Category Archives: church

He thirsted, and drank deeply.

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When I arrived on the church property this morning on St. Justin’s day, I saw three trees in pots sitting by the front porch, waiting to go in and become part of the decoration for Pentecost Sunday. I walked around and took pictures of the landscape with its ever changing color display. Throughout the morning people were coming and going, for the service and for other activities connected to the upcoming feast. A crew was cooking in the kitchen, and out on the patio women arranged flowers.

Four of us were in the temple ironing green altar cloths and replacing the white ones that have been the theme since Pascha, almost fifty days ago. A few of the icons are so heavy, it takes two of us to lift the big box frame from its stand, while the third set of hands slides off the white satin hanging and arranges the fresh green cloth as straight as possible; then the saint’s image is laid down to rest again.

Before any of that, the Liturgy in honor of St. Justin was served in our little church; one of our group who bears the name of Justin was directing the minimal choir. It may be that I never before attended a Divine Liturgy for St. Justin, though I have mentioned him on my blog. In any case, I didn’t remember the hymns of the feast, which draw attention to his title as Philosopher, and his ability to defend the faith in words, and to witness to it by his death. I was moved by their poetry.

You emptied the cup of the wisdom of the Greeks,
but you thirsted again,
until you came to the well where you found
water springing unto eternal life.
And having drunk deeply,
you also drank from the cup
which Christ gave to His disciples.
Therefore, O Justin,
we praise you as a Philosopher
and Martyr of Christ.

O Justin, teacher of divine knowledge,
you shone with the radiance of true philosophy.
You were wisely armed against the Enemy.
Confessing the truth, you contested with the Martyrs,
with them, O Justin, always entreat Christ to save our souls.

On this page, you can read the life of the saint: St. Justin the Philosopher.

He lived in the second century, and wrote his second Apology, addressed to the Roman Senate, in 161, soon after Marcus Aurelius became emperor. He had been able to persuade the previous emperor, Antoninus Pius, to stop persecuting Christians, at least for a time. The Cynic philosopher Crescentius, who reportedly always lost debates against Justin, had a part in his death, as out of envy he denounced him to the Roman court, after which Justin and six friends were imprisoned, tried and beheaded. The following is considered to be the court record of the trial (Wikipedia):

The Prefect Rusticus says: Approach and sacrifice, all of you, to the gods. Justin says: No one in his right mind gives up piety for impiety. The Prefect Rusticus says: If you do not obey, you will be tortured without mercy. Justin replies: That is our desire, to be tortured for Our Lord, Jesus Christ, and so to be saved, for that will give us salvationand firm confidence at the more terrible universal tribunal of Our Lord and Saviour. And all the martyrs said: Do as you wish; for we are Christians, and we do not sacrifice to idols. The Prefect Rusticus read the sentence: Those who do not wish to sacrifice to the gods and to obey the emperor will be scourged and beheaded according to the laws. The holy martyrs glorifying God betook themselves to the customary place, where they were beheaded and consummated their martyrdom confessing their Saviour.

I admire this saint’s search for the truth, and am glad that it didn’t take his whole life to try out, in turn, the Stoics, the Peripatetics, the Pythagoreans and the Platonists, until he at last found Christ. Even more inspiring is his resolve, once he knew the Truth —  the way he clung firmly to Christ who is the true Logos, the Word of God. I want to follow St. Justin’s example in drinking deeply of True Philosophy.

As a breath from Paradise,
the dew descending upon Hermon,
Christ the Power and the Peace and Wisdom of God the Father,
came upon your thirsting spirit, O Martyr Justin,
making you a Fount of Knowledge for all the faithful,
when with true valor you endured death as a Martyr,
to live forever in Christ.

Our hearts soar at Ascension.

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A HYMN

A hymn of glory let us sing;
New songs throughout the world shall ring;
By a new way none ever trod
Christ mounteth to the throne of God.

The apostles on the mountain stand, —
The mystic mount, in Holy Land;
They with the virgin mother, see
Jesus ascend in majesty.

The angels say to the eleven:
“Why stand ye gazing into heaven?
This is the Saviour, this is He!
Jesus hath triumphed gloriously!”

They said the Lord should come again,
As these beheld him rising then,
Calm soaring through the radiant sky.
Mounting its dazzling summits high.

May our affections thither tend,
And thither constantly ascend,
Where, seated on the Father’s throne,
Thee reigning in the heavens we own!

Be thou our present joy. Oh Lord!
Who wilt be ever our reward;
And, as the countless ages flee.
May all our glory be in Thee!

-Bede (c. 672/3 – 735)
Translated by Elizabeth Charles

Novgorod, 15th century.

Her love grew strong as an oak.

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Just before I was to attend a recent baby shower, I found an article by Frederica Mathewes-Green, a sort of meditation on the power of a mother’s influence. It’s  primarily about Father George Calciu, who was “one of the great confessors of Christianity in the twentieth century. Having survived the diabolic prison experiments of Communist Romania, Fr. George went on to become an apostle to spiritual seekers in Romania and, eventually, throughout the world.”

Fr. George spent a total of more than 20 years in prison. When later he was a pastor in the United States, he became Frederica’s spiritual father and confessor.

Her thoughts about his relationship to his mother seemed perfect to share at a baby shower, so I read the whole article before gifts were opened. Putting together what she knew personally of Fr. George, and what he told her about his mother, Frederica concluded:

“I think that Fr. George’s mother planted something joyous in him, when he was still a baby in the cradle. Her love and her delight in him took root, and grew as strong as an oak tree.”

I have read many stories about people who, when as adults they found themselves in deep trouble and disorder from whatever source, for whatever reason, were sustained and preserved — and sometimes brought to repentance — by simple childhood memories of what was normal and good. Sometimes it was the thought of one sweet person, or one beautiful day, long ago embedded in their soul, like an ember still glowing. From this one bit of warmth and light they found the strength to pray and the courage to do whatever was necessary.

“We do not know where our children’s lives will lead them; they may have to undergo suffering that we will be unable to prevent. They may be somewhere far beyond our ability to help them. But in the loving care we give each day, we plant something for a lifetime. Each small thing we do can be preparing them to meet challenges that we cannot yet see.” 

Read the whole (short) article: “Father George Calciu, My Spiritual Father.”

Midfeast Blessing with babies.

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Though it was a small crowd this evening for Vespers, two babies and a toddler were among our number. It is a great joy and encouragement to have a lot of babies in the parish at this time; I can think of five right off the bat who are still infants, plus several toddlers.

Of course the older children are beloved, but there is something special about the littlest ones, who look around curiously, and whom we get to know as we watch them “grow in wisdom and stature” from week to week. Our rector mentioned at the beginning of his homily last week, how wonderful it is to hear baby sounds in the church. He chose a moment when the baby noises were quiet and happy enough that he could be heard over them.

When we came into the church this evening, the infant baptismal font was set up in the middle, but inside was a big tub containing water to be blessed during the service, not for a baptism, but because it is the midpoint between Pascha and Pentecost, when this event always happens– as it always does at Theophany, when we celebrate Christ’s baptism.

The middle of the days has come,
beginning with the Savior’s Resurrection,
and sealed by the holy Pentecost.
The first and the last glisten with splendor.
We rejoice in the union of both feasts,
as we draw near to the Lord’s Ascension:
the sign of our coming glorification.

The toddler toddled, and one little girl crawled around, or was carried by her mother from icon to icon, where she reached out eagerly to touch the faces of the saints. The choir sang the Vespers service; it was a quiet and mild evening, but the sun had not gone down. The youngest baby present had been baptized only this week; she lay sleeping in her mother’s arms. After the blessing of the water, the priest walked all around the church sprinkling the icons and us. Then we drank.

One line read out from the choir was from Isaiah 55, “Ho, everyone that thirsts, Come to the water!” And we remembered the Gospel story from Sunday, about the healing of the Paralytic, and the water of the Pool of Bethesda that an angel would stir from time to time, giving it healing properties.

This prayer, based on another event in the life of Christ, expresses the tone of the evening’s service, and our joy:

Thou didst come to the Temple, O Wisdom of God,
in the middle of the feast
to teach and edify the Jews, the Scribes, and the Pharisees.
“Let him who thirsts come to Me and drink the water of life!
He will never thirst again!
Whoever believes in Me, streams of living water shall flow from him.”
How great is Thy goodness and Thy compassion!
Glory to Thee, O Christ our God!