Category Archives: quotes

Brave and faithful servants.

Over the years I’ve often written about St. Herman of Alaska and Father Alexander Schmemann, two important people in my life whom we remember on this day. This year I want to add St. Lucia of Syracuse, whose day it also is; we are blessed to have four Lucys in our parish, one of whom is my dear goddaughter.

This morning we had a glorious Divine Liturgy in honor of the saints, with our rector testifying to the power of Fr. Alexander as well, saying that if it weren’t for his influence, teaching and prayers, he would not be our priest today. We sang “Memory Eternal” for Fr. Alexander and for Leonid Ouspensky, whose legacy as an iconographer continues to enrich our parish year after year.

St. Herman and Fr. Alexander have both contributed hugely to the presence of true and living Orthodox faith in America, that Church in which I’ve found the fullness of Him Who fills all in all. Every year that we come to this date finds me more thankful.

Saint Herman of Alaska arrived in Alaska in 1794 and died there in 1837. On the occasion of his canonization in 1969 Bishop Dimitri spoke:

The Church on earth lives in a loving fellowship with the saints who have already run their race, who have fought the good fight, and have received their crowns (2 Timothy 4:7) (James 1:12). This is what the Apostle means when he says that we are compassed about or surrounded by the witness-martyrs or saints. We are assured both of their presence and their interest in us. In fact, they are concerned about the whole world and its salvation, for “there is joy in heaven over the repentance of one sinner” (Luke 15:7).

Father Schmemann was born in 1921 into a family of Russian emigres, and came to the United States in 1951 to join the faculty of St. Vladimir’s Seminary, where two of my own parish priests sat under his teaching. He reposed in the Lord in 1983. Not only has my life been enriched broadly by his contributions to the whole of Orthodoxy in America, but by my reading directly what he wrote, especially For the Life of the World, and his journals. Most recently I read his The Eucharist, which was a treasury of living truth, so vast, I haven’t known how to begin to say anything about it here.

It seems fitting that we commemorate St. Herman of Alaska on this date, when winter is making itself felt. I’ve written before (and yes, before that) about how he spurned the cold, befriended the animals, and interceded between the Aleuts and the powerful people who would exploit them. His is a good example in the Advent season, of how to keep our hearts and activities focused on the Kingdom of God in the face of distractions. 

Santa Lucia buns from a previous year.

The mother of the youngest Lucia in the parish brought darling Santa Lucia buns as she always does, and a few of us stayed to drink coffee in the parish hall. But now I am home, with hospitality on my mind and heart: I have been welcomed into the household of God and fed at His table, and will go in that strength throughout the day and on to the Feast of the Nativity of Christ.

May we all prepare ourselves for the celebration by entering into the spirit of St. Herman, who advised us:

“…let us make a vow to ourselves, that from this day, from this hour, from this very moment, we shall strive above all else to love God and to fulfill His Holy Will.”

We can distinguish between higher and lower.

T.S. Eliot, 1950

“[T]he most important question that we can ask, is whether there is any permanent standard, by which we can compare one civilisation with another, and by which we can make some guess at the improvement or decline of our own. . . . We can distinguish between higher and lower cultures; we can distinguish between advance and retrogression. We can assert with some confidence that our own period is one of decline; that the standards of culture are lower than they were fifty years ago; and that the evidences of this decline are visible in every department of human activity. I see no reason why the decay of culture should not proceed much further, and why we may not even anticipate a period, of some duration, of which it is possible to say that it will have no culture.”

-T.S. Eliot, Notes Towards the Definition of Culture, 1948

 From the Touchstone article by Ken Myers, “Ruler Over All: Notes Toward the Restitution of Christian Culture,” July/August 2023.

A refuge from perplexities.

“Materialism is a conviction based not upon evidence or logic but upon what Carl Sagan (speaking of another kind of faith) called a ‘deep-seated need to believe.’ Considered purely as a rational philosophy, it has little to recommend it; but as an emotional sedative, what Czeslaw Milosz liked to call the opiate of unbelief, it offers a refuge from so many elaborate perplexities, so many arduous spiritual exertions, so many trying intellectual and moral problems, so many exhausting expressions of hope or fear, charity or remorse. In this sense, it should be classified as one of those religions of consolation whose purpose is not to engage the mind or will with the mysteries of being but merely to provide a palliative for existential grievances and private disappointments. Popular atheism is not a philosophy but a therapy.”

―David Bentley Hart, The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss

Note: The mention of Milosz refers to this quote.

The Lord in the guise of a woman.

THE TEN DRACHMAS:
The Lord in the Guise of a Woman


“Can you believe that Christ the Saviour portrayed Himself in the guise of a woman in two of His parables? One is that of the woman who took three measures of flour and made dough. But first let us speak of the other one where the Lord tells us about the woman who had ten drachmas and lost one. These are the most mysterious of all the Saviour’s parables. As the parable of the lost drachma is short, we quote it in full.”

“Or what woman, having ten drachmas, if she lose one, does not light a candle and sweep the house and look diligently till she finds it? And after she has found it, she calls in her friends and neighbors and says, Rejoice with me, for I have found the drachma that I lost (Luke 15:8-9).”

“At first glance this parable seems so simple, or even naive, that it does not impress the reader of the Gospel. In fact, however, the mystery of the universe is revealed in this simple parable.”

Drachma of Darius King of Persia, 1st century.

The paragraphs above are the first part of an article by St. Nikolai Velimirovich, which I’m happy to bring to your attention. From his statement about the mystery of the universe, the author goes on to point out the puzzling elements in this very short story, and to explain two interpretations, both of which he says are correct. I will let you read the whole exposition at your leisure: “The Ten Drachmas” (in which he also treats the second story, the “Three Measures of Flour,” in detail). But I want to share one more excerpt, which returns to the question of why the protagonist in “The Ten Drachmas” must be a woman:

“Our Lord described Himself as a woman because women are more careful than men in looking after property, in keeping the house in order and in receiving guests. If this short parable, which consists of only two sentences, is explained in this way, whose heart will not tremble? for it contains the whole tragedy of the world, visible and invisible. It explains why the Son of God came to earth. It sheds a bright ray of light on the history of mankind and the tragedy of each individual’s existence.

“It confronts us with an urgent decision, because our life is swiftly passing — a decision as to whether we want to be the lost drachma found by Christ or not. Christ is looking for us. Are we going to hide from him, or let ourselves be found by Him before death hides us from Him, from the world and from life?”

-St. Nikolai Velimirovich

“The Ten Drachmas”