Thursday, April 2, 2026

Saints Anthony the Great and Athanasios the Great: Models of Mysticism and Action

by Archimandrite Sergius [Yazadzhiev, +2008]

Former Assistant Professor Faculty of Theology University of Sofia, Bulgaria

 

 

St. Anthony and St. Athanasios, on the occasion of whose commemorations (January 17 and 18, Old Style, January 30 and 31, New Style) I am writing these words, were not only contemporaries (both flourished in the mid-fourth century), but their work was carried out in the same geographical location. While St. Anthony performed his spiritual feats in the Egyptian desert, St. Athanasios was Patriarch of the main city of Egypt, Alexandria. Thus, it is not coincidental that the Holy Church has appointed two consecutive days on the Church Calendar for their commemoration. However, beyond the similarities with regard to the time and area in which they lived, the two Saints differ in several aspects: whereas St. Athanasios was highly educated and a man of erudition in both the field of theology and that of secular philosophy, St. Anthony was simple and illiterate—the former, a bearer of Patriarchal dignity, worked in metropolitan Alexandria, the latter, a common monk of ordinary rank, carried out his monastic life in the seclusion and stillness of the wilderness.

In spite of these perfunctory or trivial differences, what both Saints had in common was sanctity, the holy life which they led and which earned both of them the honorary title “Great." For, since the acquisition of the Holy Spirit and holiness are a manifestation of God, differences in appearance and conventional characteristics present no obstacle to spiritual greatness; indeed, according to the Apostle, “there are diversities of gifts, but the same spirit, and there are diversities of ministration, but the same Lord, and there are diversities of working, but the same God, Who worketh all things in all" (I Corinthians 12:4-6).

Thus, St. Anthony was by nature called by God to the meditative life. He was one of the very first, and this at an early age, to renounce the vanity of the world and thus became the founder of the most difficult of tasks: that of the life of a hermit. The ultimate aim and significance of this life was to cleanse his heart of the passions and vices that thrive in the world—not to withdraw complacently into himself, thereby, but in order to help his fellow man either by his counsel or through his miraculous prayer. The great hermit was soon joined by many people similarly seeking and longing for the genuine spiritual life. His hagiographer, none other than St. Athanasios himself, says, in connection with this: “How did this recluse in the wilderness become famous in Spain and Gaul, in Rome and Africa, were it not for God, Who knows His own people everywhere? ...And although such people wish to live in seclusion, God reveals them and they cannot ‘hide their light under a bushel'" (St. Matthew 5:15).

Not only many Christians, but Gentiles [pagans or non-Christians], too, thronged to see St. Anthony; and he helped everyone. Thus, the troparion so rightly eulogizing him reads that “by his prayers he upheld and supported the entire universe." St. Athanasios speaks about the help rendered to all by St. Anthony: “Was there anyone sad who went to him and did not come back joyful? Or angered and did not become a friend? ...Or anyone whose faith was failing and did not become stronger than before? ...Or anyone worried and was not pacified? Who went to him tormented by demons and did not recover?"

Now, what was the source of the love that St. Anthony had for his fellow man, so diverse in its manifestations that, like a father, he embraced the grief and suffering of so many? Here we must remember the classic words of St. Anthony: “I no longer fear God, because I love Him." What he means is that he gradually rose above and surpassed the status of a slave, who complies with God's will because he fears him: “The fear of Jehovah is the beginning of knowledge" (Proverbs 1:17). Beginning, like all strugglers and ascetics, with the fear of God, St. Anthony, through constant struggle against sin, attained the position of a son who does the will of his Heavenly Father, since he truly loves him and fears grieving him by his sins. Thus, the words of the Holy Apostle are demonstrated in fact: “But perfect love casteth out fear" (I St. John 4:18). This perfect love of God, which St. Anthony achieved by his spiritual feats, was the source of his constant love for his fellow man, who personified the image of God; a love which was expressed in manifold ways, according to the need of each.

But St. Anthony's zealous love for God has another, immediate expression: it was unleashed in a fiery fervency for the purity of God's truth, contained in the Orthodox Faith. The Saint's mind, purified of passions, clearly contemplated the truth of the Faith, and he flew into righteous anger whenever it was perverted by heresy. It is for this reason that when he was slandered with the accusation that he allegedly sympathized with the Arians, he “gave vent to his indignation and purposely went to Alexandria, where he denounced the Arian heresy and preached the Orthodox Faith to the people."

Thus, St. Anthony is primarily characterized as a typical hermit, who, saving his own soul, saved and yet saves the souls of so many of his fellow men; at the same time, he took a keen interest in the life of the public life of the Church, unmasking heresy and conforming and strengthening Christians in the truth of Orthodoxy.

***

As we stated above, at the same time this great Saint, Anthony the Great, flourished, there lived and worked his pious contemporary, St. Athanasios of Alexandria. His life was filled with anxiety and struggle—for which reason he is called a “Father of Orthodoxy"—, his life ostensibly differs from that of St. Anthony. As early as his childhood, he was under the fatherly care and protection of St. Alexander, Patriarch of Alexandria, who later Ordained him Deacon and appointed him his secretary. Together with his spiritual guide, St. Athanasios took an active part in the sessions of the First Ecumenical Synod in Nicaea (325). There he rendered a great service in his opposition to the Arian heresy and, in particular, in enunciating the doctrine of the Second Person of the Holy Trinity in the Symbol of the Orthodox Faith (the Creed).

Soon after the death of St. Alexander, Athanasios was unanimously elected and Consecrated Patriarch of Alexandria, being barely twenty-eight years of age. From that time forward there ensued his tireless and constant struggles with the Arian heretics, who recognized him as their greatest enemy. Therefore, using the power of certain Byzantine Emperors in their support, the Arians schemed and plotted against St. Athanasios, frequently even making attempts on his fife. As a result, he endured continuous persecution and exile for a full seventeen years—that is, for a third of his hierarchical service. Yet, in spite of all of these anxieties and horrors, he had the strength and fortitude of mind to utter the following remarkable words: “My heart is as filled with faith (reliance on God) in times of Grace as it is in times of persecution, because I firmly believe that if I die while suffering for Jesus Christ, fortified with His Grace, I shall be given greater mercy by Him."

During his travels and periods of exile, St. Athanasios did much good for people through his missionary endeavors and by firmly professing and elucidating the Orthodox Faith. St. Athanasios also visited the capital of our country (Bulgaria), then called “Sardica," and participated in the Council of Sardica in 343. The Saint's zeal for Orthodoxy fills every page of his numerous theological works, the greater part of which are characterized by their dogmatic and apologetic or defensive character. This is why the Church, in the troparion chanted in honor of the Saint, glorifies him as a “pillar of Orthodoxy, fortifying the Church and extolling Her Divine dogmas."

St. Athanasios was remarkable, preeminent among the Fathers in his instructions, writings, and activities. Must we thus conclude that such arduous activity obviated the possibility of his following the contemplative life? To state such is tantamount to repudiating all of his merits and the significance of his lifework. Though he did not have an opportunity to lead the fife of a hermit, since he was responsible for the administrative work of the Church, St. Athanasios was, generally speaking, a monastic ascetic, a recluse and hermit in the world. To this estrangement from the world he owed his purity of heart (St. Matthew 5:8) and his strong will, which enabled him to see clearly the truths of the Faith and to profess them steadfastly, without compromise, oblivious to all threats. St. Athanasios' homage to the hermits testifies to the fact that, during his periods of exile, he spent the majority of his time among the Egyptian recluses, where he felt relief from the tumultuous fife of the metropolis. He continually communicated with the desert hermits by letters and epistles which have been preserved down to present days. He paid singular honor to St. Anthony the Great, whom he gave one of his mantels, a mantel which was later used as a shroud when St. Anthony buried the first hermit monk, St. Paul of Thebes.

After St. Anthony's death, it was St. Athanasios who wrote his life, in which he so eloquently extolled the feats of the Founder of Monasticism.

 

Source: Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XVIII (2001), No. 2, pp. 18-21.

Metropolitan Anthony (Khrapovitsky): Errors of the Monarchy (1929)


 

I have had occasion to write that the calamities which befell the Dynasty and Russia were God’s retribution for their encroachments upon the Church, culminating in the mad proclamation of the Tsar as head of the Church in 1797. Then the Lord, as before the Universal Flood, said again within Himself: “My Spirit shall not forever be disregarded by men, for they are flesh; yet their days shall be one hundred and twenty years; and behold, I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh in which is the spirit of life under heaven. Everything that is on the earth shall lose life” (Gen. 6:3, 17). Thus, exactly 120 years after 1797, the all-destroying Bolshevik revolution came. All this was foreseen by Patriarch Nikon and by the English scholar Palmer in his six-volume work on Patriarch Nikon...

It is well known that our higher hierarchy was kept very far from the Imperial Court; only on the occasion of Christmas and Pascha did it appear at Court, and then only in the persons of two metropolitans, the matter being limited to the official greeting of the Imperial Personages. Such was the case under Emperor Nicholas I, such was the case under Emperor Alexander II, and, what is even more surprising, such was the case under Alexander III as well. I myself was first granted the honor of being presented to Sovereign Nicholas II in 1906, nine years after my consecration as bishop; and on that occasion the Sovereign said to me with a smile and mild reproach: “It seems this is the first time we have met.” Pobedonostsev, who in general firmly defended the Orthodox foundations of Russian life, for some reason did not look favorably upon the appearance of hierarchs at Court...

In one thing I must confess (or boast): I have become convinced that our Russian clergy (the clergy, not the Church) are incapable of conducting ecclesiastical affairs without support from the Throne. This is something I did not think before the beginning of the revolution, but I imagined that, once freed from the Tsar’s guardianship, the Church, through her spiritual pastors, would be able to uphold the authority of the holy faith. Since 1917 I have seen that this is not so. Two hundred years of bondage of the hierarchy and clergy under the state so diminished their will and their conviction that they came to need the support of the state, lest the Church be turned into a small sect of voluntary martyrs amid an enormous mass of traitors, deceivers, lovers of money, flatterers, and slanderers. Of course, this “sect” would still have remained the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, but three-quarters of the people would have fallen away from her.

Source: Жизнеописание Блаженнейшего Антония, Митрополита Киевского и Галицкого [The Life of His Beatitude Anthony, Metropolitan of Kiev and Galicia], Vol. IX. pp. 228–230.

Online: 

https://apologet.spb.ru/ru/%D1%86%D0%B5%D1%80%D0%BA%D0%BE%D0%B2%D0%BD%D0%B0%D1%8F-%D0%B6%D0%B8%D0%B7%D0%BD%D1%8C/67-%D0%B0%D0%BA%D1%82%D1%83%D0%B0%D0%BB%D1%8C%D0%BD%D1%8B%D0%B5-%D1%82%D0%B5%D0%BC%D1%8B/1436-mitropolit-antonij-khrapovitskij-oshibki-monarkhii-mitropolit-antonij-khrapovitskij.html



St. John Maximovitch: The Nineteenth Anniversary of the Repose of His Beatitude, Metropolitan Anthony of Kiev

Eulogy delivered at Lesna Convent, July 28/August 10, 1955. [1]

 

 

This evening, nineteen years ago, Metropolitan Anthony reposed. A great hierarch not only of our century: in the life of the Church few have been the hierarchs as gifted as he, or who have given so much to the Church. His Holiness Varnava, Patriarch of Serbia, while serving in the Russian Church of the Holy Trinity, in Belgrade, said that Metropolitan Anthony was a hierarch like unto the great hierarchs of antiquity. [2]

In theological circles in Serbia, he was called the Athanasius of our time.

He spoke, having been made wise by the Holy Spirit.

His teaching on the Trinity and on the Church, which revealed Divine Truth, sounded like something novel. But this was not some new, hitherto unknown, teaching, but rather those Truths, according to which the Church lives, expressed anew, which, however, had been forgotten by many. On account of the calamities in the historical life of the Orthodox peoples, theological scholarship declined in those lands, and upon the re-establishment of scholarship and schools, they were formed according to the patterns of other confessions, and were under their influence.

His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony regenerated Orthodox Theology.

He was called Athanasius the Great. Saint Athanasius the Great is known as “The Father of Orthodoxy,” not, of course, in the sense that Orthodoxy began with him, but because he lucidly expressed Orthodox doctrine at a time when the Truth was obscured by the cunning sophistries of the human mind. Like unto him, there appeared in our day the hierarch Anthony, and in his [i.e., Saint Athanasius’] power [3] he expounded that same Truth.

Metropolitan Anthony possessed the all-encompassing heart of Saint Basil the Great. A hierarch offers up prayers for the entire Orthodox Church, and each part of Her is dear to him. Metropolitan Anthony, following the bidding of Saint Basil the Great, knew the life of each Local Church. That is why he took so very much to heart the life of each of them, why he so loved and understood them. He was an Ecumenical Hierarch in the full sense of the word.

He was the teacher and preacher of love, and many, through him, came to an awareness of love, and those who formerly had been wandering in a mist discovered themselves through faith and love.

He inaugurated a new life for the Russian schools, having indicated the educational and creative power of love, and he called upon others to abandon the dry and formal attitude toward children.

Young people, one might say, flocked to him, and when others, seeing this, inquired of His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony how, by what pedagogical method, he achieved this, he would reply that he had no method whatsoever, but in his contacts with the youth, he sought to be found in the grace of God, which enlivens the heart and draws people together.

He was a mentor of the young people, who, even upon reaching maturity, remained under his guidance. With time he became not only “the honored teacher of a multitude of monastics”, [4] but also a pastor of pastors and a hierarch of hierarchs, so many of them being from among his disciples.

Always, in all the circumstances of life, he was a persistent confessor of the Truth, which he lived, bore about, and guarded in his heart.

In exile, living for years as the guest of the Patriarch of Serbia, he preserved his inherent majestic humility and his faith and devotion to the Church. As before, he was a teacher of the Church. On one occasion His Holiness Patriarch Varnava, while present at some solemn assembly, said that, after the First World War, when the wave of modernism rushed upon the Local Churches and submerged many, in Serbia that wave broke against the lofty promontory of Metropolitan Anthony, who at that time saved the Serbian Church.

In our evil times many are submitting themselves to various influences and demands of forces alien to the Church, or even openly hostile to Her. But all those who have not submitted, who have preserved their freedom, all of them had turned to Metropolitan Anthony during his lifetime and are now following the paths indicated by him.

Always being straightforward — even from his early childhood, he looked upon all events and evaluated them from a position firmly within the Church, having an integral Orthodox world-view. And he stated that the healing of Russian society lies precisely in the adopting of an Orthodox understanding of life.

His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony clearly perceived the anti-Church currents in Russian life, and when he sensed that they might shake the foundations of Holy Rus, and the Tsarist authority which was safeguarding them, then he — twelve years before the collapse of Russia — in the Cathedral of Saint Isaac, in St. Petersburg, foretold what threatened Russia. Subsequent events fully justified his prophetic words. [5]

He never curried favor with anyone; being aware of his inexorable straightforwardness, they sometimes purposely did not invite him to sessions of the Synod. [6]

Himself being a Great Russian, he was likewise bound by ties of kinship to Little Russia, [7] and that helped him to understand and love the latter.

But, in general, he understood all the Orthodox peoples, together with their distinct forms of piety: Great Russians, Little Russians, Greeks, Serbs, and so forth — all were dear to him.

One of the concepts most precious to him was that of the unity of the Church. The one and united Church, the Body of Christ, the union in the faith and Holy Communion of many people and nations; a unity in the likeness of the Holy Trinity — this Divine Truth was the wellspring of his spiritual exultation and preaching. The life of each Church was dear to him.

When during the First World War, after severe trials, our military might began to wax strong, and the possibility of capturing Constantinople arose, the matter of how to arrange Church life there was discussed in the Synod. Metropolitan Anthony firmly pointed out that in deciding this issue it must be remembered that the Patriarch of Constantinople is the first among the hierarchs of the Orthodox Church, and by no means could any disparagement of him be permitted. At the same time, it should also be borne in mind that the annexation of Constantinople to Russia would deprive the Greeks of the hope that the latter should once again become their capital, and the Greeks would have taken that quite painfully.

At that time, it was expected that the annexation of Constantinople would open to Russia an outlet to the sea. Metropolitan Anthony said that such a plan, entailing, as it did, the humiliating of the Greeks, also contradicted the inclination of the Russian common people. The latter (i.e., the Russian people) aspire not to Constantinople, but to Jerusalem, and an outlet to the sea in that direction would be more acceptable to the people. Constantinople, however, — once the Cross has been raised on Hagia Sophia — should be handed over to the Greeks.

Jerusalem, the Holy Land, where the Lord Jesus Christ accomplished His Divine podvig of love, where the saving life in Christ began, and where, according to the prophecy of the Prophet Ezekiel, the fate of the world will be decided — thither aspires the heart of the Russian Orthodox man.

That heart was dear to His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony.

He well knew that as long as faith and a striving toward God was alive in that heart, as long as there was a consciousness that this is the one thing needful8 — then all else would be added unto it.

The Orthodox Autocratic Tsar was dear to Metropolitan Anthony precisely because the Tsar was the embodiment of the Russian people’s confession of that consciousness and their readiness to submit the life of the state to the righteousness of God: therefore, do the people submit themselves to the Tsar, because he submits to God. Vladyka Anthony loved to recall the Tsar’s prostration before God and the Church which he makes during the coronation, while the entire Church, all its members, stand. And then, in response to his submission to Christ, all in the Church make a full prostration to him.

His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony saw in the compulsory abdication of the Tsar the abdication of Russia from such a consciousness, a rejection of her entire historical life.

Metropolitan Anthony remained true to historical Russia. Firm as granite, he remarked that no one could have forced him to cease commemorating the Tsar, if it had not been for the Tsar’s own Manifesto.

Metropolitan Anthony was not a martyr; however, he was always prepared to become a martyr. But a confessor he can undoubtedly be reckoned.

We do not know how the Lord has crowned His confessor. But for us he is the icon of meekness, a teacher of the faith, an image of one rightly dividing the word of truth. [9]

Innumerable is the multitude of people whom he raised up, instructed and strengthened, and all of them with gratitude pray for him.

Metropolitan Anthony himself would recall how Saint Tikhon of Zadonsk once beheld in a vision that in order to be saved he must ascend an exceedingly lofty ladder, and that whenever he began to grow weak, there appeared a multitude of people whom he had earlier aided spiritually, and they helped him to ascend. In this very vision the Hierarch perceived the lesson that his duty was not to abandon his pastoral service. In this vision Metropolitan Anthony more than once perceived instruction for himself too.

At first, after the Revolution, Metropolitan Anthony wished to retire to Valaam, but circumstances demanded his return to Kharkov. And then later there always arose various obstacles to his leaving his pastoral service. Finally, already in Serbia, he received authorization to settle on Mount Athos, and he decided to depart. The Russian exiles begged him to remain. He did not consent. Then the wonder-working icon of the Mother of God of the Sign was brought into his quarters as an expression of their hope and certainty that the Mother of God herself would not allow him to depart. A few days later news was received that precisely on that very day the given authorization had been revoked.

Metropolitan Anthony remained at the head of the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad, and thus began the last period of his life and of his heavy moral trials.

A number of his disciples and adherents took other paths.

It grieved him, but his deeply loving heart did not judge them. He prayed for them and called upon others to do the same.

And now, recalling his life, his great podvig, we can in truth state that those words, chanted by the Church to the Holy Apostle John the Theologian, are likewise applicable to him: “he, being filled with love, also became filled with theology.” [10]

 

NOTES

1. Pravoslavnaya Rus, No. 19, 1955, pp. 3–4. Translation by Holy Transfiguration Monastery, Boston. The paragraph divisions given here are those of the Russian text; perhaps they reflect Saint John Maximovich’s manner of delivery.

2. See also the most edifying account: “Patriarch Varnava and Metropolitan Anthony – Remembrances of a Christian Friendship”, Orthodox Life, No. 1, 1972, pp. 15–23.

3. Cf. Luke 1: 17.

4. A paraphrase of the Vespers Doxasticon for a monastic saint: “We the multitude of monastics honor thee our teacher…” This text would, of course, have been very familiar to those who had gathered at the Lesna Convent to hear Saint John speak.

5. Sermon delivered on the Sunday of the Last Judgment, February 20, 1905: “Concerning the Dread Judgment and Current Events” (Complete Collected Works, Vol. 1, p. 135.).

6. That is, the Holy Synod of pre-Revolutionary Russia.

7. I.e., Russia Minor, Ukraine.

8. Luke 10: 42.

9 .2 Tim 2: 15.

10. Vespers Doxasticon of May 8.

Wednesday, April 1, 2026

Critical Thoughts on a Recent Book About the Church Calendar

by Hieromonk [Archimandrite] Patapios and Archbishop [Metropolitan] Chrysostomos of Etna

 

 

In a recently published book entitled, Netntelegerea Indreptarii Calendarului [The Misunderstanding of the Calendar Emendations], [1] Nicolae Popescu, a graduate of the Orthodox Faculty of Theology at the Ovidius University in Constanta, Romania, ardently defends what he calls the “correction” of the Julian Calendar by the Orthodox Church of Romania, when, in 1924, that body—and several other local Orthodox Churches—adopted the Papal, or so-called “New” or “Gregorian” Calendar, for the calculation of the cycle of the Church’s liturgical Feasts. (The Romanian State had already adopted the Gregorian Calendar for secular use on April 1, 1919.) Misunderstanding the calendar issue himself, the author wrongly equates the Julian Calendar with the Church Calendar, which, employing the Julian Calendar in its calculations, achieves a clever and complex arrangement of the ecclesiastical festal year around various solar and lunar events and the centrality of the Feast of Pascha. It was the scrapping of this Church Calendar—universally used in the Orthodox Church since the First Ecumenical Synod of Nicaea (325) and still used by the vast majority of Orthodox Christians worldwide—, and not a correction of the Julian Calendar, that was at the heart of the 1924 calendar reforms. It was this breach with Church tradition that also accounted for the widespread reactions against the innovation by many Orthodox clergy and believers, the “Anticalendarigtii” (or “Anti-Calendarists,” a rather vacuous epithet) and "Slilislii” (or “Stylists,” a pejorative term derived from references to Julian Calendar dates as “Old Style” dates), as the author refers to Orthodox believers who refused to adopt the Papal Calendar and who are more commonly known as “Old Calendarists.” Though an alleged defense of the calendar reform, Mr. Popescu’s book is essentially an attack against what he sees as the obstinate refusal of the Old Calendarists to accept the calendar change, ending with a list of somewhat gratuitous, crudely-crafted, ill-advised and somewhat intemperate measures that he believes ought to be taken by the “official” State Church of Romania to restore the erring Old Calendarists to the bosom of the Romanian Patriarchate.

We have no desire to call into question the author’s sincerity or his motives for writing such a book. He obviously believes very strongly that the Old Calendarists have misunderstood the reasons which led the Romanian Church to relinquish the Julian Calendar and to adopt the Gregorian (or Papal) Calendar for the Heortologion, that is, the cycle of fixed ecclesiastical Feasts, albeit retaining the formula set forth at the First Synod for calculating the date of Pascha. However, his treatment of the calendar question is marred by numerous distortions, omissions, and other inaccuracies, some of which we will endeavor to address within the confines of this brief article.

Needless to say, as Old Calendarists, we are not at all sympathetic to the ideas set forth in the present book or to its sometimes polemical approach. Nevertheless, like other Old Calendarists who espouse a moderate ecclesiology, we are not opposed in principle to an open, eirenic, and charitable debate of the issues surrounding the Church Calendar. After all, as Metropolitan Cyprian of Oropos and Fill, Chief Hierarch of the moderate Old Calendarist resisters in the Orthodox Church of Greece, points out, “the Orthodox Church today, by reason of ecumenism and the calendar innovation, is divided and in need of being united.” [2] And the very purpose of our resistance, His Eminence suggests, is to convoke a general unifying Synod, in order to enable those in error to return to right belief. When we fail to keep the prospect of such a general Synod uppermost in our minds, he notes, “quietism and an unhealthy ecclesiological introversion and self-sufficiency prevail, with all of their tragic and painful consequences on the theological, pastoral, and spiritual levels.” [3] If we are to avoid becoming introverted, we must not only endeavor to present an articulate defense of our stand against ecumenism and the calendar innovation, but must also be willing to listen to our opponents and to respond in a balanced and fair-minded way to their criticisms of us. By the same token, however, we may reasonably expect New Calendarists to display a similar balance and fairness when writing about us. Unfortunately, Mr. Popescu’s book is neither balanced nor fair, and it thus does nothing to promote a better understanding among his fellow New Calendarists of a movement which, since its inception in the 1920s, has been the object of so much vitriol, violence, and repression on the part of the powers that be, both temporal and ecclesiastical.

In the first part of the first chapter of his book, Mr. Popescu offers a reasonably competent summary of the origins of the Julian Calendar and notes its deficiencies, from an astronomical point of view. Of course, the Julian calendar, like any other calendar (and especially the Gregorian Calendar), is not absolutely perfect; but it is not as significantly flawed as proponents of the Gregorian Calendar would have us believe. In support of this point, we might adduce the high regard which the renowned German mathematician Carl Friedrich Gauss had for the Julian Calendar. Gauss, who derived the mathematical formula for the calculation of the Orthodox Paschalion, was fascinated by the antiquity and the sophistication of the Julian Calendar, which he considered to possess far greater scientific worth than the Gregorian Calendar. [4] Likewise, the eminent Russian astronomer E.A. Predtechensky has opined that, whereas the Church Calendar (which, again, rests on the Julian Calendar) “was so executed, that till now it remains unsurpassed,” the Gregorian Calendar is, by comparison, “ponderous and clumsy to such a degree, that it reminds one of a cheap print alongside an artistic depiction of the same subject.” [5]

In the second part of this chapter, furthermore, Mr. Popescu’s limitations as a historian become quite evident. According to Vasile Gheorghiu, whose book on the calculation of Pascha Mr. Popescu cites, Patriarch Jeremiah II of Constantinople wrote a letter to Pope Gregory XIII, in August of 1583, maintaining that it was impossible for the Eastern Churches to accept the Pope’s calendar reform, which had been introduced without consulting the Eastern Churches, since it might provoke misunderstanding among the Orthodox Faithful. This is an astonishing over-simplification. In fact, the major concern for the Patriarch and the Eastern Orthodox Church was the Pope’s claim that the imposition of his New Calendar was a sign of his power over time and eternity. And, indeed, this claim was also rejected by Protestants, and even the American colonies— originally settled by Protestant dissenters—did not adopt the Gregorian Calendar until the mid-eighteenth century, originally considering it an impossible acknowledgement of Papal authority. It is thus a matter of further amazement that Mr. Popescu misses Patriarch Jeremiah’s mild chastisement of the Pope’s claim to authority over time and eternity in his proposal that, to determine whether the calendar was “pleasing to God,” it be submitted to all of the Patriarchs and be implemented only “with the mutual consent of all.” [6] This appeal to Patriarchal conciliarity was not, as Popescu tries to argue, an endorsement of the reform by the Patriarch; it was, rather, a challenge to Papal prerogatives.

More to the point, Mr. Popescu performs this act of historical legerdemain in the very face of the well-known condemnations of the Gregorian Calendar that were issued when, ultimately, Patriarch Jeremiah submitted the question of calendar reform to the Eastern Patriarchs. Mr. Popescu could hardly be unaware of the very forceful language of the anathemas contained in the Sigillion signed by Patriarch Jeremiah, Patriarch Sylvester of Alexandria, and a representative of Patriarch Sophronios IV of Jerusalem at a Synod held in November of 1583 to discuss the Pope’s request that the Orthodox Church adopt his calendar. The following excerpt from the Sigillion in question makes it very clear just how antipathetic the three Patriarchs were towards the Gregorian Calendar and any notion of Papal primacy:

Again the Church of Old Rome, swayed by the proud vainglory of her astronomers, recklessly changed the most honorable decree concerning Holy Pascha, established by the 318 Holy Fathers at the First (Ecumenical Synod of Nicaea and held in great esteem by all Christians throughout the world as something inviolable… If anyone does not follow the traditions and the customs of the Church as ordained by the Seven Ecumenical Synods regarding Holy Pascha, but rather desires to follow the Gregorian Paschalion and Papist Calendar, like the atheist astronomers, contravening all of the decisions of the Holy Synods and trying to weaken and change them, let him be anathema, banished from the Church of Christ and from the assembly of Christians. You, the Orthodox and right- believing Christians, remain steadfast in what you have learned, in that into which you were bom and educated. And when it becomes necessary, shed your very blood to preserve the Faith and confession of your Fathers. Guard and protect yourselves from reformers, so that our Lord Jesus Christ might help you, and may the prayers of our Faith be with you all. Amen. [7]

Nowhere in Mr. Popescu’s discussion, in fact, is there so much as a hint of this and other clear conciliar rejections—and with adamantine resolve—of the Papal calendar. Instead, he merely notes, rather lamely, that “the Patriarch of Constantinople affirmed that the Eastern Church would abide for the time being by the rules for calculating Pascha that had been in use up until then.” [8] He makes absolutely no mention, moreover, of the two Synods convened by Patriarch Jeremiah in 1587 and 1593 in order to reaffirm this earlier decisive rejection of the Gregorian Calendar by the Orthodox Church. In 1587, for example, “the correction of the calendar was condemned as being perilous and unnecessary,” [9] while in 1593, no fewer than four Patriarchs—Jeremiah of Constantinople, Joachim VI of Antioch, Sophronios of Jerusalem, and Meletios (Pegas) I of Alexandria—condemned the reformed calendar, declaring that anyone found violating the prescriptions of the traditional Orthodox Paschalion be “excommunicated and rejected from the Church of Christ.” [10] It is, once again, hard to believe that Mr. Popescu, in his study of the calendar reform, was unaware of these very staunch repudiations of the Papal calendar by no less than three pan-Orthodox Synods. Thus, his insistence that the Orthodox Church “was aware of the need to correct the calendar,” [11] rings quite untrue. So, too, does his baseless claim that the Church was unable to implement this change because, inter alia, it was impossible to convene a pan-Orthodox Synod under the Turkish Yoke!

Mr. Popescu goes on naively to enlist, among supposedly pious and serious Orthodox supporters of the reform of the Church Calendar, such figures as Nicephoros Gregoras, an unrelenting opponent of St. Gregory Palamas, who was kept under house arrest in a monastery, for several years, after refusing to accept the vindication of St. Gregory by the pro-Palamite Synod of 1351; [12] George Gemistos Plethon, die eccentric Byzantine humanist who advocated a return to pagan Greek polytheism; and, incredibly and astoundingly enough (if we have understood Mr. Popescu aright), St. Nicodemos the Hagiorite. One is left bewildered enough at his placement of St. Nicodemos in such ignominious company; but does he actually believe that St. Nicodemos favored the correction of the calendar? Did he fail to read the very sources which he cites? It is true, as Mr. Popescu asserts, that in the Pedalion (the Rudder, or collection of Church Canons) St. Nicodemos “noted that the equinox of the Julian Calendar was now lagging behind the celestial calendar by twelve days.” [13] However, he makes this observation in the following context:

Let [the Latins] know that the Ecumenical Synods held after the First Synod, and the rest of the Fathers, wise as they were, could see, of  course, that the equinox had deviated a great deal [from where it was previously]; nevertheless, they did not wish to change its position from March 21, where the First Synod found it, because they preferred the agreement and union of the Church to accuracy in the matter of the equinox, which causes no confusion in fixing the date of our Pascha, nor any harm to piety. [14]

In the light of this citation in context, it is wholly disingenuous for Mr. Popescu to insinuate that St. Nicodemos believed that it was necessary to alter the Church Calendar. In like manner, he fails to note that all of the sources to whom he attributes a desire for calendar reform (e.g., the monk Isaacios and the Canonist Matthew Blastaris) were simply ignored by the Church. They were outside the ecclesiastical consensus and did not express the conscience of the Church.

Continuing his “historical” case for Orthodox sympathy for calendar reform, the author informs us that, during the years 1863-1864, the Romanian Prince Alexandra Cuza attempted to revise the Church Calendar. This is quite true, but to be more specific and accurate, the Prince

convoked a Church Synod, at which he recommended that the Romanian Orthodox Church change from the Julian Calendar to the Gregorian Calendar. Also present at this Synod was St. Calinic of Cernica (1787- 1868), one of the most dauntless stragglers for the triumph of the truth and for the preservation of the True Faith. He was categorically opposed to the calendar innovation and exclaimed as he was leaving the hall in which the Synod was meeting: ‘I will not be reckoned with transgressors!’ Thus, the Prince did not succeed in implementing this recommendation, which had been imposed on him by Freemasons. [15]

This is not a ringing endorsement for the author’s vision of a Church pining for a reform of its Church Calendar. Equally questionable is the force of his claim that, after 1900, many Orthodox Hierarchs and academics demanded that the Church Calendar be corrected—without telling us, incidentally, who these Hierarchs and academics were. The facts, it seems, make for quite a different scenario. For example, in 1902, the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Constantinople rejected a memorandum from the Greek mathematician, Epaminondas Polydoris, concerning calendar revision; in 1903, the Jerusalem Patriarchate maintained that any attempt to alter the Church Calendar would be to the detriment of Orthodoxy; and, in the same year, the Romanian Patriarchate declared that it was impossible to change the calendar without violating the Canons of the Church. [16]

In the first paragraph of the second chapter of his book, Mr. Popescu refers to what he calls the “sinod interortodox” (“inter-Orthodox Synod”) convened in Constantinople in 1923, which approved the “correction” of the Julian Calendar. Two pages later, with greater accuracy, he calls this meeting a “congres” (“congress”), and elsewhere he terms it a “conferima” or “consfatuire” (“conference”). To his credit, he also admits that the 1923 congress did not have the authority of an Ecumenical Synod, or even a pan-Orthodox Council, and that it was not representative of all the autocephalous Orthodox Churches. [17] The second chapter is in general, therefore, reasonably objective and much less marred by snide polemics against the Old Calendarists.

However, we must on two counts take Mr. Popescu to task for his comments in this chapter. First, like many other apologists for the New Calendar, he argues that the Romanian Patriarchate did not adopt the Gregorian Calendar—“as some enemies of the corrected calendar simplistically say” [18]—but rather “recommended all of the Orthodox Churches to correct the Old Calendar by a new method, and one much better than that used for the Gregorian reform.” [19] This specious argument is clearly refuted by Hieromonk Cassian in his important treatise, A Scientific Examination of the Orthodox Church Calendar. Patriarch Meletios (Metaxakis) sought to allay the qualms expressed by Patriarch Damianos of Jerusalem, who immediately perceived that the so-called “Revised Julian Calendar” was nothing other than the Gregorian Calendar in disguise, with arguments that show his absolute ignorance of matters astronomical. As Father Cassian justly observes, Patriarch Meletios deliberately omitted to mention that “the ‘New [that is, “Revised”] Julian’ Calendar fully coincides with the Gregorian Calendar until 2800, when, admittedly, a difference of one day will occur in leap years.” However, this temporary difference “will disappear in 2900, when, once again, the two calendars will fully coincide.” [20] In other words, those who introduced the New Calendar were engaging in a form of astronomical legerdemain in claiming that they had simply “corrected” the Julian Calendar. They had, in fact, created a veritable mongrel by combining the Orthodox Paschalion with the Gregorian reckoning for the festal calendar.

Secondly, in his brief reference to the meeting of inter-Orthodox representatives commissioned to prepare the agenda for a new Ecumenical Synod—held in June of 1930 at the Vatopedi Monastery on Mount Athos—, Mr. Popescu leaves the impression that this meeting was sympathetic to the calendar reform. This is not so. St. Nikolai (Velimirovic) of Ohrid, for one, warned that the Serbian Orthodox Church would boycott the meeting “unless it was assured that the inter-Orthodox commission would have nothing in common with the ‘Pan-Orthodox’ Congress at Constantinople, which adopted resolutions concerning the calendar change. ‘If this condition is not met, the Serbs will condemn the Ecumenical Patriarchate.’” [21] Moreover, the representatives of the Polish and Serbian Churches attending this meeting refrained from worshipping with delegates from those Churches which had adopted the New Calendar, on grounds that the latter were essentially schismatics. From this we can see that it was not only the Old Calendarist resisters, but also prominent figures in what would nowadays be called the “official” Orthodox Churches, who objected to the calendar change well into the past century.

In the third chapter of his book, Mr. Popescu abandons any objectivity that might have survived his historical errors and misrepresentations; unfortunately, in this chapter he gives way to blatant revisionism. After extolling the Orthodox Church as a powerful source of spiritual support for the Romanian nation and a treasury of culture and education for the people, Mr. Popescu assures us that the pre-Communist Romanian State guaranteed freedom of religion and legal protection to all faiths, as long as their exercise thereof did not infringe on public order, good morals, or the laws of the land. Thus, he argues a priori that the Romanian Old Calendarists were not, when their movement first began to gain momentum, persecuted, except, of course, to the extent that they violated social order, behaved immorally, or become transgressors of the secular legal system. (It should be noted that the author conducted not an iota of original research for this section, but based his remarks on a book—by one Constantin Vulpescu, a public prosecutor commenting on the first few years of the Old Calendarist resistance—entitled The Error of the Old Calendarists [22]) In an array of grandiloquent outbursts about the alleged maleactions of the Old Calendarists, Mr. Popescu attributes their persecution wholly to unscrupulous agitators who, using freedom of conscience as a pretext, took advantage of weak laws meant to protect their religious freedom to stir up trouble, thereby making of the Patriarchate a laughingstock.

In the frenzied abuse of their rights as Romanian citizens, we are led to believe, the Old Calendarists attacked the “official” Romanian Church with impunity. They published spiritually poisonous attacks, hinging mud and filth at the State Church. Covering themselves under the protection of secular law, they circulated their tracts and books freely. And indeed, they had the audacity to claim that they were Orthodox Christians. The “Stylist” agitators, we read, erected churches without official authorization and for no reasonable purpose; and when these illegal churches were closed, they would commit outrages and insult and rebel against the authorities. People who were previously indifferent to religion were transformed into fanatics through the malign influence of the Old Calendarists, who, according to Mr. Popescu, were not only troublemakers and mudslingers, but also—as incredible as his language may seem to a reasonable person—scoundrels, idiots, mentally ill, crazy, and individuals devoid of faith and culture. It is difficult to believe that anyone with a modicum of civility would resort to such a farrago of accusations or so disingenuously whitewash the horrendous persecution of the Romanian Old Calendarists, which has gone on in various forms for more than seven decades. [23] In response, we will simply cite but two of hundreds of such examples of the persecution unleashed against the Romanian Old Calendarists in the 1930s, during the very period which Mr. Vulpescu, whose work Popescu uses as his sole source, was purportedly describing:

[First, in 1936,] ... the commune of Radascni, Suceava County, was surrounded by several battalions of gendarmes brought all the way from Cernauti, Cernauti County. These gendarmes blocked all of the access roads to the village and gathered most of its inhabitants into the City Hall. Those found to be on the New Calendar were ordered to go home. The Old Calendarist Faithful were advised to change to the New Calendar if they wanted to return home. When they refused to comply, the police took all of the men to the local school, where they were stripped and told to lie on the floor. They were savagely clubbed, and some of them suffered for the rest of their lives from the wounds they received. The women and the youngsters, who remained in the City Hall and stood fast in their confession of the True Faith, were forced to ran between two rows of gendarmes who beat them ferociously with clubs. These violent actions had a twofold purpose. The authorities attempted, on the one hand, to force the clergy and Faithful to switch to the New Calendar out of fear, and, on the other hand, to limit their resistance by the destruction of their Churches. For example, the church of Radaseni was dismantled and moved to another locality, where it was used as a New Calendar church. [24]

[Secondly, in Brusturi, in 1935,] ... [i]n order to prevent its pillage or burning, the [Old Calendar] Church was guarded at night by Petre V. Ignat, then thirty years of age. Likewise, all of the Faithful who lived in the village were ready to intervene if the need arose. The New Calendarist Priest was not only dissatisfied with this status quo, but even wanted to destroy the Church by any means, regardless of what it would take. He organized, with the help of the Gendarmerie and the principals of the local schools, Sturza from Brusturi and Dumitrescu from Grosi, a gang that, dressed as gendarmes, jumped over the fence during the night and beat Petre Ignat, who was guarding the Church. He was saved by the intervention of another believer who saw the attack and sounded the alarm bell. When the people gathered, one of the gang fired several pistol shots to enable all of the assailants to withdraw. A few days later, the commune was taken by surprise and surrounded by an enormous number of gendarmes armed with rifles and machine guns, and all of the access roads in and out of the area were blocked. At nine o’clock in the morning, the gendarmes entered the locality and forced the inhabitants to go to their post, where they were kept under close guard. In addition, Father Vasile Lupescu, the New Calendarist Priest, was at the entrance gate. The gendarmes confiscated Church books from the pockets of the Faithful and other items found on their persons after a body search. The Faithful were warned to renounce their beliefs, but they stood their ground. The gendarmes then took ten people at a time (men or women) into a room, forced them lie face down, and savagely beat them with cudgels so severely that blood gushed through their clothing. ...The same question was repeated over and over again: ‘Are you still keeping the Old Calendar?’ Among those brutally beaten were the parents of Archimandrite Timotei of the Slatioara Monastery. [25]

In the second part of the third chapter of his book, Mr. Popescu enumerates what he perceives to be violations of Church Canons by the Old Calendarists, who have, oddly enough, always prided themselves—and quite rightly so—on their strict adherence to these same Canons. We will not attempt to refute all of these allegations of canonical infractions, for the simple reason that not one of them has any relevance to the situation faced by the Old Calendarists. However, in the interest of truth and honesty, we must deal with five of these allegations. In the first place, Mr.  Popescu asserts, without any evidence whatsoever, that the Old Calendarist clergy serve the Divine Liturgy using Antimensia (a cloth, into which sacred Relics have been sewn, upon which the Divine Liturgy is celebrated) not given to them with the blessing of the local Bishop, and that in other cases they even use stolen Antimensia. This, in his opinion, constitutes a violation of the Seventy-Third Apostolic Canon. In actuality, this Canon states that no one should ever appropriate for his own use any gold or silver vessel, or any cloth, that has been blessed for Church usage. According to St. Nicodemos the Hagiorite and other canonical commentators, this Canon is meant to prohibit the promiscuous (that is, profane) use of sacred things. He illustrates this by citing the example of King Baltasar, who used the sacred vessels seized by his father, Nabuchodonosor, from the Temple of Jerusalem for a banquet. [26] Quite obviously, even if the Old Calendarist Priests had stolen Antimensia from New Calendar Churches—for which there is not a single shred of evidence—they would not have been using them, like Baltasar, for profane purposes.

Secondly, Mr. Popescu cites numerous Canons pertaining to clergy who, having shown contempt for their Bishops and thus having excommunicated themselves from the Church, proceed nonetheless to form their own congregations and set up their own altars, in defiance of the local Bishop. [27] None of these Canons has any application at all to those traditionalist clergy who opposed the uncanonical imposition of the New Calendar. All of these clergymen were deposed in a spirit of revenge for objecting to an innovation which introduced discord and division into the body of the Church. The Canons that Mr. Popescu cites are directed against Priests who separate themselves from communion with their Bishops for purely personal reasons or for purposes of self-aggrandizement. More to the point, we might note that the Canons enjoining obedience to one’s Bishop always presuppose that the Bishop in question is right-believing. A Bishop who openly preaches heresy or introduces innovations such as the New Calendar, which provoke confusion and division among the Faithful, is no longer a properly-functioning Orthodox Hierarch and is, therefore, not entitled to demand obedience from the members of his flock.

Thirdly, Mr. Popescu asserts that Old Calendarists do not have Priests to celebrate services for them. He evidently means by this curious, if provocative and rather presumptuous, remark that, since they are, in his eyes, schismatics, their clergy are mere laymen masquerading as Priests. He then goes on to claim that they permit non-Ordained monks and laymen to perform Baptisms and funerals and to hear confessions. This is simple poppycock and an artless retreat into cheap ridicule and slander. Using the Church Canons to adorn his loutish charges, Mr. Popescu adduces, of all things, the Fifteenth Canon of the First-Second Synod (861) to support his view. There is, as any canonical scholar knows, no reference anywhere in the text of this Canon to illicit lay celebrations of Divine services. In fact, this Canon is the very locus classicus of lawful resistance to theological error and the kind of resistance undertaken by the Old Calendarists; indeed, it asserts that those who wall themselves off from a Bishop who teaches false doctrine “have not sundered the unity of the Church through schism, but, on the contrary, have been sedulous to rescue the Church from schisms and divisions.” [28]

Fourthly, Mr. Popescu berates the Old Calendarists for their belief that the Fathers of the First Ecumenical Synod devised a Paschalion in perpetuity—which, of course, they did—and goes on to argue, on the assumption that the proceedings of the Synod have been completely lost, that there is no evidence that the First Synod issued any regulation concerning the date of Pascha. This is an inane position, given the fact that the Orthodox Church has, in fact, accepted the pronouncements of this Synod in calculating the date of Pascha to this day—including, of course, the New Calendarists, who, even in reforming their Church’s Festal Calendar, have not abandoned Her traditional Paschalion. Mr. Popescu is also evidently unaware—a curious lapse for a student of theology—that proceedings of the Synod of Nicaea are, in fact, preserved in the Ecclesiastical History of Gelasios of Cyzicus. [29]

Fifthly and finally, Mr. Popescu claims that the chief founder and inspirer of the Old Calendar Church of Romania, Hieromonk (later Metropolitan) Glicherie and his co-ascetic, Hierodeacon David, along with ten other monks, were “expelled from monasticism” [30] by the Metropolis of Moldavia in April of 1931, and that, by virtue of this “deposition.” were deprived of the canonical right to celebrate the Divine Liturgy or any other Church services. This is absurd, since a monk cannot be “deposed” from the monastic state, though this fact is little understood by modernist Churchmen. Mr. Popescu also fails to explain what bearing this putative expulsion from monasticism has on someone’s right to exercise his Priestly faculties. Moreover, as St. Maximos the Confessor explains in his commentary on the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy of St. Dionysios the Areopagite, “If a Hierarch excommunicates anyone contrary to God’s purpose, Divine judgment does not come upon that person; for the Hierarch ought to apply these measures in accordance with Divine judgment and not in accordance with his own will.” [31] In other words, depositions issued in a spirit of malice and pettiness, for political reasons, or for the purpose of revenge and merely making some point, have no binding force.

The final chapter of Mr. Popescu’s agonistic volume contains some recommendations, primarily for New Calendar Priests in Romania, on how to “enlighten” the misguided “Stylists.” Much to his credit, the author makes some rather civil comments in this chapter, in contrast to his odiously crude and sometimes pantagruelian remarks in the foregoing chapter. Among other things, Mr. Popescu suggests that New Calendar Priests comport themselves in a morally irreproachable manner, so as to avoid furnishing Old Calendarists with additional pretexts for remaining separated from the official Church. In essence, he suggests that Patriarchal clergy employ the “velvet glove” rather than the “iron fist,” when dealing with Old Calendarists. This would certainly constitute an improvement over the policies pursued by the Romanian Patriarchate and State in the 1930s and subsequently. He also proposes that New Calendar clergy engage in eirenic public debates with representatives of the Old Calendar movement and that the “correction” of the Church Calendar be clearly explained in religion classes at the nation’s schools. In fact, the Romanian Patriarchate has assiduously avoided such confrontations and would no doubt avoid an objective consideration of the Old Calendar in public schools, since the issue, as we have pointed out, is not quite as Mr. Popescu and others have claimed.

Indeed, in any open forum with competent representatives of both the Old Calendar and New Calendar factions of the Romanian and other local Churches, the calendar issue would emerge as something far more significant than most would think. Much in the same way that the Iconoclasts mocked the Iconodules, in the eighth and ninth centuries, for believing that Icons were an integral part of Holy Tradition, so Old Calendarists are mocked, today, for “worshipping a calendar” or attributing “dogmatic significance” to mere days. Yet, just as when the matter of Iconoclasm was carefully examined by the whole Church, it proved to be an issue of immense moment, so the calendar issue, when examined in a careful and intelligent manner, rises to a level of critical importance. The following quotation brings that fact into focus:

Concerning this question, Father Paul, a monk of the Holy Sepulchre, remarked most justly that a board, before it has the countenance of our Saviour portrayed upon it, is but a common piece of wood which we may bum up or destroy. From the moment, however, that we paint the Icon of Christ, the King of All, upon it, this wood becomes sanctified and a source of sanctification for us, even though the wood be of inferior quality. Likewise, the solar calendar, insofar as it is a calendar of days and months is, in itself, nothing to be esteemed. But from the moment when the Holy Church placed Her seal upon it and organized Her life upon this foundation, even though it has become astronomically erroneous, still it remains holy! The calendar is no longer Julian, but ecclesiastical, just as the board is no longer a simple piece of wood but an Icon. [32]

Indeed, it is further clear that the traditional Church Calendar is so intimately bound up with the liturgical life of the Church—and, in particular, with the Typikon, or the rules and rubrics governing the Church’s worship services—, that when the New Calendar was introduced it gave rise to numerous liturgical anomalies. For example, even the somewhat innovative revised Typikon of the Great Church (of Constantinople), compiled by George Violakis and published in 1888, provides rules for combining the Feasts of Pascha and the Annunciation (Kyriopascha). Yet, this “unique concelebration of salvific events” [33] is altogether precluded by the New Calendar. Likewise, the Feast of the Forty Holy Martyrs of Sebaste can fall, according to the New Calendar, as early as the Tuesday of the Week of the Prodigal Son, and so New Calendarists find themselves chanting the following hymn while partaking of non-fasting fare: “O Prize-winners of Christ, ye have rendered the most honorable Fast more radiant through the commemoration of your glorious suffering; for, being Forty in number, ye sanctify the forty days of Lent, through your own suffering for the sake of Christ emulating His saving Passion.” [34] Finally, there are certain years in which the Apostles’ Fast is simply eliminated, if one adheres to the New Calendar. In 1983, for example, die Bulgarian New Calendarists celebrated the Apostles’ Fast by fasting for one day during the week after Pentecost, when fasting is actually prohibited by the Typikon. [35]

Again, in an open forum, where the Old Calendarists may objectively confront the vacuous polemics of critics such as Mr. Popescu, no reasonable individual could argue that the Church Calendar is not a part of Holy Tradition; that the New Calendar has not introduced confusion into the liturgical life of the Church; or that the calendar reform is, in fact, anything but an ill-conceived innovation. Thus, in response to the claim, in the preface of this volume, by the late Deacon Father Petra David (a rabid critic of the Romanian Old Calendarists [36]), to the effect that the author has succeeded in clarifying the situation created by the calendar change, we would say just the opposite: he has obfuscated the issue and misrepresented myriad facts. Father David’s hope that the author will produce other works “in the realm of learning and truth” we can only confront with our sincere hope that, for the sake of accuracy, he does not do so in the realm of theology or Church history. Mr. Popescu being, as we are told in this book, a student in the Law Faculty at the University of Constanta, we, on our part, strongly urge him to pursue a legal career and to leave the task of writing theology to those who are not only better qualified than he, but who are also perhaps a bit more disinterested and less rectitudinous in their approach to ecclesiastical matters.

 

Notes

1. Constanta: Europolis, 2002. Unfortunately, this at times odiously polemical book claims an imprimatur from the New Calendar Romanian Orthodox Church.

2. The Heresy of Ecumenism and the Patristic Stand of the Orthodox, tr. Archbishop Chrysostomos of Etna and Hieromonk Patapios (Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 1998), p. 44.

3. Ibid., p. 50.

4. Hieromonk Cassian, A Scientific Examination of the Orthodox Church Calendar, ed. Archbishop Chrysostomos of Etna and Hieromonk Gregory (Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 1998), pp. 73-74.

5. Church Chronology and a Critical Review of the Existing Rules for Determining Pascha [in Russian] (St. Petersburg: 1892), pp. 3-4. Cited in Ludmila Perepiolkina, “The Julian Calendar: A Thousand-Year Icon of Time in Russia,” tr. Daniel Olson, Orthodox Life, Vol. XLV, No. 5 (September-October 1995), p. 14.

6. Nofiuni de Cronologie fi Calcul Pascal (Bucharest: Editura Cartilor, 1936), p. 59, cited in Neintelegerea, p. 22.

7. Cited in Constantin Bujor, Resisting Unto Blood: Sixty-Five Years of Persecution of the True (Old Calendar) Orthodox Church of Romania (October 1924-Decetnber 1989), tr. Deacon Father loan Comanescu (Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 2003), pp. 36-37.

8. Neintelegerea, p. 22.

9. Father Basile Sakkas, The Calendar Question, tr. Holy Transfiguration Monastery (Jordanville, NY: Floly Trinity Monastery, 1973), p. 23.

10. Ibid., p. 24.

11. Neintelegerea, p. 23.

12. Curiously enough, Mr. Popescu calls him “one of the great Patrologists.”

13. Neintelegerea, p. 23.

14. The Rudder, tr. D. Cummings (Chicago: Orthodox Christian Educational Society, 1957), p. 10 [We have made some slight terminological amendments to this translation, based on the Greek original].

15. Resisting Unto Blood, p. 10.

16. Cited in Sakkas, The Calendar Question, p. 26.

17. Neintelegerea, pp. 28-29.

18. Neintelegerea, p. 27.

19. Neintelegerea, pp. 27-28.

20. Scientific Examination, p. 54.

21. Bishop Photii of Triaditza, The Road to Apostasy: Significant Essays on Ecumenism (Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 1995), p. 35.

22. Ratacire Calendaristica (n.p.: Editura Mitropoliei Moldovei, 1935).

23. See a full recounting of this persecution in Constantin Bujor, 65 de Ani de Persecute a Bisericii Ortodoxe Romane de Stil Vechi: Octombrie 1924-Decembrie 1989 (Slatioara: Editura “Schimbarea la Fata,” 1999).

24. Resisting Unto Blood, p. 64.

25. Ibid., pp. 68-69.

26. The Rudder, p. 131; Daniel 5:1-4.

27. E.g., the Thirty-First Apostolic Canon, the Fifth Canon of the Synod of Antioch, and the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Canons of the First-Second Synod.

28. The Rudder, p. 471.

29. Book 11, ch. 37, §13. See also Socrates, Ecclesiastical History, Book I, ch. 9 (Patrologia Grceca, Vol. LXVII, cols. 81B-84A), and the excellent article by Archimandrite Sergius, “The First Ecumenical Synod and the Feast of Pascha,” Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XIV, Nos. 2-3 (1997), pp. 2-8.

30. Neintelegerea, p. 42.

31. Patrologia Grceca, Vol. IV, col. 18IB.

32. Sakkas, The Calendar Question, p. 11.

33. Scientific Examination, p. 116.

34. March 9, Matins, Doxastikon at the Praises.

35. Scientific Examination, p. 132.

36. See Archbishop Chrysostomos, “An Orthodox Auto-da-Fe: Critical Comments on a Recent Book on Sects,” Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XX, No. 1 (2003), pp. 5-20. Also in Romanian, “Un Autodafe Ortodox,” tr. Ioana Ieronim, Dilema, XI (2003), nrs. 522, 523, & 524.

 

Source: Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XXI (2004), No. 2, pp. 14-26.

Are You Ready to Approach Holy Communion?

Metropolitan Augoustinos (Kantiotes) of Florina | March 26, 1961

 

 

Fifth Sunday of Lent (Mark 10:32–45)

I begin, my beloved, with a question to all. My question is this: are we here, are we here in the church? For apart from the body, our spirit also must be here.

Did a minute pass? We sinned. That is why I say: are we here? Are we following the Divine Liturgy?

Did we hear the divine words, which breaks rocks and hearts? Did we feel the event that today’s holy Gospel describes?

The Church in these days conveys the loftiest messages. And the prelude to these messages is what we heard today: “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem…” (Mark 10:33).

These words, which Christ spoke to His disciples shortly before the Passion, the Church also addresses to us.

Next Sunday, when the services of Holy Week begin, this is exactly what we shall hear in a troparion: “As the Lord was coming to His voluntary Passion, He said to the apostles on the way: Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem…” (Doxastikon of the Praises, Holy Monday).

Let us go, He says; let us go up to Jerusalem; let us ascend noetically, spiritually.

A person must always be prepared, because we do not know at what hour the Lord will call us to Himself. But above all let us prepare ourselves during these holy days, all the more since we are about to partake of the immaculate Mysteries. “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem…”

Every time we draw near to commune, we hear this voice of the Lord: Forward, let us go up to Jerusalem! But how many, I wonder, commune worthily? All year long we sin; yet I fear, my brethren, that we commit the greatest sin precisely during Holy Week, when we approach the Holy of Holies with an impure heart.

I fear lest out of a hundred Christians there may not be even one worthy to commune. It is not enough to open your mouth and receive Holy Communion; you must also prepare yourself, and thus approach the holy Mysteries.

What is the reason that young and old alike approach the immaculate Mysteries unconsciously, formally, and mechanically? The reason is that we have never sat down to study, to examine, what this mystery is, the Divine Eucharist.

There are important books. I recommend to each of you, before communing, to open the Horologion of the Church or the Synopsis or the Synekdemos, and to read that service which every Christian ought to read before Holy Communion.

This mystery is the mystery of mysteries. The unbeliever sees nothing. But the believer has spiritual eyes; he enters the church and sees. The believer believes. First and foremost, he believes in the words of Christ. And Christ told us: “He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life,” that whoever eats the body and drinks the blood of the Lord has eternal life (John 6:54).

Christ told us that this is necessary: “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in yourselves”; that a man has no life if he does not commune of Christ (ibid. 6:53).

The believer in church feels a spiritual tremor. He feels that at the hour of the Divine Liturgy, at the moment when upon the holy altar the priest has the bread and the wine and says, “Thine own of Thine own…,” at the moment when we have all knelt and the chanters are singing, “We hymn Thee…,” at that very moment a miracle takes place, the greatest miracle in the world.

The Holy Spirit descends, and the bread becomes the body of our Christ and the wine becomes His blood, blood that steams upon dreadful Golgotha.

Oh, what mysteries, my brethren! Whoever does not believe, it is better for him not to enter the church; let him remain outside. Has he entered the church? Then it is over; man no longer treads on the earth, upon the stones; he is aloft, on the wings of angels and archangels; he is above. “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem.”

These are the things he believes, and so it is. The unbelievers, however, and the heretics, the Chiliast or the Protestant, you hear them say: But is it possible for the bread and the wine to become the body and blood of Christ?…

I do not understand it, I do not feel it… What are we to answer them?

You do not feel it? But is this the only mystery in the world? There are so many others. Do you want examples? How does coal in the earth become a diamond? How does grass become meat in the sheep? How does the bread that we eat every day become bones, muscles, nerves, brain, heart, lungs, the life of man? How even does the mother’s blood, which departs from her heart, become milk and nourish the child?

Let them first explain these things to us, and then let them ask us also to explain to them how the bread and the wine become the body and blood of our Christ.

We believe, therefore, in the mystery. And this mystery, my brethren, is the greatest benefaction to man. We thank God for the sun that gives us light, for the water that we drink, for the bread that we eat, for the air that we breathe, for all the good things of the earth.

But above all we thank God—why? Because He counts us worthy, us the worms of the earth, to partake of the body of Him whom the heavens cannot contain. He fits within the heart of a sinner. O grace, O blessing, O great gift!

***

And now I ask you: Brethren, are you ready to approach the immaculate Mysteries? Have you examined yourselves, lest perhaps you have some hidden sin which stings you like a scorpion and which until now you have not confessed to your spiritual father?

Have you committed some injustice and not set it right? Are you at odds with someone, do you have enmity with anyone, and have you not yet tried to be reconciled?

Examine all these matters. And if your conscience is clean, then you may approach. Otherwise, no.

Some say: Well, now that it is Pascha, let us commune…

They also asked the holy Chrysostom:

“How often should we commune?” And he spoke the wisest word:

“Are you ready, is your heart clean? Commune every day! Are you not ready? Not even at Pascha!”

For at Pascha Judas also communed and was condemned.

Therefore, we too say: Christians, you who intend during these holy days to commune of the immaculate Mysteries, take heed. Are you ready? Approach. Are you not ready? Keep away!…

Keep away, because Holy Communion is fire! Are you straw, an unrepentant sinner? Holy Communion will burn you. But if you are gold, then however many times you enter into the fire of Holy Communion, you will come forth more radiant, more holy.

These are the things our holy Church teaches. And today she cries out to us: “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem…”

***

I pray, my brethren, with all my heart, that no one may approach like Judas. It is better for him to remain far from Holy Communion. The right thing is for him to go and find a venerable priest, an elder confessor, a spiritual father with white hair, to kneel before him, to tell his sins, to ask for the mercy of God, to perform his penance for one year and two and three years, and then to commune of the immaculate Mysteries.

Go and read today’s synaxarion of our venerable Mother Mary of Egypt. Did she commune immediately after her repentance? No. She crossed the river Jordan and went into the desert. How many years did she perform her penance, tell me? She performed penance for 47 years, and then she communed.

And she died “on the day on which she communed of the immaculate Mysteries.” O my God, O my God! May we too be counted worthy in this way! I do not want money, I do not want palaces, I do not want treasures, I do not want wisdom, I do not want anything; I want God to count me also, and you, worthy to have her end.

On the day when we depart from this vain world, may He count us also worthy to commune of the immaculate Mysteries for the last time, saying, “Remember me, Lord, when Thou comest in Thy kingdom” (Luke 23:42).

 

Greek source: https://katanixi.gr/mitropolitoy-florinis-p-aygoystinoy-2/

 

Tuesday, March 31, 2026

The Path to God

Archbishop Sergius (Korolev) of Kazan and Chistopol (+1952)

 

 

People constantly complain that life is monotonously gray, that it has become hateful to them and therefore seems very unhappy. Every day we get up and work until exhaustion and never see a ray of joy. And besides all this, we do not cease to be grieved, irritated, and angry, mostly over trifles.

Whence comes this oppressive feeling of unhappiness and abandonment? The origin of our misfortunes lies in the fact that we yield to the influence of external circumstances, living mechanically, and become slaves to things that have no significance whatsoever, things that are here today and may not be here tomorrow. In other words, we mistake the unceasingly passing life, with its anger, insults, envy, and hatred, for real life.

The constant agitation in which we live is the cause of the loss of peace and calm in our hearts, which, as a result, are plunged into darkness. But he who walks in darkness stumbles; and we are cast into darkness because we take the sinful state of our souls, that is, their possession by dark forces, for reality. And when we carry this anxiety into our spiritual relations with others, mutual disunity and estrangement arise. Such a feeling of disunity is a cause of suffering. Undoubtedly, however, each of us strives for well-being and happiness, for God gave us the earth for joyful dwelling upon it, gave it to us so that we might be happy on it and, so to speak, partake of the glory of God. But where are we to seek good and joy in everyday life? We like to strive after heroic exploits in the hope that they will give us the possibility of attaining blessedness. But this is only a fleeting moment of passing joy. We, however, seek abiding joy and well-being in our daily life.

A great obstacle on this path of ours to joy is the fact that for the most part we live mechanically, for we do not judge man from the side of the soul, in all his fullness, but touch him only from the outward side, not taking the trouble to reach the true essence of man. This is all the greater an omission because in reality the life of each one of us is a great wealth. Every person has his own personality, every one has his own task, each of us is, as it were, a messenger of God. Alongside this it must especially be emphasized that in every person there is more good than evil.

One might naturally ask: how can this be so? Around us one sees so much that is bad, a whole sea of evil. Yes, but if evil is a full sea, then good is positively an entire ocean. Evil in us does not cease to show itself on the surface; it catches the eye, whereas good is hidden, scattered, not concentrated. Evil is bold, whereas good is modest. Evil is darkness, sin; it is our weakness and misfortune, our death. Good is light, a uniting force, power, joy. In short, good is life. We do not encounter one another by chance. The Lord unites us in the family, in society, in the nation, whereas the spirit of evil strives to divide us and set us at odds. Our task is to overcome this disintegrating force, for only by this path can we discern that one thing in us which is from God and which gives us well-being in life. Evil and sin rob man, for they do not allow him to manifest himself in the full measure of his spiritual essence. But when man does not overcome that which divides us, then we do not see true life, but only its seeming image. Such disunity and isolation are subject to severe condemnation, for we are called to communion. Only in communion does our soul fully blossom in life. Therefore, communion among us is not a matter of indifference; it is manifested first and chiefly in the word. Yet the word must be regarded as a reflection of the Word.

The Lord said, “Let there be light.” And the light came into being. The invisible received its existence from the Word. The word can manifest tremendous power. In the 32nd Psalm we read: “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and by the breath of His mouth all their host.” In us as well, by the word the hidden is manifested and becomes plain. Therefore, one must use the word with great caution. It is important that our word breathe goodness into the surrounding atmosphere. For by means of the word we wish to attain well-being. Therefore, the word that proceeds from our lips must contain within itself that good which will illumine our life. When in conversation a good word has had force, there long remains after such a conversation a sense of something precious, substantial, divine. The word should draw us closer to one another, bringing unity and not division and disintegration. But we live in sinfulness, which weakens the power of our word, and therefore the word does not enter our life in its full strength. Only a word free from sin manifests itself in full power, for in that case it is united with the Word that created the light. A word that falls into an environment that resists it acts with the greatest force and has enormous significance in the ordering of our life. A word issuing from the hidden recesses of the soul, not weakened by our own sinfulness, being the power of the potential good within us, brings with it light and goodness, since it is in union with the Source of light and with the Word. The word becomes incarnate.

If we utter a word without attention, we do not think that these words, rising to heaven and vanishing into eternity, may be bearers of divisions and disintegration in the family, in society, among nations, throughout the whole world. When we gather in company, we usually begin with judgment, and very quickly pass over to condemnation. Judgment and condemnation are a poison that disintegrates life. Condemnation divides us, repels one from another, whereas the word—a reflection of the Logos on earth—ought to carry with it the light and joy of being into the atmosphere of enmity and disintegration in which we live. The word has eternity within it. It is of the highest importance that our relations with people give us the joy of life; therefore, we must use words in such a way as not to be condemned by them. “But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment” (Matt. 12:36).

Therefore, in our relations with people we must be sociable and not shun them. If we succeed in finding that which is common among us and which proceeds from God, then true joy will dwell in our heart. In this way we acquire values by which we then live. Seeking and finding communion in God, we become fellow workers with God here on earth. Through such cooperation we are reborn and enter into the realm of the essence of light. In such a rebirth there is reflected both the light and the glory of God, and the Lord Himself finds in us a foundation on the basis of which He can draw near to us. “For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matt. 18:20). Thus, when people live in company with two or three, in a family or in some other shared life, and thereby overcome their estrangement, they begin to feel a community of the interests of life, which brings them happiness and well-being. The overcoming of this distance creates the impression of our identification with others, as though we lived soul to soul. We are all created in the image of God, and it is precisely this image of God that unites us. By this means we gradually attain unanimity in the expression of the will. This is that unity of which Christ said: “That they all may be one; as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be one in Us: that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me” (John 17:21). The consequence of this is that in unity there is life, in division there is death. This unity is like a thread cast from earth to heaven, to God, to the unifying center. Unity brings us well-being, which is the foundation of our true joy in life. This is the law of life. Whoever deviates from it must inevitably suffer for it. Unfortunately, in our petty everyday way of life we usually do not regard it as our duty to seek in this drab life that which we have from God and which alone can draw us close to one another. On the contrary, we take the image of division for true life and do not even try in any way to overcome this division, despite the fact that such division deprives us of the possibility of finding joy even in everyday life, prevents us from opening our soul and manifesting our true qualities. These qualities live in us precisely so that we may manifest them. The Lord has endowed us all with good qualities and has given us potential abilities for their realization, but we do not manifest them rightly, not making use of the powers that slumber within us, but by which we could move mountains. If only we desire it, we can kindle within ourselves a blazing fire of good. If we acknowledge that daily life is in fact only a means to the creation of true life, then we see that we have turned the means into the end. As a result, we go through life as though in a dream, plunged into darkness, sinfulness, and passions, gazing only at the darkness that we now see before us. The evil spirit hinders us from looking at the light, and we become instruments of his dark powers and because of this, of course, suffer greatly. We must look around us at life with open eyes. And then we notice that the mechanized life to which we have wholly surrendered ourselves is poisoning our soul. True, we know that our soul was created for eternity, but we do not care for it at all; on the contrary, we try in every possible way to acquire material riches, neglecting eternal riches. We are very poor merchants, for we appraise our soul far too cheaply, although we possess nothing more precious than it. We buy only that which has absolutely no value for eternity, and we pay no attention to that which passes into eternity. We do this because sin has darkened for us the true condition of all things. Only when we truly come to know all the falsity and untruth of our life, only then will a real exchange take place, for man will come to know the light of God that illumines his darkness, will begin to find his bearings in the vanity of life, and will begin to direct himself toward God and eternity. Let us not forget that each one of us has received certain talents, and we are obliged to manifest and then to multiply this talent given us by God.

The unfolding of this talent has been placed directly into our hands. In meeting other people, we must overcome within ourselves that which separates us from them; by this we manifest our abilities, unfold the talents entrusted to us, and by this value enrich both ourselves and them. Every encounter in which we conduct ourselves attentively toward those around us will be for us a source of great enrichment, for in such an encounter there will always be light and goodness. For beauty can be found in every person, but our sinfulness hinders this. Therefore, even in everyday life one should seek its true values by rejecting its mechanical course. And by this we attain that not a single day will pass idly into eternity, but each day will be for us a source of at least some small measure of joy and well-being, as constituent parts of eternity that will pass with us into the life to come. If we wish to merit these values, then we must awaken within ourselves the creative power by which we can overcome our inertia and free ourselves from the darkness of the passions that have taken possession of us. Passion and sin take from us the true joy of life and prevent us from seeing the beauty of God’s light. Therefore it is precisely the overcoming of sin that leads to a joyful knowledge of the world and at the same time to the creation of a new, true life, which in fact is the task of every person. In this way we attain that the outward, old man dies within us and a new man is created. By overcoming sin, we uncover the good, with which, if only for a moment, we immerse ourselves in eternity.

How are we to realize this creative life? By being constantly on guard, so as to be aware of all the vices in the life of the soul and to eliminate them. It is felt that we are truly, as it were, on the border between good and evil. In our heart, almost every moment, a struggle is being waged between evil and God. Evil unceasingly introduces darkness into our heart: irritation, anger, envy, condemnation, laziness. If, with God’s help, we overcome this darkness, then light will enter our heart, or even the Lord Himself.

I repeat: it is very important that we realize that the Lord created the world by the Word, for He said, “Let there be light!” If we strive to live a creative life, then we shall become, as it were, a reflection of the Creator Himself. Good thoughts appear in us as a reflection of God’s creative thought. A good thought is itself light, for it gives us light in the likeness of the creative principle which it brings from the very Source of Light—God. A good thought shines and penetrates into the chaos of life’s contacts between good and evil, creates a new life, and leads to the overcoming of darkness. It was said: “While ye have light, believe in the light, that ye may be the children of light. These things spake Jesus, and departed, and did hide Himself from them” (John 12:36). God’s light illumines us constantly and everywhere, but the darkness of our soul repels it. In essence, when some thought illumines us, we experience it as though it were a ray from heaven that has shone upon us and illumined everything that until then had been unclear to us. Such a ray awakens us from sleep and proclaims the power of God. “Let there be light,” said God, and light appeared. But it appears now also, and by it a new life comes before our eyes. By this light we can transform our gray life as well into a new, bright, joyful life, when, of course, we pay special attention in the direction of this light, which penetrates into us in the form of a good thought that urges us to overcome evil.

By the creative power manifested in us, we discover within ourselves the source of good and learn to feel the joy of life, and as a consequence of this our attitude toward life will be not mechanical in character, but creative. And this creative activity will at the same time bring a clarification of our life.

In the intellectual realm, a man often compels himself to reflect and to work, not infrequently for whole years. Through strenuous effort one can come into contact with God’s light. Having then entered into the realm of luminous thoughts, we dispel the darkness of our heart and thereby begin to create a new life that frees us from evil. Our misfortune lies in the fact that our will has been weakened by sin. Therefore, the will must be so educated that it may help us emerge from confused feelings into the realm of another being, into the realm of light. To sins we surrender slavishly, whereas to the Lord we surrender by our own will. But this, indeed, is possible only if we overcome sin within ourselves. For this purpose, an enormous effort must be applied; true heroism must be shown. Therefore, the man who has overcome sinfulness by an act of his will is free, whereas the man given over to sin is a slave of sin. He who has overcome sin sows joy and has allowed light to enter the heart, that is, the Lord. When there is light in our heart, we feel as though everything around us gives us joy and that being itself has drawn near to us. Thus we come to the realization that our sinful life is in essence not true being, but a distorted one that brings unhappiness. True being contains only good and brings only well-being. Thus the struggle with sin, which is true progress, is the primary source of a new life, full of joys hitherto unknown to us.

Let us not forget that every person, as I have said, has his own special calling, a certain advantage of his own, his own beauty, by which he must serve the light. Thus individual human being is manifested, freed from sin and developed into the fullness of true life. It becomes a valuable contribution to the treasury of the whole world.

Naturally, in these efforts we must not be afraid of exertion or avoid it. After all, in athletic training we sometimes use great effort. It is not hard for us to rise early for athletic exercises; for their sake we know how to deny ourselves excessive food and drink and to perform various special exercises the whole day long. And in such undertakings we may speak of heroism or even asceticism, employed, of course, for earthly goals. All who wish to become athletes must be temperate. They do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one. “And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible” (1 Cor. 9:25). All the more natural, then, is heroism for the Christian who wishes to overcome his sinful nature, which hinders him from attaining happiness and deprives him of eternal life.

The overcoming of sin gives us the joy of being; it gives it not only to the man who struggles against evil and conquers it, but through him it is communicated to others as well. In this way the personal overcoming of sin by one man becomes the possession of all humanity, becomes the basis of social rebirth, by which evil on earth is destroyed and the common good is increased. The consequence of this is the overcoming of all sin by virtue, extending to the whole world. By overcoming sin, a man concentrates good within himself and, together with this, the beauty of human dignity, and enriches others as well. Good is eternal; it proceeds from God and strives to return to God. This striving of good toward God is true life and constitutes the realization of the Kingdom of God on earth. The Kingdom of God is not obtained by us easily, but only through effort. It is a good that can be realized here on earth, and not somewhere above the clouds. Remaining in sins diminishes this good, my joy of life.

Our forefathers were created sinless, but from the moment of the first sin, it enters into our very nature, is born with us, and holds us captive. We must be convinced that sin is not something that is truly ours. This awareness is very important for us, because it awakens in us the striving to free ourselves from sin, which brings us unhappiness. Further success in the struggle against sin consists in this: that we begin, to a certain degree, to be reborn. One who was formerly irritable and hot-tempered, for example, learns to restrain these impulses; one who was stingy becomes generous; a man constantly troubled and wrathful finds peace. The good that is within us is manifested in the struggle with our passions. This is precisely that cross of which we are so afraid, but with the cross come joy and resurrection as well. The thought of resurrection is the victorious thought of good. To remain in sin is to be in darkness, whereas he who remains in a state of holiness lives in the light, the source of which is the Holy Spirit. In this state man is reunited with God, returns to the Father, and experiences with his whole being joy in the Holy Spirit.

By driving the darkness out of our heart with heavenly light, we are filled with the Holy Spirit, who transforms our life at its very foundation, calling life out of non-being into true being, and this light then determines our direction toward a new life. The struggle with our passions is difficult, and therefore we must turn to God for help, without Whom we are not able to change our sinful nature. The Lord is always near us and will help us at once. A brief but fervent prayer is enough: “O God, help,” and by this very thing we bring a new life into being. A thought turned to God for help pierces the heavens, and from heaven there comes an answer to our cry in the form of light, driving out the darkness that has settled in our heart. Every thought of God is a consequence of the action of the Holy Spirit within us. By crying out to God, we pass over into another realm of being. This union with the Light of God is already in itself an act, for by our petition we attain this, that the Light of God is poured out upon us and awakens in us the energy for action, so that the good that until now had slumbered within us is awakened and manifests itself. This light is our guiding star. Calling upon God illumines our inward being with heavenly radiance, enlightens that which surrounds us, and, what is most important, helps us climb out of our gray life, which chiefly shows itself because of our weakness of will. Along with this there arises the impression that by this light eternity itself is opened before us and that in this way we ourselves become partakers of it.

Such a change of our heart from darkness to light, or from evil to good, is the miracle of the transformation of the old man into the new; it is the drawing near to us of heaven, for which we so ardently long. In moments of such change, we undoubtedly enter into another being, touch eternity, and become convinced that man is truly given great power to transform a sinful life, with God’s help, into the Kingdom of God. And every such man is, as it were, a wonderworker, for by victory over sin he reveals God within himself. In our daily life we are too much cut off and removed from the source of God’s light; this is all the greater a misfortune for us because by the light of God we are able to become capable of seeing and recognizing the illusory character of our ordinary life.

Without calling upon God, we can in no way free ourselves from slavery to things and become absolute slaves of our surroundings. But a single small turning to God is enough, and soon our heart is illumined by His light and the true significance of things in this world is shown to us. Therefore it is necessary as often as possible to illumine our daily life with a ray of God’s light, by overcoming sin, as though opening a window into our inner being, so that through it heavenly light may pour into our heart. This is the foundation of the creative life, of the spiritual and Christian life; at the same time it is the foundation of well-being and happiness. The more such bright moments there are in our life, the more our life will be illumined by Divine light; the more resolutely we must reject the passions, and our life will acquire ever more unexpected beauty and value. Then man will experience the true joy of life and a good undisturbed by anything; and all this is nothing other than victory over sin and drawing near to God. Then true life will be established on earth, that life for which we pray daily in the words: “Thy Kingdom come.” It is necessary that we understand that the Kingdom of God is true good and happiness on earth. True joy for the liberation of the heart is the joy of the Holy Spirit, who has descended into us.

To name oneself a Christian means to come out of a state of sleep and inertia, to manifest one’s creative powers. It is necessary to spread the understanding that Christianity is not passive, but on the contrary wages a very active struggle against sin. Christianity is not something cut off and infinitely remote, but on the contrary something fully realizable here on earth.

The Christian religion is not a religion of grief and suffering, but, on the contrary, a religion of joy and well-being. The Apostle Paul says: “Rejoice always” (1 Thess. 5:16). But in reality we can rejoice only when we overcome within ourselves the state of sinfulness, for only the overcoming of sin can bring the soul joy, which is the beginning of blessedness; concerning this the Apostle Paul said: “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him” (1 Cor. 2:9).

 

Russian source: https://azbyka.ru/otechnik/Sergij_Korolev/put-k-bogu/

Saints Anthony the Great and Athanasios the Great: Models of Mysticism and Action

by Archimandrite Sergius [Yazadzhiev, +2008] Former Assistant Professor Faculty of Theology University of Sofia, Bulgaria     St. ...