(Feast Day ~ May 19)

So often we find, in the Orthodox approach to life, that issues are “both/and” instead of “either/or”. We learn from Holy Scripture that Christians are to be both in the world and in heaven; in the Liturgy, we express both sorrow for our sins (“Lord, have mercy upon us”) and joy at God’s gifts to us (“Glory be to God on High”);  in the lives of the saints we see both the contemplative way and the active way as paths to the heavenly kingdom. Christians are often called to a life of balance. St. Dunstan, holy abbot and bishop, provides an example of this balanced life.

Dunstan was born near Glastonbury in the year 910. A charming story is told of the Candlemas celebration when he was still in his mother’s womb. She was in the procession with the congregation, all carrying lighted candles, when suddenly and without explanation, all the flames were mysteriously extinguished. Just as suddenly, Dunstan’s mother’s candle rekindled itself and from her flame, the rest of the congregation re-lit their candles. Always open to signs from God, the people accepted this event as signifying that the unborn child would be a great light in the Church. This prediction proved to be accurate.

The boy was sent to the monks at Glastonbury Abbey for his education. After several centuries of attacks by Norse invaders, British monasticism – and civilization in general – had declined considerably, many monasteries were closed, and monastery lands had been taken over by powerful noblemen. Glastonbury, with its rich and long history, had survived this decline enough to prepare a young man for sainthood. Further study at Canterbury with his uncle Athelm, who was Archbishop, gave Dunstan more experience for a life of service in the church.

But then Dunstan went to court to serve under King Athelstan. Here he encountered jealousies and competition for power. At the age of 25, he was accused of practicing magic and studying pagan stories and was expelled from court. At this juncture in his life, Dunstan considered marriage, but with the encouragement of his uncle Athelstan, he instead took vows, was tonsured as a monk, and later ordained priest.

The “both/and” of combining spiritual and worldly concerns had already been established for Dunstan and now that approach continued. The young monk returned to Glastonbury Abbey where he lived as a hermit, spending many hours in prayer and fasting, in singing the Psalms and studying Holy Scripture. But at the same time that he struggled in these spiritual pursuits, he busied his hands with perfecting embroidery to beautify church vestments and with metal work, making bells for announcing the hours for prayers. He composed music [a Kyrie still in use has been attributed to him], painted pictures [ a book in the Bodleian Library in Oxford containing a picture of Dunstan prostrate at our Lord’s feet is considered by some to be Dunstan’s self-portrait], and it is said that he made organs [some of his tools still exist]. For the remainder of his life, St. Dunstan enjoined all the monks in his pastoral care to be engaged in some sort of practical craft consistent with the Benedictine rule under which they lived.

Dunstan was appointed abbot of Glastonbury monastery by King Edmund (who believed that Dunstan’s prayers had saved him from accidental death). Many new monks were inspired to pursue the ascetic life under Abbot Dunstan’s guidance and the disciplined life in this ancient monastery was renewed.

Abbot Dunstan continued to serve as a counselor to the king in civil affairs and he made no distinction between the spiritual and the secular. For King Edred, Dunstan provided safe-keeping for part of the royal treasury at Glastonbury Abbey. When the 15-year-old Edwy (Eadwig) became king, St. Dunstan publicly condemned him for lascivious behavior and for this, Dunstan was forced into exile to the monastery of Mont Blandin in Ghent. During the two years he spent there, he learned many things about the practice of monastic life which he brought back with him to Britain. When Edgar became king in 957, Dunstan was recalled to England and appointed Bishop of Worcester; he was moved to London as its bishop two years later, and then made Archbishop of Canterbury in 960.

Now Archbishop Dunstan had even greater opportunities for leading the life of “both/and”. Perhaps having in mind the Post-Constantinian Imperial ideal of Christian civilization, in which government and church worked hand in hand, he assisted in the establishment and carrying out of civil laws affecting the welfare and peace of lay people in villages and cities, and he promoted the reforms of English monastic life which were to remain in effect in Britain until the horrible destruction of the monasteries in the 16^th century. Civil laws were especially needed to put an end to the idea of the “blood feud”, effective penalties for violent acts had to be established, and methods for providing for the poor and destitute had to be created. The monasteries had to be re-established on their lands, the churches and other buildings restored, and the orderly life of work and prayer returned. Learning had to be renewed for the study of Scripture and the Fathers and for the proper conduct of services. Married clergy had been living as worldly property owners, living on inherited land which they passed on to their children, and accumulating other wealth. Dunstan’s desire was to restore the communal life of the monastery for the proper training of priests and from which to draw those suitable to become bishops. [Dunstan’s counsel to the king led to the passing of civil judgements to abbots and bishops. Fines and tithes were paid to the monasteries, and the resentment to the eventual accumulation of power and wealth which came of these practices contributed to the destruction at the time of the Reformation.]

After the martyrdom of King Edward in 978, St. Dunstan was less active at court, preferring to spend most of his time with his monks at Canterbury. The beloved archbishop celebrated the Divine Liturgy for the last time on Ascension Day, May 17, 988. He preached three sermons that day and bade farewell to the monks, telling them that he foresaw his death within three days. On May 19, Dunstan, faithful servant of God both in the church and in the world, fell asleep in the Lord. Many miracles associated with his relics were reported and the people began venerating him as a saint. Very soon after his death, May 19 was established as his feast day in the calendars of English churches.

May blessed Dunstan’s example of living in the world and in heaven, of being contemplative and active show us the pathway to holiness, and may he intercede for us at the heavenly throne.

[Sources: The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, tr. & ed. G. N. Garmonsway; The Anglo-Saxons, ed. James Campbell; From Alfred to Henry III (871-1277), by Christopher Brooke; Lives of Saints for Young People, Vol 5 (Saints of Holy Britain), by Archbishop Lazar Puhalo; The Oxford Dictionary of Saints, by Hugh Farmer; The Oxford Dictionary of the Christain Church, ed. F. L. Cross; The Pre-Conquest Church in England, by Margaret Deanesly; The Saints of Anglo-Saxon England, Vol. II (9^th to 11^th Centuries), by Valdimir Moss.]

Most of the earliest saints of the Church were martyrs, and for many of those saints, we have few historical details other than their names and the fact that they faced death rather than deny their faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. But a detailed report was written and preserved for future generations of Christians by Nilus, an eye-witness to the martyrdom of St. Theodotus, who suffered in the persecutions of Emperor Diocletian.

When Diocletian sent out his orders in 303 to arrest the followers of Christ and make them pay homage to the pagan Roman gods (through torture if necessary) or be killed, local officials were anxious to ingratiate themselves to the Emperor. The governor of Galatia promised to remove the Christian religion from his area entirely.

When the Christians of the capital city Ancyra (modern Ankara, Turkey) heard that the governor was on his way to their city, many of them fled to the mountains or remote rural areas to avoid the coming confrontations. But Theodotus remained in the city. He was an innkeeper, a respectable family man highly regarded in the community and a friendly merchant who served good wine to his customers and provided excellent accommodations for travelers. He knew that he would not immediately be suspect and that he could do much good for his fellow Christians in this time of persecution.

The atrocities began even before the governor’s arrival. Pagan citizens of Ancyra broke into the homes of their Christian neighbors who had fled, stole their belongings and damaged their property, and dragged children or other family members who had remained behind through the streets. But, as Nilus recorded, the situation became much worse when the governor arrived.

The order was given that any products which were bought or sold had to be given first as offerings to the pagan gods before use. Theodotus must have heard of this tactic being used in other places because he had carefully built up a stock of food and wine that he could secretly make available to his fellow Christians so they would not starve or have to compromise their beliefs. Many were put into prison and tortured for their faith and many were killed. At great risk to himself, Theodotus gave encouragement to those who were suffering and helped to retrieve and bury the bodies of the dead. The inn of Theodotus became a refuge for Christians, a place where they could hide and a place of worship.

The governor had not had much success in causing the Ancyran Christians to recant their beliefs. He thought he would have better luck with a group of seven elderly maiden ladies. He arrested them and then turned them over to a gang of young “hoodlum” men who were to rape and beat the women. But the tearful entreaties of the women and the appeal of one seventy-year-old to the honor of their mothers caused them to be sorry for what they had planned and to leave the women unharmed.

In desperation, the governor thought of another novel idea. He would have the women participate in a pagan ceremony honoring the goddess Diana which was to take place at a nearby pond. He placed the women – naked – into a chariot and they were paraded through the city where they were derided by the onlookers. At the pond, they were given white robes for the ceremony of placing offerings before the statue of Diana. Meanwhile, Theodotus and other Christians were in a nearby church building, praying for strength and perseverance for their friends. They later learned that the women had refused to accept the robes and participate in the ceremony and had strongly rebuked the priestesses of Diana for worshiping an idol. The governor had then placed heavy stones around their necks and had them thrown into the pond to their deaths.

The weather turned that night, with violent storms and much rain, but Theodotus and some others went out to try to retrieve the bodies of the martyred women so they could receive a Christian burial. Despite the weather conditions, they were successful, and the next day, the news had spread to all the city. As a result, the furious governor increased the arrests and torture of Christians. Theodotus decided to turn himself in so as to spare more pain for others, but the remaining Christians would not allow him to do it. They told him that his work was too important to end now. Polychronius, one of his friends who had helped find the bodies of the women, volunteered to be a spy. He dressed like a peasant woman and went to the market at the center of the city to try to learn what news was being talked about. But there, his true identity was discovered, and when he was taken to the governor and tortured, his resolve was too weak and he reported Theodotus’ activities.

The truth about the friendly inn-keeper was now made known to the governor. Theodotus was subjected to the most cruel tortures but he endured them all by constant prayer. Even his prayers incensed the governor, who ordered the soldiers to break the jawbones of the saint so that he could no longer utter verbal prayer. Finally, the order was given to behead Theodotus and to burn his body so that it could not be buried by Christians and his relics venerated by them. But when the pyre was made ready for burning, a strange light emanated from it and the soldiers were afraid to take any action. It was now dusk, so the governor placed two guards at the site and said that they should resume their work in the morning.

That same evening, a Christian priest from a neighboring town rode into Ancyra on his donkey. He had heard about some of the troubles in Ancyra and was anxious to talk with his friend Theodotus and see what he could do to help there. He had brought a bottle of wine which he made from his own grapes as a gift for Theodotus. When they reached the pile of wood being guarded by soldiers, the donkey lay down as if to sleep. Fronto, the priest, asked the guards what was going on and he heard the whole story of the persecutions, the murder of the seven women, and the eventual martyrdom of his friend. Fronto offered the guards some of his wine and as the story unfolded, he refilled their cups many times. When the soldiers finally fell into a deep sleep aided by the wine, Fronto took the body of Theodotus and returned to his home where he buried the martyr with all the rites and ceremonies afforded such a brave and devout Christian.

In our own day, there are persecutions of Christians in numerous places in the world, and every day, there are some who receive the crown of martyrdom. We ask that St. Theodotus and all the holy martyrs pray for them that they will be courageous and steadfast in their faith.

(Feast Day ~ May 16) 

St. Brendan epitomizes the Irish monastic: he was born into a devout family, his brother becoming a bishop and his sister an abbess; he was destined for the monastic life from an early age; he was keenly aware of the supernatural; and he carried the Irish desire for peregrinatio to an extreme, traveling in search of an “Island of the Blessed.”

Born in 484 in the southwest of Ireland, Brendan was baptized by Bishop Erc, who foretold his monastic future and entrusted his earliest spiritual direction to St. Ita. Returning to the bishop for further education at the age of 6, Brendan was ordained to the priesthood by him in the year 512, when he began his life as a monk. For many years, Brendan preached and taught and established monastic cells, eventually having spiritual responsibility for 3,000 monks. He led a very ascetical life and became known as a miracle worker.

A visiting monk who was a relative of Brendan’s told the story of his travels to a fantastic island, a story which whetted Brendan’s appetite for such travel. After many years of longing, he bade farewell in 565 to the majority of his monks, taking 33 of them with him, and embarked on a journey of his own that would last for seven years.

According to J. F. Webb, in the introduction to his translation of The Voyage of Brendan:

Pilgrimage to the Holy Land, the tombs of the apostles, and the shrines of the saints began as a popular movement in the fourth century and spread throughout the West during the fifth. The journeys undertaken were often hazardous and called for considerable endurance and sacrifice… Ireland devised its own form of pilgrimage, closely linked to the anchorite movement. The monk freely left his native land in order to release himself more completely from human ties and come closer to God in solitude [or with like-minded companions]. This voluntary exile was looked on as a battle in which the soldier of Christ went out to fight against the powers of darkness and to perfect himself through self-conquest.

The voluntary exile of such a pilgrim was also compared to that of Abraham who was commanded by God to leave his home and family in the land of Ur and journey toward a Promised Land.

The stories of the adventures of St. Brendan and his monks were told and retold for centuries: stories of the various islands which the monks discovered, of never-aging monks whom they met and who gave them hospitality, of birds who sang Psalms and fierce beasts who obeyed the commands of God, of strange and wonderful fruit, of barren and also lush terrain never before seen by the monks, of crystal columns in the midst of the sea. The Latin version of this tale probably dates to the 8th or 9th century and translations were made into French, English, Saxon, Flemish, Welsh, Breton, Irish, and Gaelic. The story as it has evolved through the years includes many incidents borrowed from the folk tales of other traditions (such as the Arabian Sinbad the Sailor, Scandinavian myths, and early pagan Irish imram, or tales of thrilling sea voyages).

But the story also includes evidence of the innocent faith of monks who trusted completely in the mercy and care of God and who believed that his will would always be revealed to them if they waited for direction and looked for a sign. It is also a story of the disciplined life of monks who, no matter what danger or inconvenience they faced (hunger and thirst, storms or lack of wind for sailing, no harbor for landing), never failed to sing the daily Offices or celebrate the cycle of liturgical feasts and fasts. The monks clearly expected miracles to happen as well and were always quick to give thanks to God for every blessing they experienced along the way.

After his return from this fantastic voyage, Abbot Brendan also visited Wales, Britain, and the Scottish holy island of Iona. He ended his earthly pilgrimage at a monastery of his founding at Annaghdown.

Interest in the voyage of St. Brendan has continued into our day, some suggesting that the monks were the first Europeans to discover North America. Despite one negative reaction in a 12th century poem chastising the abbot for neglecting the care of 3,000 souls by going off on such a journey (the manuscript is preserved in the library of Lincoln College, Oxford), the stories have served as an inspiration for centuries. Christopher Columbus may have been thinking of this story when, before his voyage of 1492, he wrote about the Island of Saint Brendan, which could only be reached through the will of God. In 1976, the Irish explorer, Tim Severin, built a boat to the specifications in the story of St. Brendan’s voyage, and successfully sailed from Ireland to Iceland and Newfoundland. His reports of seeing icebergs, whales, and other sights which would have been amazing to 6th century Irish monks lend credence to the stories.

Wherever our life’s journey takes us, may we, like St. Brendan, maintain a life of prayer and trust in God’s guidance. Holy Brendan, pray for us.

(Feast Day ~ May 14)

The goal of the Christian life is sanctification, union with God. We are to follow holy Scripture and the traditions of the Fathers, we are to pray fervently and partake of the Sacraments in striving for holy living. In our quest for “deification” we are to abstain from all that is sinful and which leads us away from God.

In the first centuries of the Church, martyrdom was often the shortest path to union with God, but as Christianity became accepted and favored in the Roman Empire, some chose to be “martyrs” to the world through monasticism.

St. Anthony of Egypt, in the late 3rd century, established the path of monasticism – of leaving the world for the desolation of the desert and the struggle to overcome temptation in isolation from others. St. Anthony is known as the “father of monasticism”; his way is known as the “eremitical” way.

A generation later, St. Pachomius of Egypt developed a different kind of monasticism, one in which sanctification was worked out in community with others. He is known as the founder of “cenobitic” monasticism.

Pachomius was born into a pagan family. At the age of 20, he was drafted into the Imperial army and during his service as a soldier, he was stationed in a Christian town and came in contact with the local people. He was impressed most of all by their kindness and generosity. When he was discharged from the army in 313, Pachomius became a catechumen and learned everything he could about the one True God. After his baptism, he decided to dedicate his whole life to God, so he sought out the hermit Palamon to learn how to live the ascetic life. Palamon at first refused the young man, testing his determination, but Pachomius’ perseverance convinced the elder of his sincerity.

After several years of austere desert living, Pachomius had a vision in which an angel instructed him to build a monastery outside the deserted village of Tabennisi – a monastery with cells for many monks. Following these instructions on faith, Pachomius soon found himself surrounded by seekers. Out of necessity, he began to formulate a “rule” for these men, based partly on what he had learned from Palamon and partly on the needs of a group of people living together as a monastic community. The men were organized into groups based on their work skills and everything about their lives (including what they ate, how they dressed and slept) was determined by referring to holy Scripture. Pachomius, as the father of the community, entered completely into the life of service which he expected of the other monks – he waited on tables, tended the vegetable garden, cared for the sick.

Abbot Pachomius was known as a healer and miracle worker, but he also knew that God did not always grant healing. He prayed for God’s will, not his own. He had many visions (like the one which began his monastic community) but warned his monks against seeking visions, as some were not from God but from the devil. He declared that the greatest vision was to see the “invisible God in the visible man who is his temple.” [quoted in Vida Prima Graeca, written c. 390 to record the memory of St. Pachomius by those who had known him.]

As the community grew, more monastic houses were founded by Pachomius, eventually totaling eleven (nine for men and two for women), and many who struggled to live a holy life in these communities also became venerated as saints (St. Silvanus the actor, St. Paphnutius, and many others). His rule influenced later monastic leaders (such as St. Basil and St. Benedict) as they developed rules for their communities.

Plague struck the monks in the year 345 and Abba Pachomius was among those who died. He was 60 years old and had given the greater part of his life in humble devotion to God. His first impressions of Christian love – witnessed in the community he met while a young soldier – had inspired him to show his followers that it is in service to others that we most clearly achieve sanctification. Holy Pachomius, pray for us.

(Feast Day ~ May 14)   

Time and time again we are reminded that God, in his infinite mercy, will receive even the most dissolute sinners if they repent of their sins and turn to him. The story of the Passion, which we hear many times in Holy Week, gives us the penitent thief as an example. The sermon of St. John Chrysostom, which we hear at the Paschal Vigil, reminds us that, even at the 11th hour, God will welcome sinners home.

Such a repentant sinner was Boniface, who served in Rome as the steward of the household of Aglae, a beautiful and wealthy pagan woman who lived a scandalous life. She was a well-known socialite who indulged in drunkenness, sexual promiscuity, and the dishonest acquisition of more wealth. Boniface was her right-hand man in these affairs. His only redeeming characteristic was his loyalty to his mistress.

The Christians of Rome were, at this time (the late 3rd century), experiencing relative peace, but in the East, persecution raged against the followers of Christ. When Aglae heard of the torture and killing of Christians and of how those who were spared took up the bodies of the martyrs, buried them with reverence, and then reported miracles of healing in connection with these relics, she determined to have some for herself. Perhaps she was feeling sorry for herself as the first signs of age and the results of debauchery became apparent; or perhaps she wanted to add another “charm” to her collection of amulets of superstition.

Aglae commissioned Boniface to travel to Tarsus to retrieve the body of a martyred Christian. He jokingly replied that he might lose his life in this venture and that it might be his body that would be brought back to her. Laughingly, she called him a “drunken old fool” and sent him on his way.

The journey from Rome to Tarsus afforded Boniface much time for thought. It also brought him news of the Christians who were being martyred – of their steadfast refusal to deny Christ no matter what the cost to themselves; of their perseverance in the face of great pain; and of how they forgave their torturers even as they were being put to death. Boniface’s worldview – which hitherto had focused on pleasure and financial gain, no matter what the cost to others – was being turned upside down. He began to feel the first stirrings of repentance within himself.

As he arrived in Tarsus, Boniface witnessed firsthand the trials of those who followed our Lord. His heart was so moved that he wanted to be numbered among those for whom Truth was valued above all the pleasures of this world.

Boniface called out to the soldiers that he, too, was a Christian, and he was immediately apprehended and subjected to torture. After enduring flogging and having his flesh burned, he was finally beheaded. As he had predicted in jest, Boniface’s body was now taken by servants of Aglae back to Rome for burial by his mistress.

An angel appeared to Aglae to tell her of this and she went out to meet the servants as a changed woman. She buried the body of her steward and spent the remaining years of her life repenting of her sins and those which the two had committed together. She gave away her wealth to help the poor and built a church as a monument to Boniface.

In the words of St. Nikolai Velimirovic of Ochrid, “martyrdom for Christ makes sinners into saints.” May St. Boniface pray for us that our repentance may lead us to holier lives.

(Feast Day ~ May 7)  

Elements of our Lord’s story of the Prodigal Son can apply to most of us at some time or other in our lives. We have all abandoned our father’s “house” for what appears to be a more advantageous life of our own choosing. When we come to our senses, we realize that we must return to the love we experienced at home.

This story is also applicable to many members of a religious body – Uniate Christians – who returned to the fold of the Orthodox Church in the late 19th century. St. Alexis Toth led the way for this wonderful reunion.

Alexis was born in 1853 in Hungary (Slovakia). Although the “Greek Catholic” Christians of this area had originally been Orthodox, they had been forced into a political union with Rome in the 16th century and the official church of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was the Roman Catholic Church.

Alexis’ father was a priest and the son followed in his father’s footsteps when he entered first the Roman Catholic seminary and then transferred to the Uniate Greek Seminary in Ungvar. He pursued further education in theology at the University of Prague before his marriage to Rosalie, the daughter of a priest in 1878. Later that year, Alexis was ordained to the priesthood by Bishop Nicholas, the Greek Catholic bishop of Presov. After two years of serving a parish, Fr. Alexis became a teacher of canon law and church history in the seminary in Presov. Not long after, Rosalie and the couple’s only child died.

A petition was sent from America asking for a priest to be sent to Minneapolis to minister to the immigrant community who had established St. Mary’s Russian Orthodox Greek Catholic Church in that city. In 1889, the widower Fr. Alexis was sent to fill this need. He found a church with an incomplete building, no furnishings or vestments, but a considerable debt. In the first year – without receiving a salary – Fr. Alexis worked tirelessly to acquire the necessary liturgical items, to preach to his flock, and to gather donations to cover the debt owed. From his own savings, the priest bought a house and opened a grocery store in which he worked as a baker. With income from this small business, Fr. Alexis assisted poor members of the parish and employed a caretaker and a chanter for the church.

Another task which Fr. Alexis had to take on was to meet with the local bishop of Minneapolis and St. Paul, Bishop John Ireland. As his name would indicate, this Roman Catholic bishop was of Irish decent and was not inclined to be sympathetic to the newer immigrants from Eastern Europe. He (and many other American Roman Catholic bishops at this time) was anxious to have his people assimilate into the general American culture. When he met with Fr. Alexis, his anger was sparked on several levels.

At the meeting, Fr. Alexis kissed the bishop’s ring according to custom, but he neglected to kneel before the bishop, thus beginning their meeting on a bad note. When the bishop saw from the credentials that he presented that Fr. Alexis was “Greek Catholic”, his first question was “Do you have a wife?” The fact that Fr. Alexis was a widower did not diminish the bishop’s anger. He told him that he did not consider him a Catholic and would not allow any Catholics under his jurisdiction to attend any services conducted by Fr. Alexis.

After this unhappy encounter, Fr. Alexis wrote to his Greek Catholic bishop in Slovakia and to Rome for advice on what to do, but he received no replies. Other Uniate priests told Fr. Alexis that they had encountered the same sort of treatment from the Roman Catholic bishops in America. They found out that a plan was to be implemented in which all Eastern Rite priests would be sent back to Europe and only the Latin liturgy would be allowed in America.

Fr. Alexis realized that for a long time he had been yearning to return to his full religious heritage in the Orthodox Church. His ancestors had been Orthodox for centuries and had only become affiliated with the Roman Catholic Church through political coercion. But his people were completely uninformed about the history of their status. Fr. Alexis prayed that he would be able to explain it to them and prepare them for the change they needed to make.

The first step was to contact an Orthodox bishop. But, just as it is today, the Orthodox Church was the “best kept secret” in America. No one knew who the bishop was or where he resided (some thought in Alaska and others thought in California). Contact with the Russian Embassy in San Francisco provided the name of Bishop VLADIMIR and his address in San Francisco. A representative was sent from Minneapolis to meet with Bishop VLADIMIR, who then came himself to Minneapolis to meet with Fr. Alexis and other uniate priests who wanted to return to Orthodoxy.

On the Sunday of Orthodoxy in March of 1891, Fr. Alexis and 361 of his Ruthenian immigrant members were formally received into the Russian Orthodox Diocese of Alaska and the Aleutian Islands. Like the prodigal son in our Lord’s parable, they had finally returned to their “father’s house” after 250 years of an uneasy political union with Roman Catholicism.

Despite the joy surrounding this momentous change, there were still turbulent times ahead for Fr. Alexis. His parishioners in Minneapolis succumbed to the all-too-frequent convert ailment of becoming “super” Russian Orthodox. They abandoned their centuries-old traditional style of congregational singing in favor of a choir singing Russian music and they turned against their Hungarian priest and demanded a Russian one. But gradually, other uniate parishes joined in the return to Orthodoxy. As the area around Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania had been settled by many Carpatho-Russian immigrants to America, Fr. Alexis moved to this city and continued to preach and teach the basic truths of the Orthodox faith. During this time, he wrote a catechism (entitled “Where to Seek the Truth”) and established an aid society to help new immigrants. Through his efforts, 20,000 former Eastern Catholic Christians in 17 parishes were brought back into the fold of Orthodoxy.

Fr. Alexis fell asleep in the Lord on May 7, 1909 and was buried in a special shrine at St. Tikhon’s Monastery in South Canaan, Pennsylvania. He was glorified by the Orthodox Church in America on May 29, 1994 and is now venerated as St. Alexis of Wilkes-Barre. We praise God for the life and witness of this courageous saint and we ask for his prayers as we also seek to bring others to the truth of Orthodoxy.

[Sources: Portraits of American Saints, compiled and edited by George Gray and Jan Bear; and the websites of The American Carpatho-Russian Orthodox Diocese of the U.S.A., the Orthodox Church in America, and Orthodox Wiki.]

During the month of May, when the secular world around us pays tribute to motherhood, the church celebrates the sanctity of a mother whose perseverance is an inspiration for all Christian mothers.

St. Monica was born in Tagaste, North Africa, around the year 332. Although her parents were Christians, they arranged a marriage for her with a pagan, Patricius. The marriage was made extremely difficult for Monica because Patricius had a violent temper, was frequently unfaithful, and was critical of Christians and their beliefs. His mother, who shared his views, also lived with the couple. Three children were born of this union: a son, Navigius, who evidently led a fairly normal life; Perpetus, a daughter who became a nun; and Augustine, who eventually became St. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo and Doctor of the Church. It is because of this son’s wild and willful youth and his early resistance to Orthodox Christianity that his mother’s great faith and perseverance are known to us.

Early in life, Monica had to overcome a tendency to heavy drinking, and this may have helped her to develop the will power and determination that would later be needed. Despite the verbal and emotional abuse of both her husband and her mother-in-law, she offered prayers daily for their conversion and her reward was Patricius’ baptism the year before his death.

In the meantime, their son, Augustine was developing his great intellectual gifts in a completely independent way. Although enrolled by his mother as a catechumen, he was considered by the priest to be “not yet ready” for baptism. He was sent to Carthage to study rhetoric, became adept at philosophical debate, and became a follower of the heresy of Manichaeism, which was an offshoot of Gnosticism.

Augustine resisted discipline in other aspects of his life – he took a mistress, who lived with him for many years and with whom he had a son, Adeodatus, and he fully participated in drunken carousing, and attending the Roman games.

St. Monica’s first approach to the direction of her wayward son’s life was to refuse to allow him in her house, but at the encouragement of her priest, her anger and attempts at arguing with him soon gave way to the tears and prayers of a mother who trusted that God would never let her son go. Monica took on the task, not only of prayers for Augustine, but also that of being the constant (but gentle) reminder to him of what the Christian life should be like. As Augustine relates in his Confessions:

“But wouldest Thou, God of mercies, despise the contrite and humbled heart of that chaste and sober widow, so generous in alms deeds, so full of duty and service to Thy saints, no day passing without an offering at Thine altar, twice a day, morning and evening, without any intermission, coming to Thy church, not for idle tattlings and old wives fables; but that she might hear Thee in Thy discourses, and Thou her, in her prayers? Couldest Thou despise and reject from Thy aid the tears of such an one, wherewith she begged of Thee not gold or silver, nor any changing or passing good, but the salvation of her son’s soul?”

Monica tried to follow Augustine to Rome, but he escaped from her for a while by lying about his departure time. The mother’s prayers began to bear fruit when she joined her son in Milan, where he had gone to teach in 386. Augustine had by this time given up Manichaeism, but was not yet a Christian and his mistress had left him to return to Africa. In Milan, he came under the influence of Bishop Ambrose, who regarded Monica very highly and was able to help bring about the conversion of her son through his preaching and suggested readings.

Finally, Augustine went into seclusion with his mother, brother, son, and a few friends to prepare for baptism and, on Easter of the year 387 – to the great joy of Monica – was baptized by Bishop Ambrose and became a member of the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church.

Her son’s baptism was the culmination of Monica’s life work. Soon after, as the family and friends were on the return journey to North Africa, she fell ill, and in response to her son’s concern regarding her imminent death in a foreign land, replied: “Son, for mine own part I have no further delight in any thing in this life. What I do here any longer, and to what end I am here, I know not, now that my hopes in this world have been accomplished. One thing there was, for which I desired to linger for a while in this life, that I might see thee a Catholic Christian before I died. My God hath done this for me more abundantly, for I see thee now, despising earthly happiness, become His servant…Lay this body any where, let not the care for that in any way disturb you: this only I request, that you would remember me at the Lord’s altar, wherever you may be.”

At the age of 55, St. Monica died and was buried in Ostia. Her relics were later translated to the San Agostino Church in Rome. God, who through a faithful and devoted woman sent his Son for the redemption of the world, had brought another son to the knowledge of the Son through another faithful and devoted woman. We give thanks for the life and witness of St. Monica.

Having just experienced again the drama of Holy Week and Pascha – having walked the way of the Cross with our Lord, lamented his sufferings and venerated his Cross; having run to see the empty tomb and rejoice in his Resurrection – we now celebrate the recovery of this most sacred relic which is at the heart of all our Holy Week observances, the True Cross. The Church provides us with a feast day for giving thanks to God for St. Helena’s discovery of the Cross.

The events on which this feast day is founded are told in the Breviary:

The discovery of the relics of the true Cross, which resulted from the excavations in preparation for the several shrines built over the holy places of Mount Calvary, hath for many centuries been told in the following fashion. In 326, some fourteen years after the victory which the Emperor Constantine gained over Maxentius (on the eve of which the ensign of the Lord’s Cross had been so wondrously revealed to him), his mother Helena was warned in a dream to seek for the Cross at Jerusalem. Now the heathen had erected on Mount Calvary an image of Venus, the goddess of sensuality, to desecrate and destroy this holy place as a memorial of the sufferings of the Lord Christ. This statue, which had stood on Golgotha for nigh onto one hundred and eighty years, Helena took care to have cast down. The like work she did at Bethlehem, by cleansing from an image of Adonis the stable where the Savior was born; and again at Jerusalem, by taking away an idol of Jupiter from the place where Christ had arisen from the dead.

When Helena had thus cleansed the place where the Cross had stood (so the ancient story goeth on to say), she caused deep excavations to be made, which resulted in the discovery of three crosses; and somewhat apart from then the Title or superscription which had been nailed on that of the Lord. Which of the crosses had been his was unknown, but was made manifest in a wondrous fashion. Macarius, Bishop of Jerusalem, after offering solemn prayers to God, touched with each of the three a woman who was afflicted with a grievous disease. The two first had no effect, but at the touch of the third she was straightway healed.

Helena, after she had found the life-giving Cross, built at Mount Calvary a church of extraordinary splendor, wherein she deposited part of the Cross, shut up in a silver case. Another part, which was given to Constantine, was laid up in the church which he built at Rome on the site of the Sessorian Palace, and named the church of the Holy-Cross-in-Jerusalem. It is also believed that Helena gave to her son Constantine the nails with which the most holy Body of Jesus Christ had been pierced. And then Constantine enacted a law that no cross should in any wise be used as an instrument of punishment. And thenceforth what had hitherto been a hissing and a curse among men, began to be esteemed worshipful and glorious. In particular, this feast is kept in honor of the many graces which Christians do constantly find in their devout remembrance of the Cross of our redemption.

We give homage to Christ and the Cross in the words of Dom Proper Guéranger:

Christ crucified is the power and wisdom of God. Thus spoke thine Apostle, O Jesus, and we are witnesses of the truth of his words. The Synagogue thought to dishonor thee by nailing thee to a Cross, for it was written in the Law, “Cursed is he that hangeth on a tree.” But, lo! This gibbet, this Tree of infamy, is become the trophy of thy grandest glory! Far from dimming the splendor of thy Resurrection, the Cross enhances the brilliancy of thy magnificent triumph. Thou wast attached to the Wood – thou tookest on thyself the curse that was due to us; thou wast crucified between two thieves; thou wast reputed as an imposter, and thine enemies insulted thee in thine agony on this bed of suffering. Hadst thou been but man, O Son of David, all this would have disgraced thy name and memory; the Cross would have been the ruin of thy past glory; but thou art the Son of God, and it is the Cross that proves it. The whole world venerates thy Cross. It was the Cross that brought the world into submission to thee. The honors that are now paid it, more than make amends for the insults that were once offered it. Men are not wont to venerate a Cross; but if they do, it is the cross on which their God died. Oh, blessed be he that hung upon the Tree! And do thou, dearest Crucified Jesus, in return for the homage we pay to thy Cross, fulfil the promise thou madest us: “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things unto myself.”

That thou mightest the more effectually draw us, thou this day permittedst us to find the very Wood, whereon thou stretchedst forth thy divine arms to embrace us. Thou deignedst to give us this holy instrument of thy victory, and which is to shine near thee in the heavens on the day of judgment; thou mercifully confidedst it to our keeping, in order that we might thence derive a salutary fear of Divine Justice… Thou also gavest us this most precious relic, that it might excite us to a devoted love for thee, O Divine Victim, who, that we might be blessed, didst take upon thyself the maledictions due to our sins. The whole world is offering thee, today, its fervent thanks for so inestimable a gift. Thy Cross, by being divided into countless fragments, is in all places, consecrating and protecting, by its presence, every country of the Christian world.

Oh, that we had St. Helen’s spirit, dear Jesus, and knew, as she did, the breadth, and length, and height, and depth of the mystery of thy Cross. Her love of the mystery made her so earnest in her search for the Cross. And how sublime is the spectacle offered to us by this holy Empress! She adorns thy glorious Sepulchre; she unburies thy Cross from its grave; who was there, that ever proclaimed with such solemnity as this, the Paschal Mystery? The Sepulchre cries out to us: “He is risen: He is not here!” The Cross exclaims: “I held him captive but for a few passing hours: He is not here! He is resplendent in the glory of his Resurrection!” O Cross! O Sepulchre! How brief was the period of his humiliation, and how grand the kingdom he won by you! We will adore, in you where his feet stood, making you the instruments of our Redemption, and thereby endearing you ever to our respectful love. Glory, then, be to thee, O Cross, dear object of this day’s festival! Continue to protect this world, where our Jesus has left thee. Be its shield against Satan. Keep up within us the twofold remembrance, which will support us in all our crosses – the remembrance of Sacrifice united with Triumph; for it is by thee, O Cross, that Christ conquers, and reigns, and commands.

Lo, the blest Cross is displayed, where the Lord in the flesh was suspended, and, by his Blood, from their wounds cleansed and redeemed his elect.

Where, for us men, through his love, became the victim of mercy, he, the blest Lamb, his sheep saved from the fangs of the wolf.

Where by his palms transpierced he redeemed the world from its ruin, and, by his own dear death, closed up the path of the grave.

Strong in thy fertile array, O Tree of sweetness and glory, bearing such newfound fruit ‘midst the green wreaths of thy boughs:

Twining about thine arms is the Vine, from whom in its fulness floweth the blood-red juice, Wine that gives life to the soul.

Crux benedicta nitet – Venantius Fortunatus (c. 530-609), tr. John Mason Neale and G. H. Palmer

from the St. Ambrose Hymnal

Christianity abounds in apparent contradictions with the world around us. Our symbol of triumph – the Cross – is, in the eyes of the world, a vehicle for execution and a symbol for failure. Our Savior’s call for loving our enemies and turning the other cheek is viewed as weakness by the world. Persecution by the forces of evil and martyrdom have often led to growth and strengthening of the faith in the Church. The personal characteristics of Christians contradict the ways of the world: perseverance and faithfulness are considered stubbornness and defiance; defending the truth is thought of as inflexibility and intolerance. St. Athanasius provides us with a perfect example of these contradictions. He was truly in this world but not of it.

Athanasius showed great promise from an early age. Born around 297 in Egypt of Christian parents, he received the best education that Alexandria had to offer and he proved to be an apt student, devoted to the study of Scripture and to serving the Church.

After ordination to the Diaconate, Athanasius accompanied Alexander, the Patriarch of Alexandria, to the First Ecumenical Council, held in 325 to settle the question of the nature of Christ. Athanasius spoke eloquently against Arius and his heretical views and helped to establish the Orthodox understanding of our Lord Jesus Christ, acknowledging Him as both God and man. On the death of Patriarch Alexander in 328, Deacon Athanasius was selected as his successor. In worldly terms, this young man had been quite successful in his “career”!

But while Patriarch Athanasius began his pastoral work peacefully and quietly, teaching the people and caring for the poor, the followers of Arius were working in political and legal circles to counteract and discredit him. A decade later, the Patriarch was forced into exile – the first of numerous such persecutions over his lifetime. At one point, the “whole world groaned to find itself Arian.” In exile, he spent time in Rome (339-46), Trier (355-7), and areas surrounding Alexandria, including desert monasteries where he hid at various times (356-61, 362-3, 365-6), eventually writing an influential biography of St. Anthony of Egypt. Added to these periods of exile were lawsuits and slanderous rumors. According to the world’s standards, the bishop was now a miserable failure.

But by God’s “contradictory” way, these troubled times brought greater wisdom and resolve to the saintly bishop and stronger devotion among his flock who trusted his guidance. St. Athanasius used his time in exile to write treatises on the Orthodox faith, works which, within a few hundred years, were known throughout the world. These works helped to defeat the Arian heresy, finally, and they have continued to guide Christians in every age.

The last years of St. Athanasius’ life were once again ones of peaceful, pastoral work, although he died eight years before the Second Ecumenical Council would vindicate his work against Arianism. He reposed in the Lord in 373 on May 2, the day we celebrate as his feast day, his “heavenly birthday.” May almighty God give us strength, like holy Athanasius, to contradict the ways of the world, to resist the world’s standards, and to remain steadfast and faithful all our days.

As part of our 10th anniversary celebrations in 2006, some of us wrote descriptions of our journeys into Orthodoxy – the stories of our conversion to this faith and way of life. Many of these stories reveal a slow, gradual path (some with detours and tangents along the way) before we finally found the home we were searching for. These stories are a precious part of the history of our parish as well as the invaluable record of our individual lives.

The pages of holy Scripture tell similar stories. The entire Old Testament is a record of the gradual understanding of the chosen people of the working of the one true God. The New Testament, particularly, is a record of events which changed the lives of numerous people, as they came to know our Lord Jesus Christ. In the Gospels, we have been given wonderful conversion stories for our inspiration. On April 25, the Church honors one of the Gospel writers, St. Mark the Evangelist.

It is thought that Mark wrote his Gospel based on the teachings and memories of St. Peter in addition to his own first-hand knowledge. This Gospel was probably written for Christians in Rome after the martyrdom of Ss. Peter and Paul in that city (in the year 65) and shortly before the fall of Jerusalem in the year 70. In this Gospel, we hear the conversion stories of the Apostles, as Christ calls them out of their ordinary lives to participate in his ministry of teaching and healing (Mark 1:16ff). We hear of the strong belief of the woman who had the flow of blood (Mark 5:25ff), who knew that just by touching our Lord’s garment she would be healed and receive his affirmation: “Thy faith has made thee whole.” We read of blind Bartimaeus who, in faith, cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me” and received his sight.

Holy Scripture reveals to us some of St. Mark’s own story. The young man described in Mark 14:51-52, who came to investigate the commotion in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night of Jesus’ arrest and who ran away leaving behind his linen wrap, is thought to have been Mark himself. We hear (in Acts 12:12) that his mother was a follower of Jesus and that her home in Jerusalem was used as a meeting place for Christians. Having spent his youth immersed in the fledgling Christian community, John Mark (as he is called in these passages) was taken by his uncle Barnabas and Paul when they went to Antioch after bringing famine relief to Jerusalem (Acts 12:25). Mark then accompanied St. Paul and St. Barnabas on their first missionary journey (Acts 13:5), but Mark soon returned home to Jerusalem. For a while, Mark traveled only with Barnabas, but was eventually reunited with Paul, who described him as “useful to me for ministry” (2 Timothy 4:11). Mark also joined in the missionary efforts of St. Peter, who called him “my son.” (1 Peter 5:13).

From the writings of historians and some of the fathers of the Church, we learn other details of St. Mark’s life – how he traveled further and established churches in more distant lands, primarily in Egypt.

God had been preparing the land of Egypt for many years. Greek culture and language had existed in Egypt since the time of Alexander the Great and the large Hellenized Egyptian Jewish community had translated the Old Testament into Greek. Egypt was hallowed by the presence of the infant Jesus, his blessed Mother and St. Joseph, as they fled Herod’s massacre in Bethlehem. During the Passover observances at the time of the crucifixion and resurrection, there were undoubtedly Egyptian Jews present in Jerusalem who heard the amazing stories of Christ.

And then, around the year 49 or 50, St. Mark came to Egypt to preach the good news of salvation through Christ. The evangelist preached in the cities of Pentapolis and Medion and then established the church in Alexandria, where he remained to serve as the first bishop.

St. Mark taught both Jews and Gentiles and, despite great opposition from the rulers of the pagan temples in Egypt, Christianity began to flourish there under the care of Bishop Mark. The Liturgy in use today in Egypt is attributed to him. He founded a Christian catechetical school (which emphasized allegorical interpretation of Scripture) in Alexandria which in time rivaled the famous philosophical and scientific school and library.

Around the year 74, the great feast of Pascha fell on April 24, coinciding with the pagan Egyptian festival of the god Serapis. As the Christians gathered with their bishop in the church for the Paschal services, a huge mob also gathered for the pagan ceremonies. The mob became enraged at the Christians and they seized the bishop, bound him and dragged him through the streets to prison. Severely wounded, St. Mark had a vision of our Lord Jesus Christ that night in his prison cell. He gave thanks for the privilege of being counted worthy to endure suffering for His Name. In the morning, St. Mark received more injuries, this time fatal ones. As the crowd was preparing to burn his body in the street, a sudden, violent storm broke out and rain drenched the fire that had been set. So the Christian community was able to retrieve the body of their beloved bishop and bury him in a stone tomb. Here, they held services until 310, when a church was built over the tomb. In 828, after Islam had come to dominate Egypt, St. Mark’s relics were removed and taken to Venice and kept in the cathedral named for him there.

St. Mark’s death ended his earthly life, but the Gospel stories which he left us and the churches he established have shown the way to eternal life for countless Christians since then. We give thanks to God for the witness of St. Mark the Evangelist.