were celebrated in Lent, except for the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25. No Baptisms were performed. There were also no marriages in Lent from the 4th Century on in both the Eastern and Western Churches. (Canon 52 of the Council of Laodicea, 363 AD.) These practices were part of the liturgical life of the Church and were canonically applied to the full practice and understanding of this period of the Great Fast. It must be admitted that most Christian communities have today abandoned the practice and the spirit of these traditions with the result that fasting has lost its liturgical significance in the keeping of Lent. Since the private practices of Lent are no longer “juridically” imposed “under pain of sin”, their consideration and implementation have become diminished.

        In all of the above, we have considered many of the traditions, which are presented to us in the celebration of Lent. We should not abandon them or apologize for them. When we look to the past – to our collective memory – we call to mind he reality of our salvation – and this is made present each year as we keep this “holy spring.” It is wrong for us to look only to the future and forget the practices of the past, regarding them as unimportant aberration. We live by faith, a faith that is depicted in the actions of those who have gone before us on this journey; who by their actions have left us an example and the means of preserving this faith. We are presented with the mission of bequeathing this faith to future generations in its fullness and with true glory. The liturgical celebrations of this season, and our personal application of the ascetic disciplines of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, are a sure way of bringing this mission to fruition. We celebrate Lent by allowing the traditions we have discussed, traditions that should become a part of our lives as Christians at all times, become a joyful force in the living out of this Holy Season. These traditions will not destroy our freedom – but perfect it. Our Lenten journey is more than an imposed set of rules, more than a “schedule of extra Services,” even beyond the “sanctification of time.” It is the sanctification of life by mediating to us the presence of Christ in our time. By living Lent in its fullness, in the Liturgy and discipline of the season, there is no division of life into the sacred and the secular, but a transfiguration of one to the other. The Lord did not come to “symbolize” his presence in our celebrations, but to transform and save (make whole) by his real presence in you and in me; a presence that is made manifest in our wholesome and complete keeping of the Great Fast, the 40 days of Lent.

Here it is. “I’d like some feedback on folks what they are doing for music at the services. I have recently been asked to help out with the choir at my church and find there are so many options it’s almost overwhelming. We follow the St. Gregory liturgy and we did get the St. Ambrose Hymnal. I’m trying to work in some Taize and Byzantine chant. The majority of the parish is from a more contemporary background, and the musical selections have been somewhat haphazard since the parish became Othodox . I’m trying to make everyone happy (not easy). Would like to hear from others for suggestions. Thanks”

My observation: It is quite evident that this person is being asked as an interested and devoted parishioner, and not a a professional musician. And it is also evident that this parish community is rather new to this tradition, and perhaps has been set on a journey without too much preparation, at least in liturgical practice & music.

The next post was made by a student from one of the Orthodox colleges in the Northeast, who serves at another Western Orthodox parish nearby. His comments reflect a knowledge of Western Liturgical Music, as well as some of his practical experience in the field. “Ah, the perennial issue of music! A few suggestions starting with, out with the Taize in with the Tallis;) The real question is what is appropriate music for Orthodox worship? Chant is of primary importance. The whole history of Western Church music stems from Gregorian Chant (even the polyphony of Palestrina). The wonderful thing about living today is the fact that pretty much all of it has been translated into English and much of it is very singable. The propers for Sundays and feastdays are all available online, as well as settings of the mass. If you like I can send you some links. Next we go to hymns. Hymns were never actually part of the Mass itself, but come mostly from the Divine Office and various other liturgical celebrations. However, that doesn’t mean hymns don’t have a place in the Mass. But we do need to consider appropriate hymns for Mass, and making sure that the hymns agree with Orthodox doctrine. Unfortunately, that means that there might be some of our favorite hymns that are not appropriate for use. We need to be especially careful with contemporary hymns and sacred music in general. The W.R. Vicariate doesn’t have a comprehensive list of good hymn choices (perhaps they should get on that). As for general styles of music and instruments. The human voice has supremacy over all other instruments in the Western (and Eastern) Churches. Chant was a capella, as was the Mass. What they would often do is go back and forth between the organ and the choir singing in the alternatum method. Now it is generally accepted that organ accompaniment is just fine. The organ comes second only to the unaccompanied voice in use in churches. From hymn accompaniment to postludes, the organ is the most versatile instrument. Guitars, drums, and glockenspiels do not have a place in the liturgy. They are fine for use in the church hall afterwards, but not liturgical use. The one thing to remember when thinking about sacred music is that it is meant to help us experience the otherworldliness of the Liturgy. We go to Church to escape this world, during it we are present in the Kingdom of Heaven. All the things in the Liturgy are meant to be different, so different, from what we experience in every day life. And music is one of the most important parts of this experience.”

(to be continued)

It would be fruitless and presumptuous of me to offer an overview of his position when the statement he made in 1958 concerning this issue is readily available online. However, for expediency and continued awareness of his position, I am posting it below. I do so with great respect for Fr. Schmemman and the Western Rite Movement. I was active in the Church, which developed in France under the guidance of Bishop Jean-Nectaire (Evgraph) Kovalesky, and because of this, I became very convinced that Fr. Alexander’s position was – and is – a very well founded one. It is a position that must be considered each time the question of entry into Orthodoxy by Western Christians who wish to continue in their historic liturgical tradition. As Fr. Alexander wrote – it is the fullness of content and not the rigidity of form that brings one – or a group – into the Orthodox Church in its complete witness. The article follows:

The Western Rite

The article of my esteemed colleague Father W. S. Schneirla in the Spring ‘58 issue of the Quarterly and the recent Edict of the Syrian Archdiocese authorizing, under certain conditions, the use of the Western Rite within the Antiochian jurisdiction make the problem on the Orthodox Western Liturgy a very urgent issue for the Orthodox Church in America. It calls for much thinking and a very careful study of its various theological, spiritual and practical implications. The Edict signed by Metropolitan Antony Bashir specifies that:

In this brief article, I do not pretend to even mention all the aspects of so complicated a matter. All I want is to raise a few questions which in my opinion are especially important.

Let me first of all make it clear that theoretically I find myself in basic agreement with Father Schneirla. The unity of rite in the Orthodox Church is comparatively a late phenomenon and the Church never considered liturgical uniformity a conditio sine qua non of her unity. No one who knows the history of Christian worship will deny the richness of the Western liturgical tradition, that especially of the old and venerable Roman liturgy. One may even ask whether the liturgical unification performed by Byzantium and which deprived the Orthodox East of the wonderful liturgies of Alexandria, Syria, Mesopotamia, etc. was in itself a wholly positive achievement. Last but not least, it is obvious that in case of an eventual return of the West to Orthodoxy, the western Church will have her own Western Liturgy and this will mean a tremendous enrichment of the Church Universal . . . In all this and thus far my agreement with Father Schneirla is complete.

My doubts concern not the theoretical, but the practical aspect of the whole problem. Yet by practical, I mean something much more important than the simple question of prerequisites which would make a definite rite formally acceptable as “Orthodox”. No doubt, in advocating the Western Rite, Father Schneirla is ultimately moved by practical, i.e., missionary considerations: its acceptance by the Church should make conversion to Orthodoxy easier for Western Christians. Such is also the main motivation of Metropolitan Antony’s Edict: “it (i.e., the Western Rite) might serve the . . . purpose of facilitating the conversion of groups of non-Orthodox Western Christians to the Church . . .” Maybe it is unfair to point out that the scholarly and objective analysis by Fr. Schneirla of the various Orthodox experiments in the Western Rite hardly substantiates this optimistic assertion, for some future experiment can achieve a greater measure of success in such corporate conversion. The center of my doubts is not here. For me, the only important question is: What exactly do we mean by conversion to Orthodoxy? The following definition will, I presume, be acceptable to everybody: it is the individual or the corporate acceptance of the Orthodox faith and the integration in the life of the Church, in the full communion of faith and love. If this definition is correct, we must ask: can the “conversion” of a group or a parish, for which its spiritual leaders have signed a formal doctrinal statement and which hasretained its Western rite, however purified or amended, can such a “conversion” – in our present situation, i.e., in the whole context of the Orthodox Church as she exists in America today – be considered as a true conversion? Personally, I doubt it very much. And I consider this growing interpretation of conversion in terms of a mere jurisdictional belonging to some Orthodox Diocese, of a “mimimum” of doctrinal and liturgical requirements and of an almost mechanical understanding of the “Apostolic Succession” as a very real danger to Orthodoxy. This means the replacement of Orthodoxy of “content” by Orthodoxy of “form”, which certainly is not an Orthodox idea. For we believe that Orthodoxy is, above all, faith that one must live, in which one grows, a communion, a “way of life” into which one is more and more deeply integrated. And now, whether we want it or not, this living faith, this organic spirit and vision of Orthodoxy is being preserved and conveyed to us mainly if not uniquely, by the Orthodox worship. In our state of national divisions, of theological weakness, in the lack of living spiritual and monastic centers, of unpreparedness of our clergy and laity for more articulate doctrinal and spiritual teaching, of absence of a real canonical and pastoral care on the part of the various jurisdictional centers, what holds the Orthodox Church together, assures its real continuity with tradition and gives the hope of a revival is precisely the liturgical tradition. It is a unique synthesis of the doctrinal, ethical and canonical teachings of Orthodoxy and I do not see how a real integration into the Orthodox Church, a genuine communion of faith and life may be achieved without an integration in the Orthodox worship.

I agree with Fr. Schneirla and I have said it on several occasions, that our liturgical tradition has to be purified from many local, antiquated and sometimes utterly un-Orthodox elements and practices. Nevertheless, it stands at present as a living bond of unity and “koinonia”.

And then the last question: is it quite correct to define our rite as “Eastern” and therefore “foreign to all the Western Christians have known” to quote the Edict? I would like to suggest a rather sharp distinction between “Eastern” and “oriental”. No doubt there are many oriental features, oriental ingredients in our liturgical life. No doubt also, that for many Orthodox this “orientalism” seems to be the essential element. But we know that it is not essential and we know that progressively all these “orientalisms” are being eliminated in a very natural and spontaneous process of adjustment of our cult to the American life. But then what remains and what can be described as “Eastern” is nothing else but the Biblical and the Patristic “content” of our liturgy. It is essentially and structurally Biblical and Patristic, and therefore, it is “eastern” in exactly the same measure in which the Bible and the Fathers, or rather, the whole Christianity can be termed “Eastern”. But have we not proclaimed time and again in all our encounters with our Western brothers that it is this “East” precisely that constitutes the common and the catholic heritage of the Church and can supply us with a common language which has been lost or distorted? The Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom or the Easter Canon of St. John of Damascus, are, I believe, much closer to that common and Catholic language of the Church than anything else in any Christian tradition. And I cannot think of any word or phrase in these services that would be “foreign” to a Western Christian and would not be capable of expressing his faith and his experience, if the latter would be genuinely Orthodox . . .

These considerations, however fragmentary and incomplete, lead to the following conclusion: I think that in the present situation of the Orthodox Church in America, the Western Rite, theoretically justified and acceptable as it is, would, instead of “facilitating conversion”, dangerously multiply spiritual adventures of which we had too many in the past, and which can but hinder the real progress of Orthodoxy in the West.

St. Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly, Vol. 2 – New Series, No. 4, Fall, 1958, pp. 37-38.