Preparing for Nativity

This season of Nativity should be a time of preparation for all of us who profess ourselves to be Christians. From before time God was preparing to come to be born within human history as a man. Mary and Joseph had to prepare, in many ways, for the birth of God's Son: through prayer and piety, through traveling to Jerusalem, through making a place in that cave for the birth.

The great second century Christian thinker, Origen, wrote of preparation in

a sermon, beginning with the words of the Forerunner John: "The voice cries, 'Prepare ye the way of the Lord'. Which way shall we prepare for the Lord? A way on the earth: Can the Word of God travel such a road" Or rather must we not prepare the way within us, setting up in our hearts a straight and true way? This is the way through which the Word of God enters, and comes to rest within the bounds of the

human body. And great indeed is the heart of man, wide and spacious as if it were a world in itself… See than that no small thing is the heart of man which can contain so much. And see also that its greatness is not in body quantity, but in the power by which it can receive such knowledge of the truth… Let us consider this. Through whatever cities we may have passed, we have still within our minds the style and the shape of their squares and house and walls and buildings, stored in our memory. We keep within us, as in a picture, the roads, we have traveled. The sea we have voyaged over we can recall in moments of quiet recollection. No small thing, as if I have said, is the heart of man. If then it can contain so much, and is not something small and narrow, then let a way for the Lord be prepared in it, and let His path be made straight, so that the word of God and His Wisdom may enter there. Prepare this way by a worthy manner of living. and with good works make straight the path so that without hindrance the Word of God may tread this way to you, and give you understanding, both of His Coming and of His Mysteries, to Whom be glory and empire forever and ever. Amen."

Let us not let the practicality of his admonition be lost on us. Our heart stores up all that it is exposed to. Like a computer, it is filled with data, some of which is useful, some of which is not, some of which is useful, some of which is junk. As Deacon Dorotheos said to me recently on a Turkish mountain top: "time is very important". We can use our time to store up eternal things in our heart, or we can store up things that one day will be burned.

Many years ago, a very pious friend of mine while speaking in a store front church in my hometown launched into a perfect rendition of Hank William's "Your Cheatin' Heart". He nailed it, perfectly. Then he said, "I learned that song many years ago. But, it is completely useless to me. How much more better off would I have been reading the scriptures rather than listening to that song?" Mason was right. He hadn't even tried to learn that song, but it forever was implanted in his heart, just like all of the things that Origen spoke about so many centuries ago. Where we allow ourselves to be, in body or in mind, has a great bearing upon what we store up. Our preparation is how we live our life, each day, minute by minute: where we travel, what we do, what we think.

As we approach the Nativity of our Lord, as this Nativity fast enters its final days, let us think more perfectly about how we can prepare our hearts for His coming to us, and our coming to Him.

Behind Barbed Wire and Barriers

The Ecumenical Patriarchate is housed in a walled, barbed wire lined compound lying within a stone's throw of the Golden Horn in the city that is now called Istanbul. Just over the wall is a minaret, from which the Moslem call to prayer is broadcast regularly and loudly.

The Ecumenical Patriarch, in other times known as the Pope or Archbishop of Constantinople (or New Rome), was second in rank (among spiritual equals) only to the Pope of Rome. With the Great Schism, this Patriarch became the ranking Patriarch in the Orthodox World. Although he is, by necessity, cloistered behind a guarded wall, he is still the leader of the Orthodox World.

As I walked past the Turkish guardhouse, and past the door

(that remains locked) where the Patriarch Gregorius was hung by the Ottomans in 1821 I was reminded of something I heard the Patriarch of Jerusalem say a couple of months ago: "we are here to be a presence". It is probably not a coincidence that many of our Orthodox Patriarchs are a "presence" in a hostile environment. Jerusalem, Antioch, Alexandria, and Istanbul (with Rome, the sites of the five ancient Patriarchates) are not exactly friendly territory. Three are contained within Islamic states and the fourth is the site of

constant turmoil between Israelis and Palestianians. All are dangerous, especially if one chooses to openly express any signs of Christian faith on the wrong street corner. Of course, this is not new. When Gregory of Nazianzus came to Constantinople in the fourth century to be the new Archbishop he was entering a hostile Arian environment from which he rescued the city with his Orthodox teaching and example.

We are told in the scriptures not to keep our light under a basket. I was recently reminded that the "light" in Jesus' day was not a fluorescent light. It was a candle or oil lamp that had to be constantly tended in order to give out light. Our "light" requires constant attention if it is going to do what it is intended to do. The tending in the Orthodox Church is accomplished through attending the services of the church, prayer, fasting, and looking out for the needs of those around us. These Patriarchs are all a great example to us of how to shine, even in a hostile environment. We would do well to emulate their behavior.

Hagia Sophia: The Great Church of Byzantia

Riding on the ferry to and from the Princes' Islands last week gave me a different perspective on Hagia Sophia in New Rome, that great church that was the largest in the world until St.

Peter's was built in Old Rome. Leaving the Istanbul terminal, the ferry skirts the coastline, with the

Bosporus to your back, the Golden Horn to your right. The ferry is moving into

the largeness of the Sea of Marmara, and you are immediately surrounded by large ocean going vessels. You see at once the importance of this piece of real estate, and how it has impacted trade and fortunes, and why much blood has been spilled in it.

And, on that high hill on your right, between the Golden Horn and the Sea, stands Hagia Sophia. In the thousand years of the great Byzantine Empire this magnificent structure would have been the one thing that would stand out. In the days of Constantinople it would have been framed by the Imperial buildings (fitting when

you consider the healthy relationship between Church and State that we don't have or understand in our country) of the Empire. Whether one was a sailor returning home, a fisherman

tending his nets, or a stranger just passing through en route to the Black Sea or the Mediterranean, one could not help but be touched by the appearance of such a grand sight. What a lighthouse is to a ship, this beacon of hope was to a soul. The view lingers for a long time regardless of which direction one is going.

When I approached on foot I did not know what to expect. It is huge. It is beautiful. After passing the minarets (that were built around it after the Empire fell into Ottoman hands), and after passing through the ticket line (for now it has been reduced to a tourist attraction) I found myself inside. The huge entry way stones are worn down from centuries of use. It epitomizes Orthodox worship. It is open, and expansive, and it does appear to reach to heaven. The dome is 101 feet in diameter, and 160 feet tall. Thankfully, many Orthodox mosaics have survived. (Apparently, it was easier to plaster over them than it was to destroy them.) The sight of this place in the midst of a Divine Liturgy, with thousands of singers, and thousands of worshippers (including the Emperor) was enough of a sight turn Russia to Orthodoxy. I believe it. A couple of days later I was in St. George's Church at the Patriarchate for a Divine Liturgy on St. Andrew's feast day. It was overwhelming. How much more would such a service have been in such a grand place. In our world we marvel over thousands in attendance at a sporting event, or the light and sound show of a rock concert. How much more is the spectacle of something that really means something.

The Day I Met Tarzan

The day Johnny Weissmuller came to my hometown is near the top of my list of childhood memories. Boys from my generation grew up watching black and white movies of Tarzan on black and white television sets. And who was the greatest Tarzan? No question, hands down, Johnny Weissmuller was it. He was the voice, he had the rugged look. And, we insiders knew that he was a REAL hero. After all, in the 1924 and 1928 Olympics, he had won five gold medals as a swimmer. We knew that he really WAS Tarzan. No child of today could possibly understand the magnitude of seeing such a hero in the flesh.

I was too young to understand why a man who was an Olympic star in the 1920's, and a Hollywood star in the 1930's, 40's and 50's, would now be hanging out at a mobile home dealer's business in a small town in Virginia in the 1960's. When I came into his presence I found an older man, dressed as his Jungle Jim character of later years: pith helmet, khakis, and sunglasses. He was larger than life to me. I tried to strike up a conversation with him about his life as Tarzan, his sidekick Cheetah, and other things that a youngster would be thinking about. I remember that as he signed multiple autographs for me he seemed detached, and more than a little sad. He answered my questions in a polite, dignified manner. He was probably happy to have the attention of a young starry eyed boy rather than the glances of adults who probably could figure out something of what must have gone wrong. Years later, one can read of the multiple bad business decisions, and multiple wives that are a part of his story. Life seems to have gone all downhill after the Olympic days. He was in two unforgettable films after I saw him, you can't even find them on Netflix. I understand that he ended up in an unmarked grave in Acapulco.

All of us have to deal with the fortunes and misfortunes of this life: those we make and those we inherit. Our faith (or lack thereof) determines what we make of it. When life doesn't go our way, it is up to us to respond in a moral and faithful manner. We have to have the proper faith. If we believe in a false Christ, if our belief system is heretical in any way, our decisions (at best) will be flawed. Bad data in, bad data out. In Orthodoxy we have the true Christ, we have the true faith. And, having this, we must behave in the proper way.

Protopresbytyr Michael Pomazanky writes: Our "moral life is directed by the exploit of Christ on the Cross. This path is our personal struggle in the name of the Cross of the Lord…. The very concept of the spiritual Cross contains in itself not only the various forms of personal struggle, but also the involuntary sorrows of life which are accepted in humility before the Providence of God."

If we struggle in the shadow of the Cross we will triumph. No matter what comes: bad health, bad economy, faithless friends or family, we will triumph. We cannot allow ourselves to succumb to the amoral/immoral "easy" choices that appear before us. Oh, that reminds me of a great old movie, "The Devil and Daniel Webster" starring Walter Huston. But, that's grist for another day at the mill.

Visit to a Desert Monastery

Wadi Qelt is a cleft in the Judaean Desert that looks the product of a gigantic hammer fallen from the heavens. I was anxious to go there. It has been home to Orthodox monks off and on since the 5th century. Besides being the scene of a massacre of monks by the persians, it is also said to be the place where Elijah hid in a cave and was fed by ravens. We drove as far as we could through the Judaen desert, and then parked the car in front of the entryway where we were met by bedouins on donkeys.

The initial descent is amazing as you snake your way down the side of

the Wadi. As we walked further we could see hundreds of holes in both sides of the sheer walls, the homes of monks over the last fifteen centuries. Incredibly, as we got closer to the bottom of the trail things began to turn green, and lush. I felt like Ronald Colman as he stumbled into Shangri-La. At the bottom of the walkway the shade shielded us from the desert heat. Crossing a bridge we began the ascent up the serpentine path to St. George's monastery.

A gatekeeper met us, and allowed entry. I was thankful that I was in the

company of two priests, because the door seemed to swing a little quicker and a little wider than it might have otherwise. The sound of the semantron signaled our arrival into the monastery. Some say that this was the instrument that Noah used to call the animals into the ark. We were greeted with cool water, lemonade, and dates as we cooled down and had our breath restored from the hike.

We were allowed to walk through the monastery, visiting the chapel, venerating the icons, the relics of slain monks, and the body of Fr. John the Romanian. A miraculous thing happened here, but that is the story of another. But, I will relate something that will always remain with me.

I was standing in the small gift shop admiring the hand made prayer ropes, and pointing at one I asked a priest monk who was standing there something about them. Thankfully, he misunderstood my question. Taking one of the ropes, he took it between his fingers, and began to pray his version of the Jesus prayer, first in Greek, and then in English. He began to tell me about the Jesus prayer in his own way. The Jesus Prayer in The Way of the Pilgrim was one of my first introductions to Orthodoxy. I have prayed the Jesus Prayer, but in my life I had neither prayed it, nor heard it prayed the way this monk prayed it. I will forever be touched by his words, and his handling of the rope. As I was about to leave I bowed and put my hands out for a blessing. He gave me a blessing, and then looking me in the eyes, he said, "What is your name?" I gave him my baptismal name, and he put his hands on my head and blessed me again, hugging me and kissing me on both cheeks. I will never forget that monk, his prayer, his blessing, and his love for me at that moment. I now know why men go to the desert. I see why they stay.

Up to Jerusalem 2009: Part Three

"A bag of monkeys" is how one of the desert fathers described the human mind. And, that is much how I feel anytime I am in the Old City of Jerusalem. It is very hard to keep focused on why you are really there, amidst the throngs of pilgrims and tourists, the various religious groups that live and worship in various parts of the city, the shopkeepers and hawkers who are trying to lure you in, the uneven pathways, the sounds and smells, and the ever present young Israelis packing machine guns. And, in the most holy of Christian places, The Church of the Holy Sepulcher , all of this is even more magnified. There is an energy, and a spiritual conflict that is ever-present wherever you are in the city.

My friend Ruairi asked me how my perspective on visiting Israel had changed since my first visit thirty years ago. I mentioned that my views on eschatology had created some change. Thirty years ago I was caught up in visiting Megiddo, and anticipating the events that evangelicals/dispensationalists have mapped out for us for that particular spot. Much of what I saw on that first trip was filtered through that eschatology. I could have said that I was caught up in a great zeal for the State of Israel at that time. Masada was a favorite stop. At the time I was steeped in Jewish studies at the University of Virginia, and vicariously a citizen of the modern State of Israel. "Never again, Masada" is a rallying cry for Israelis much the way that "Remember the Alamo" was for Texans. Reveling in the angst of modern Israelis seemed to be part of the package thirty years ago. To be future minded, pro-Israel, and Christian all seemed to make sense.

The Lord Jesus Christ told the Jews of His time that their house would be left to them desolate. When I go to the Wailing Wall today I see the desolation of Israel. With an amazing zeal the faithful perpetually pray there. Yet, the One they pray to passed through their midst. He still passes through their midst. Religious judaism failed when it rejected the God-Man and all that is left is the Wailing Wall from the time of its failure. The Pharisee Nicodemus made the right choice and the right time. Political judaism failed and Megiddo is its monument. Simon the Zealot made the right decision when he followed Christ instead of following his brothers to a suicide in the desert. I pray that God will be merciful to those pious Jews who pray fervently at the Wall.

Make no mistake, the State of Israel would be happy if every non-Israeli would disappear from their country. It is clear that their legal system is designed to remove non-Israelis from the land, one way or another. It doesn't matter whether you are a Moslem or not, a Christian or not, a law abiding person or not, or how long you have lived in the land. Legal loopholes are used to deport people every day. Non-Israeli dead are even being dug up from the Mount of Olives so that Israelis can be buried. They are welcoming Jews from all over the world with open arms, and as this policy continues more people will continue to be preempted from their land. The situation will only become worse with time and congestion. In 30 years my perspective has certainly changed on the State of Israel. That entity is no friend of the Body of Christ. It is systematically driving away as many Christians as it can, and making it intolerable, especially for Palestinian Christians, to live there. I am no longer a fan.

My perspective on the historical sites has changed as well. All of the sites in Old Jerusalem were discounted by our evangelical "completed Jew" tour guide. We walked by the door of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and were told that "here is where the Catholics" say Christ rose from the dead. Of course, we were then directed to Gordon's (Garden) Tomb which has no historical connection to the life of Christ. The work of St. Helen in and around the city was completely discounted. Today I have a much greater appreciation for the historical sites. I am drawn to those places that contain the relics of the saints.

What has not changed for me is the importance of having a perspective on the land itself. The terrain and climate have not changed dramatically in the last two thousand years. I can visualize what it means to walk across or sail across the Sea of Galilee. I can appreciate the effort involved in walking "up to Jerusalem" especially when one reaches that brutal stretch of road from Jericho to Jerusalem. I marvel at how St. John the Forerunner, or Elijah, or untold numbers of monastics, could possibly live for any length of time in such a harsh desert climate. I know what the gospels means when they speak of Jesus leaving the city, crossing the Kidron Valley, and ascending the Mount of Olives…..

If you have never been to the Holy Land I encourage you to go. A visit can only help your faith to grow.

Up to Jerusalem 2009: Part Two

Two weeks ago I had the pleasure of participating in the Divine Liturgy of St. James in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The setting of this service is actually a church within a church. The Greek Orthodox "chapel" (larger than many free standing churches) is found within the cavernous Church of the Holy Sepulchre between Golgotha and the Empty Tomb. A mark in

the floor of the nave actually marks the equidistant point. When a priest stands behind the altar he is actually looking out and can see into the empty

tomb. One receives the Body and Blood of Christ between the Cross and the Tomb. One is surrounded by beautiful icons on all the walls, and even above in the high domed ceiling. The choir voices filled the great space. There were perhaps a dozen men who served in and around the sanctuary as the Archbishop sat in the nave with the congregation.

This is the city where the church

began, this is the place where Christ's earthly ministry came to fruition. To be in that place for a Liturgy is unique, and extra special. I will never forget the experience.

One of those who accompanied me that day was Fr. Maximus Tatum. Yesterday, I had the pleasure of being in Portsmouth, Virginia at his first Divine

Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom for the new mission, Holy Myrrhbearers Orthodox Church. The service was

held in a borrowed chapel of another church, with few icons, a low ceiling, two other men in attendance and a small choir with a small congregation.

Portsmouth is a long way from Jerusalem, geographically and spiritually. To be in that place yesterday for a Liturgy was unique and special, and I will never forget the experience. You see, the Orthodox Church believes that whenever a Liturgy is held all of the saints are present, and that we are surrounded by the heavenly host. The same Body and Blood of Christ is partaken of regardless of where the service is held.

The words of the Cherubic Hymn are sung:

"We, who mystically represent the Cherubim,

And chant the thrice holy hymn to the Life-giving Trinity,

Let us set aside all earthly cares,

That we may raise on high the King of all,

Who comes invisibly escorted by the angelic hosts."

And, in addition, that service yesterday signaled the beginning of a new ministry as well as the work of a new minister. My thoughts and prayers are with Father Maximus as he begins this new work. May God bless all those who are a part of that ministry.

Up to Jerusalem 2009: Part One

The jet lag is fading, and the myriad of remembrances of my time in and around the Old City are congealing into useable form. There has never been a city like Jerusalem in the history of the world. Where else have the major world religions and the world's greatest armies contended for so long, and so earnestly, and sometimes at the same time? Where else have children continued to play in the streets while crossbows or machine guns (depending on the century) continued to kill? From the time of Melchizedek and Abraham until now Jerusalem stands apart in the history of the world.

I was thankful to have been able to spend so many days in and around the city. Not only was I able to see the holy sites, but I was able to interact with the people who live there: the fifth generation Greek dentist, the monks in the desert, the priests in the monasteries, the Patriarch of Jerusalem, Archimandrites, shopkeepers and venders: bedouin, Moslem, Christian, Israeli, and Jew. I had the opportunity to experience real miracles, although some are more dramatic than others.

One miracle is the faith and hope that is expressed by those Orthodox believers who live and work in the area. If you don't visit there you can't imagine it. If you don't live there you've never experienced it. I heard the Patriarch of Jerusalem say that the Orthodox are in that part of the world to provide "balance", to be a voice and a presence in a volatile part of the world that in his mind has a religious problem and not a political one. It takes great faith and hope to believe these things when for the better part of the history of the world this city has been a place of contention. I was amazed at the words of an Archimandrite, who spoke of the "greater Orthodox community" that includes Orthodox, Jews, and Muslims. He explained that due to "poverty, education, or necessity" many people cannot officially be Orthodox when in fact their faith and practice is very much Orthodox. He pointed to the palestinian community, and how important it is to keep material wealth in the family. The Latin church made concessions to allow first cousins to marry so as to accomplish this purpose, even though this church-sanctioned practice would be unheard of in any other part of the world. The result is that many have joined that church for the wrong reasons. He spoke of others who go from mosques to Orthodox sites to venerate icons or relics. They fear reprisals from family members if they were to convert. These men speak from a context that transcends the shortsightedness that many of us live in. These men speak from a faith that they know will eventually prevail. They have a living hope that is not shaken in the face of what stares back at them each day. They continue to labor in their field as obedient servants, trusting that the will of the Master will eventually prevail, whether in their lifetime or not.

Another miracle is my friend Nick. I don't think that he has ever met a person who he has not tried to befriend. In every quarter of the Old City he can't walk five steps without either meeting an old acquaintance or making a new one. He is a one man publicity machine. What does he publicize? Goodwill. Who does he emulate? Christ. With each smile,

shake of the hand, joke, or favor done, he is doing his part to be the peacemaker that our Lord Jesus Christ calls us all to be. I cannot fail to mention his basketball and soccer teams (made up of Moslems, and Christians) who travel around playing tournaments designed to keep kids out of trouble, and keep them engaged in learning that we all are made in the image of God, regardless of our religion, heritage, or ethnicity.

Another miracle is seeing myrrh flowing upward against gravity through marble from the tomb of St. George in the church in Lod. Through St. George's intercessions I was granted a miracle last summerthat many of you know about. The myrrh which is contained upon my handkerchief is a validation of that miracle of last year that continues to be. I was glad that this myrrh flowing was witnessed by two others, including one who is not Orthodox (but who may very well convert). I mopped the stone dry, and it continued to flow. Myrrh doesn't flow upward out of marble. Myrrh doesn't flow out of marble. People aren't aware of the miracles of the Triune God without His workings of grace and mercy in their lives. Ask Pharaoh. Ask Moses.

Half Empty or Half Full?

Half empty or half full? We've all heard the analogy. Let me rework it. I've had the opportunity over the years to either be a part of, or at least be around, many different subcultures within the Christian community. From snake handlers to Sword of the Lorders to Jesus Freaks to fried chicken loving low country Baptists to painted up high gloss (or dressed down ) Rick Warrenites to high church Brooks Brothers Episcopalians, I've been around, been a part of, or seen it all. One thing that does stand out is that every group seems to have a unique definition of what being "good" is. All would basically ascribe to the basic tenets of the Ten Commandments, but each tweaks what is acceptable, and what is not. Many of the differences center around what we can eat or drink, or what we do with our money. In other words: can I drink alcohol or eat pork, can I smoke, can I drive a Cadillac or do I have to drive a Chevrolet, or how long does my hem line have to be, or do I even have to wear a dress at all, or can I wear makeup and, if so how much, can I play bingo or the lottery, and how much money do I have to give to the church?

It is commendable that people try to do good things. But, when they start tallying up their good points versus their neighbor's is when the trouble begins. Folks begin to see their spiritual glass as more full than their neighbor's if they think that they are doing more of the things that they believe to be good and less of the things that they perceive to be bad. The sad part is that many of the people doing the comparing (or being compared to) may not be that virtuous anyway. We may be blind to their faults, their sins, and their motivations. We might even have a misguided sense of what we should emulate, or what we should flee from. The result is a healthy dose of pride that has the effect of overriding any of the good that our "goodness" might produce.

On the other hand, the Orthodox glass is always half empty. Actually, the Orthodox glass is practically empty. There may be one little drop in the bottom of our spiritual glass. We are encouraged in a multitude of ways to compare ourselves first to the life and example of the Lord Jesus Christ, and then to the lives of those people who, by consensus, are considered "Saints". (By the way, we also accept the New Testament sense of what a "saint" is.) These are people who acquired a closeness to God in this life beyond others, and who are illuminated by the work of the Holy Spirit. They performed miracles of various sorts in their earthly life, and they and their relics perform miracles after they repose. Their bodies do not undergo decay and produce other wonders from within the grave.

Comparing ourselves to these people one realizes that our lives are incredibly far from where God wants then to be. There is no room for comparison, and there is no place for pride to spring up within us. At the same time, we are to stand in front of icons of these great saints and be reminded of how high the standard is. From their icons they beckon to us to walk a path that will lead us to where they are.

We are also prohibited from comparing ourselves to the person standing next to us in church. The story of the publican and the sinner standing in the Temple is taken very seriously. We are to be concerned with our own spiritual state and to cry out, "Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner." As the Lord Jesus Christ chastised St. Peter when we asked what was to become of St. John, so we are chastised when we become embroiled in someone else's spiritual business. We are encouraged to see our glass as empty, and devote our energies to living a Godly life, waiting to be filled by the grace and mercy of God.

It is a breath of fresh air to be around Orthodox believers. There is no competition, no sense of competition to be more "Godly", and no whispering about who is doing what. Come along with me and raise your near empty glass.

The Story of St. Adrianos and St. Natalia

A name day is the day on which an Orthodox Christian celebrates the feast of his patron saint. If possible, one will attend Liturgy or another church service on their name day. Another tradition is for the family to include the saint's troparion and/or kontakion in the family's prayers. The icon of the saint is displayed prominently, usually on the family altar. Often, gifts are given to the person whose name day is being celebrated, as this day is seen to be more important than a (secular) birthday.

My wife and I were allowed to choose the names of a pair of saints who happened to be married. We did this because we had started our spiritual walk to Orthodoxy together and we felt that the story of this couple was a beautiful and moving one. Our name day is 26 August, and here is the story of our patron saints:

In the fourth century, the Roman Emperor Maximian cruelly persecuted all Christians. In a cave near Nicomedia in Asia Minor some Christians were hiding, and singing and praying the whole night to God. Maximian's soldiers seized these Christians, beat them and brought them in iron chains to the place of judgment, One of their chief judges, a young man by the name of Adrianos, seeing how patiently and how willingly the Christians suffered for their faith, asked what reward they expected to receive from their God for such tortures.' The holy martyrs replied: "It is written in Scripture that 'eye has not seen, nor has ear heard, nor has it entered the heart of man those things which God has prepared for those who love Him'" (I Cor. 2:9). Hearing these words, Adrianos walked out into the middle of the holy martyrs and said to the scribes who were recording the names of the martyrs: "Write down my name also together with those of these holy men, for I too am a Christian and shall die for Christ God in their company!" And immediately the scribes sent a message to the emperor informing him that Adrianos had declared himself to be a Christian and was asking them to inscribe his name among those of the condemned.

On hearing this, the emperor marveled and was filled with rage; and, summoning Adrianos into his presence, he asked him: "Have you taken leave of your senses, Adrianos? Or do you also desire a wicked end?" "No, I have not taken leave of my senses," he replied. "But, on the contrary, l have left great insanity behind me and I have finally attained to true and full mental health." "Do not argue," cried the emperor . "It would be better to ask forgiveness, to acknowledge before all that you have sinned, and to cross your name from the list of the condemned." "From now on," replied Adrianos, "I shall entreat the true God, that He forgive me the sins I committed as a pagan." Enraged all the more by Adrianos' words, the emperor Maximian then commanded that he be weighed down with iron chains and cast into prison with the other martyrs, appointing the day on which he would give them all over to torture.

When Adrianos' wife Natalia was told of her husband's conversion to Christ and of his imprisonment, instead of being sad, she greatly rejoiced for she was secretly a Christian herself and she knew the joy which now filled her husband's heart. She ran to the prison and, falling down at the feet of her husband, she kissed his chains and said, "Blessed are you, my Adrianos; you have found such a treasure." When Adrianos was brought before the Emperor and threatened with torture if he did not worship the pagan gods, Natalia and the other martyrs encouraged him saying: "Having been found worthy to carry your own cross and to follow Christ, take care that you do not turn back and lose your eternal reward."

Adrianos courageously endured the tortures and was returned to the prison. Natalia, and other pious women, would come and help the prisoners, cleaning and bandaging their wounded bodies. When the emperor found out about this, he forbade them to visit the prison. But Natalia had such love for the sufferers that she cut her hair and put on men's clothing. In this disguise she was able to enter the prison.

But when it became known to the emperor what the women had done, and also that the prisoners had weakened greatly as a result of their infected wounds and were barely alive, he commanded that there be brought to him at the prison an anvil and an iron hammer, that he might break the shins and arms of the martyrs, saying at that time: "Let them not die the violent death usual for such men!" And when the torturers and executioners came to the prison with the iron hammer and anvil, Natalia, seeing this and discovering the reason for their arrival, asked the servants that they begin with Adrianos, since she feared that her husband, seeing the cruel torture and death of the other martyrs, would become afraid.

The torturers went first to Adrianos. Then Natalia, lifting up her husband's legs, placed them on the anvil; the torturers shattered the martyr's shins and broke off his legs. "I beseech you, my lord, you servant of Christ," said Natalia, "while you are still alive, stretch forth your arm that they might break it, and you shall then be equal with the other martyrs who have suffered more than you have!" Adrianos stretched forth his arm to her, and she, taking it, set it upon the anvil. The torturer, striking the arm, broke it off, and immediately the holy Adrianos surrendered his soul into the hands of God, unable to endure further torment.

Having slain the Holy Adrianos, the torturers went with the anvil and hammer to the other martyrs, but they themselves placed their arms and legs on the anvil and said: "0 Lord, receive You our souls"

After this, the emperor commanded that the bodies of the martyrs be burned, that the Christians might not take them up and remove them for an honorable and Christian burial. But hearing of the emperor's command, Natalia secretly took her husband's arm and hid it so that it would not be burned. When the servants of the tyrant kindled a fire and carried the bodies of the holy martyrs out from the prison to be burned, Natalia and the other pious women followed behind them and gathered up the martyrs' blood in their costly garments and in bands of cloth. In this way preserving it, they anointed their own bodies with the blood. In addition to this, the women purchased from the servants of the emperor the martyrs' garments, which had been dyed with their blood. When the bodies of the saints were cast into the fire , the women cried out with tears: "Remember us, 0 our masters, in your everlasting repose!" But Natalia drew near to the fire, to cast herself upon it, desiring to offer herself up with her husband as a sacrifice to God, but she was restrained

Later, a pagan nobleman desired to marry Natalia. She cried and begged God to save her from this marriage. Having prayed fervently, Natalia fell from exhaustion and sorrow into a light sleep during which the holy martyrs appeared to her in a vision and said, "Peace be unto you. God has not forgotten your labors. We shall pray that you will come to us soon. Get on a ship and go to the place where our bodies are and the Lord will make Himself known to you."

Following their directions, the blessed Natalia reached Constantinople and going to the church where the bodies of the holy martyrs lay, she fell down before them and prayed. She was so tired from the journey that she fell asleep and saw in a dream her husband Adrianos, who said to her, "Come my beloved, and enjoy the reward of your labors." Very soon after this Natalia died peacefully in her sleep. Although she did not shed her own blood, she is numbered among the martyrs for having co-suffered with them, serving and encouraging them in their heroic struggles for the sake of Christ.

TROPARION:

Thou didst esteem the saving Faith as wealth that cannot be taken away, O thrice blessed one / And didst abandon the ungodliness of thy fathers / Thou didst accept the words of thy spouse and wast made radiant by thy contest, O glorious Adrian, / do thou entreat Christ God for us, / together with the Godly minded Natalia.

KONTAKION:

Having laid to heart the divine words of thy Godly minded spouse, / O Adrianos, martyr of Christ, / thou didst run ardently to the tortures, / and, with thy wife, didst receive a crown.

The Joy of Spectacles

30 little boys composed my third grade class at Sycamore Park Elementary School. Mrs. Aylor said that she would have no trouble handling us because she had raised boys, and boys that had gone on to West Point. And, she was right. She did handle us! I was happy to sit near the front of the room. This has been a pattern of my life that has been followed through public school, college, graduate school, and anywhere else that I find myself, including church.

At some point in that third grade year I complained to my mother that I was having trouble seeing what was on the black board (actually they were in the green phase at that time). So, off little Jeff went to the eye doctor. My mother was horrified to find that I had triple digit vision. In other words, I was nearly blind. (I think that she still experiences some unfounded sense of guilt over this.)

I will never forget the day that I went to pick up my new glasses. I can remember walking outside the office, and glancing down at the parking lot. I exclaimed out loud, "Mom, I can see the rocks in the road!" And, indeed, I could see the rocks in the road. Apparently, up until that point they had just been a gray mass under my feet. Apparently, the trees had been green blurs, and the blue ridge mountains..., well, you get the point.

Life was all new for me from that day. There was the downside of glasses steaming up on humid or cold days, worrying about rain drops, and such things. But, these were insignificant compared to the beauty of God's creation that I could now really see for the first time. And, I didn't have to squint at the board any more.

Not being in an Orthodox church is akin to this experience. The general forms and shapes are there. But, the detail, the beauty, and the mystery is lacking. The day I walked into an Orthodox service was a day very much like the day that I put on my first pair of glasses. There was no going back.

Spurgeon, Study, and Spiritual Diets

I am beginning to realize how difficult it is to overcome our preconceptions (or predispositions) about the spiritual life. For the last few years I have been on a path that has taken me away from my evangelical past. But, as I move forward in Orthodoxy I can look back over my shoulder and see methods and thoughts from the past that are still hanging around. One that leaps out is putting too much trust and emphasis on study.

Reading and studying are important. There are few things I would rather do than read a good book. And, coming into the Orthodox life, it is important to read the church fathers, the scriptures, and those more contemporary writers who are recognized as having something to say to a modern Orthodox community. A temptation is to think that reading a book somehow conveys the perceived spirituality of the writer upon the reader. Years ago, I read a book by the famous English Baptist preacher, Charles H. Spurgeon. It was entitled, "Humility and How to Get It". I joked that I read the book, but that it hadn't worked. Sadly, reading the treasures of Orthodoxy could be equally ineffective without living the Orthodox life.

I have become a great fan of the books of Metropolitan Hierotheos Vlachos. In his book, "The illness and cure of the soul in the Orthodox tradition" he emphasizes that it is not enough to be a part of the externals of the spiritual life if one expects to receive the healing of soul that comes through the church. Rather, one must come to experience the inner aspects of the faith, an ascetic lifestyle that leads from purification of the heart, to illumination of the nous, to deification.

In other words, there is a time honored way to come to know God. It is not a philosophy, it is not a religion, it is not an ideology, and it is not a method. The way is found in that spiritual hospital known as the Orthodox Church. The therapy that leads from purification to illumination to deification includes partaking of the Body and Blood of Christ, but it also involves making a decision to live the ascetic life under the authority of a spiritual father.

It is not enough for me to read the books of Orthodoxy. It's not enough to go to an Orthodox seminary, or even get a degree. Having the information deposited in my brain is not enough. I have to appropriate what is said. It's like reading a diet book. Reading the diet book won't help my weight control. I have to read the book and then start eating the way the book describes. And, I have to do it over a long amount of time, not over a day or a weekend, and certainly not when I feel like it. This is ascesis, this is discipline.

I'm learning that study (which has it's place) is more of a western than eastern concept. Orthodoxy is experiential, not intellectual per se. Granted, there have been some intellectual heavyweights who have written some of the foundational books of the faith. But, their illumination, and their vision of God's uncreated light is what makes them spiritually relevant, not their intellect. Living the spiritual life (actually praying, actually fasting, actually almsgiving, actually hoping in God's mercy) on a consistent, minute by minute basis, is essential therapy for my soul. That is what the great writers of the faith have done, and that is what we must do. Without turning away from the junk in my life, and turning toward the kingdom of heaven I will never be the person that God wants me to be. None of us will. Reading and studying is not enough. Living the life, and trusting in God's mercy is the only way.

Eighteen Inches Between Heaven and Hell

I've heard many protestant sermons about the famous "eighteen inches between heaven and hell", the idea that it is one thing to understand intellectually what we need to know to be saved versus internalizing that information into our heart. A verse that is often quoted is St. Paul saying, "If you confess with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." The place of the intellect in this is probably the most obvious. You have to know what to believe before you can believe, and before you can act (internally or externally) on that belief. The "heart part" is the more difficult one (intellectually and practically). In a protestant sermon it generally refers to somehow internalizing the message of the gospel and then acting upon it. However, any explanation of how this works is generally omitted. There is no precision in explaining how the heart operates. Peter Gillquist, of Campus Crusade for Christ fame, realized (along with hundreds of others from that camp) after many years that there was something wrong with the message. People knew the Bible, they knew many applications of the scriptures that were to enable them to live Christ-like lives. People were taught "spiritual breathing" to appropriate the working of the Holy Spirit in their lives, yet somehow after looking at thousands of examples, it was clear that the "method" was not working. For some reason, the heart was not being touched. His final solution, along with hundreds of others, was to join the Orthodox Church.

Since becoming orthodox, I have learned of the "nous". This is our spiritual receptor, that part of us that allows us to be in touch with the Divine. This is the part of us that allows an affecting of our heart so that we can be changed in the ways that our Triune God wants us to be changed. It seems to me that if our spiritual shepherds do not even know about the nous, and do not know what part it plays in our lives it is very unlikely that these shepherds can aid us in our lifelong quest for life in Christ. These shepherds may have the best of intentions, they may love us, but they don't have the staff to fend off our spiritual wolves.

As Metropolitan Hierotheos has pointed out, "the existence of the true Church is demonstrated by its success in curing man. We know from the teaching of the holy Fathers that the Church is the spiritual health centre, the spiritual hospital that cures man When we speak of illness and cure, we mean that the nous is ill and that it is cured. The cure of the nous is not independent of purification, illumination and deification. The aim of the Church is to cure this cognitive centre, so that man may attain the knowledge of God, which constitutes his salvation. Thus the existence of the true Church is shown by the degree of success by the results of the therapy. If it cures man, if it diagnoses the illness correctly and if it knows the way and method of therapy, then it is the true, not the secular, Church." He points out many examples of success, but this is outside our scope.

My point is this: it is rightly said that there are those important "eighteen inches", but unless one knows how to move across them to the heart, and once there has some idea of what to do, it becomes a futile exercise. It is very much like a doctor announcing that someone needs surgery, but then doing nothing about performing the surgery or recommending one who can. It's not enough just to acknowledge the problem. The result of this is a lifetime of frustration, as one knows that he is not where he wants to be spiritually, but yet he does not know what to do about it.

There has been much written about the nous. There is much that can be said. Google it for starters. Pick up a good book: anything by Metropolitan Hierotheos, or talk with an Orthodox priest or monk. That eighteen inches can be bridged, and it is a lifelong process.

Wheelchair or Little Red Wagon?

When my son was a youngster he found himself in the hospital for some surgery on his knee. When it was time to come home the doctor told him to climb up into a waiting wheelchair which would take him down to our car. Ian was adamant (as only a small boy can be) that he was not going to get into the wheelchair. After a few minutes it was clear that there was some deep seated conviction that was keeping him from the wheelchair. Finally, the doctor (who was a good surgeon and a bit of a psychologist as well) asked Ian if it would be okay if he rode down to the car in a little red wagon. Well, the frowns were lost, and through the tears the smiles came out. He hopped in the wagon, and off we went.

After we arrived home I asked Ian why he was so upset about the wheelchair. He looked up at me with his big blue eyes and said, "Dad, there were a lot of children at the hospital who were in wheel chairs and none of them could walk. I knew that if I got in the wheel chair that I would become like them and I would never walk again." I still get a tear in my eye thinking about that moment, and the logic of a child that led to such a moment. There is humor, looking back some 15 years, but at the time it was no laughing matter.

Sadly, we all are prone to apply the same kind of logic to our life experiences. Our Triune God has a wheelchair, a medicine, a plan, or a path that is in our best interest. When we see what He has for us, we recoil in terror, thinking that it will in some way inhibit us, or hinder us, or permanently scar us to such a degree that we will be rendered less than who we want to be, or less than who others around us expect us to be.

In some form or fashion we reject his Holy Church, we reject the teachings of the Apostles and Church Fathers, we do not prepare and partake of His Divine Liturgy, we don't avail ourselves of the prayers of the saints, we don't fast and pray, we don't give as we are able to cover the needs of the Church or those less fortunate around us. And, as a result our sin remains, our spiritual health suffers. We don't trust God because we don't think He knows best. We fear (albeit with great conviction) what we don't understand, and we miss out on what He has in store for us.

The Orthodox Church is that hospital, that wheelchair, that doctor, that surgery that we all need. It is not for me to say who will reside forever in heaven, whether Orthodox, or Catholic, or Protestant. But, I would urge my non-Orthodox friends not to reject the Church because of faulty reasoning. Come to some services, check it out, read the consistent teaching of the last two thousand years, and sample the depths of Orthodoxy.

Thankfully, our God is a merciful God. When we reject His wheelchair, He usually has a little red wagon for us to climb in to. I pray that we would all heed His call.

Catechumen

Becoming a catechumen in the Orthodox Church is a formal process, as are most things in the church. The ceremony takes place in the threshold of entering the place where the believers stand in worship. It involves a renouncing of one's past life and obedience to the Devil, an exorcism, and an acknowledgement of the Lordship of Christ. By taking this step one is saying that he/she is serious about following the path of Christian obedience. It is a time of preparing oneself so that when the time for baptism comes one will have a better understanding of what it means, both at the moment and for the rest of one's life. One is given a new name, that of a saint.

My months as a catechumen were times of longing. It was very difficult to be present for the Divine Liturgy and not be able to participate in receiving the Body and Blood of Christ. The Divine Liturgy is, at least, a weekly event. And, when Fr. Michael was our priest it was not uncommon to celebrate it multiple times in the course of a week. I tried to be at the Liturgy as much as I could, as well as the other services of the church.

These months were filled with weekly classes in which the basics of Orthodoxy were discussed, as well as personal study of the writings of the Church Fathers. Involvement in the services of the church was expected, as was personal prayer and devotion. I found myself having to evaluate my previous understanding of basic concepts of the faith. There was much that was very familiar. And, there was much that was different. There is a great deal to have to digest: the church calendar, fasting, behavior during the services, the diversity within the services, and the protocols of being within a hierarchical church.

It was customary in the early years of the church to baptize catechumens on Lazarus Saturday, the day before Palm Sunday. As it turned out, that was to be the day of my baptism. We had some discussion early on as to whether or not I should be baptized. I had been baptized by immersion when I was in high school in a Baptist church. Our priest was very emphatic that three fold immersion, "in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" was the proper way. I knew that I had only been put under the water one time, so it was determined that I would be baptized in the Orthodox manner.

It is easy to get caught up in the actions, and the concepts of a new type of faith. What cannot be lost is a living, breathing devotion and growing love for the true God. As I read the Church Fathers in conjunction with the Bible, I began to see that my concept of God was so very small. The Orthodox Church has such a greater appreciation of the greatness of God. The fathers say He is "uncircumscribed". I like that. And, as I studied, and as I prayed I found that God, or rather my understanding of what I don't know about Him, began to grow.

On this anniversary of the day that I first saw a Divine Liturgy, may God, through the prayers of Cosmas and Damian and all the saints, bless and bring us closer to His kingdom.

Sinatra and Woodstock: Youth and Old Age

It is a common thing to be amused at the sight of older people "acting" like younger people. As a youngster, seeing on television a group of blue haired ladies swooning over a very grey haired Frank Sinatra was a thing of amusement. And, the drama continues: forty years after Woodstock we have pudgy hippies getting misty eyed in the presence of the poets and minstrels who remain from that generation. I was amused at this behavior when I was a kid, my kids are amused at people of my generation who try to "act" like them. But, the fact is this: I can hear a song from the 1960's or 1970's and smell the interior of my 1968 Torino, or remember the feel of a particular day long ago, or be reminded of a person or an event. These memories of youth, evoked by a song, have a way of transporting one back to a far away moment. And, if one is dishonest to the self, one is once again young, healthy, and free from the baggage of growing old. The same can be said for the Christian experiences of my youth. It's easy to be transported by a Larry Norman song, to feel the warmth of a Son House worship service, or revisit the excitement of Friday night evangelism in the parking lot of the McDonald's. So, it is easy to understand (with time) why we are drawn by singers and songs back to earlier (perhaps simpler) times. Nostalgia reigns. Nostalgia deceives. Nostalgia distracts.

The truth is that the oldster cannot and should not go back. Youth is not a thing to long for. Wisdom comes with age. Would I trade my thimble of wisdom for the youth of my children? The answer is a resounding "no". Having their youth could not guarantee that I would find my way (or be drawn) to Holy Mother Church. It has taken my lifetime of faith, lack of faith, pain, joy, failure, distractions, steps and missteps to get to the lowest rung of the ladder that leads to the Eternal City of the King. It is better to let the past go. It is more profitable to look toward the eternal future, acknowledging that it will bear little resemblance to what I have become all too comfortable with in my earthly sojourn.

To the young people I say: your laughter at the old folks "acting" like you is a denial of your own mortality. If you live long enough you will be them. If you don't change your ways you may emulate them. Youth is an illusion. Some of the Fathers caution us not to be too attracted to youth. Men are reminded not to let their eyes rest too long on the young female forms that they pass on the street. After all, we are told, in a few short years those forms will be lying in the grave, unattractive, repulsive, fleshless bones covered with worms.

You don't have time to revel in your youth. You don't have time for the distractions that this world offers. You don't have time to put off till tomorrow the preparation for your eternal reward. You were made to walk in the Garden in the cool of the day with your Creator. Even in youth, you don't have enough time to prepare adequately. For this reason, we should all be thankful for God's grace and God's mercy.

So, when you hear that singer, whether it is Sinatra, McCartney, Bono, or whoever is popular today: let the voice pass in one ear and out the other. Take as little time as you can to savor it (if you must), and then dismiss it. Don't let it transport you anywhere for very long. Dwell on the heavenly things, and strive to be more ready each day for the angelic hand that will most certainly lead you before the One who made you and loves you more than you can possibly know.

Theologians are Scarce

There is no end to the number of books about Christian spiritually. As the expense of printing books lessened the number of books expanded. Now, with the internet, one doesn't even need pen and ink to write, and to reach a global audience. As a result, it is important to understand that one cannot blindly accept what one reads, even if it comes from some sort of "expert".

The Orthodox Church has been guarding itself against the so-called experts since the beginning: from the first discussions among the disciples, to the Jerusalem Council, to the great Ecumenical Councils, right back to the local parish priest who must discern what is being said and done among his own flock.

To those of us who have grown up with a western, scholastic model of learning the ways of the East are quite foreign. In the Orthodox Church, only three men have been given the title of "Theologian": the apostle John, the great cappadocian father Gregory of Nazianzus, and Symeon the New. These men exposed to the world what the Orthodox construe as true theology: knowing God (as compared to knowing about God).

Symeon was born around 949, as a young man worked in the imperial court in Constantinople, before turning completely to the spiritual life. Like many before him, he experienced the illumination of God in a brilliant light that encompassed him one night as he was praying. This illumination has been compared to the brilliance that shown on Moses' face when he descended with the Ten Commandments. This illumination is not at all foreign to those in the Orthodox tradition, and there are numerous examples of its occurance among those who live a virtuous life and who are devoted to prayer.

Symeon got himself in trouble with the local church authorities when he stated that only those who had received divine illumination should be speaking on divine things. Later, as people looked at his life, and at the things that he wrote he was given the title of "Theologian". Shortsightedness was overcome with illumination, time and context.

What all three of these Theologians had in common was extreme piety, direct experience of God (think of John's vision as recorded as the Book of the Revelation), and actions that matched their words. We would all do well to aspire to emulate their lives, and read what they wrote.

If we did we might shy away from the "vain speculations" that we are warned about in the New Testament. A case in point is trying to synthesize the so-called "higher criticism" of the Bible with the teachings of the Church. For example, the critics say that the Books of Moses in the Old Testament were written by four sources that they call J,E,P,D. The critics of the New Testament say that the synoptic gospels were not written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, but rather, they used a source called "Q" (of which there is not one shred of physical evidence among all of the thousands of pieces of the scriptures from the first few centuries) along with other sources.

My opinion is that if Jesus said that Moses wrote the Law, who are we to question Him ? Do we know more than the God-Man who we believed died so that we might live? Concerning the New Testament, it is no coincidence that we have written testimony of people like Clement and Ignatius who knew the gospel writers personally, and who testify to their authenticity. For my money, I will accept the testimony of first hand sources who were known as virtuous, Godly men before I will accept the testimony of theologians who write 2000 years after the fact, and who do not share any of the presuppositions that we do as Orthodox Christians.

Be economical with your time. Pray, read the scriptures and the great Fathers of the Church. Don't dwell on things that don't matter.

Pentecost

The  Orthodox Church keeps the remembrance of God ever before our eyes in a series of remembrances and commemorations.  They are participated in privately or corporately,  and are of a daily, weekly, or annual nature.

This Sunday is the commemoration of Pentecost in the Orthodox Church, the day that the Holy Spirit descended upon the Church as recorded in the second chapter of the Book of Acts.

Most icons of Pentecost show the apostles sitting, typically in a semicircle, which represents the unity of the Church.  At the top is another semicircle.  These  "tongues of fire"  represent the Holy Spirit  descending upon the individual members of the Church.  Christ, the invisible head of the Church, is represented by the vacant spot in the center of the apostles.  Unlike  Ascension icons, the apostles are sitting in an orderly manner.  This is representative of how their previous confusion has been replaced with the inner life of grace.  Like other icons, this one depicts events that transcend time and space:  Paul is shown, as well as the four evangelists who are holding their Gospels.  At the bottom is a stooped figure,  a representation of the whole world  once in darkness, but now lit by the light of apostolic teaching.

The great Serbian archimandrite and doctor of theology, Justin Popovich,  writes:

"The Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, tells us all the truth there is about Him, about God in Him and man in Him and all that is given us through Him. All this immeasurably transcends everything that the human eye has ever seen, the ear has ever heard, or has ever entered into the heart of man.

On the holy Day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descended from heaven into the theanthropic Body of the Church and remains eternally in it as its life giving Soul.  This the day of the Holy Spirit, which began on the  holy Day of Pentecost, is ever present in the Church in the inexpressible fullness of all the divine gifts and life giving powers.  Everything in  the Church comes about through the Holy Spirit from the least to the greatest.  

When the priest blesses the censer before censing, he prays to the Lord Christ to  'send down the grace of the Holy Spirit'.   The clearest testimony that the entire life of the Church comes from the Holy Spirit is at the consecration of a bishop when God's indescribable miracle, holy Pentecost, is repeated and the fullness of grace is given.

In fact, every holy mystery and holy virtue is a little Pentecost; in them the Holy Spirit descends upon us, into us." 

There is no Church without Pentecost.  There are no Christians without Pentecost.  There is no true worship without Pentecost.  There is no Pentecost without the death, burial, resurrection, and ascension of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Glory to God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!