For Christian Unity

Tonight I am filled with emotion. Tonight my daughter received her first communion as an Orthodox Christian, after having been in the Orthodox Church for eight years. And tonight a bishop who is beloved to me received his last communion for the forseeable future.

This will be incomprehensible for my friends who are not Orthodox, and I have tried to avoid this kind of controversy in my writings. But the fact remains that Orthodox Christians, particularly in the United States, use the denial of communion as a weapon against each other. This beloved bishop has had enough. He feels that, as a bishop, if he is not taking a stand against this kind of disunity, he is part the problem.

I have never understood the Orthodox Communion Litmus Test, but it goes something like this: An Orthodox Christian visiting another Orthodox church approaches the chalice for communion. The priest has been instructed by his bishop to stop the communicant and ask, "What church do you go to?" By this he means, "What jurisdiction of the Orthodox Church are you a part of?" If the communicant answers with the "right" jurisdiction -- that is, one whose bishop his bishop likes and approves of, the communicant is allowed to receive. If not, the communicant is denied.

For a group of Christians that calls itself the True Church, this is pretty disappointing. The True Church can't even share communion with other members of the True Church? What can the "heretics" be thinking about us?

The word "canonical" is often bandied about and this has always left me even more confused. "Canonical," as far as I've always understood, means "according to canon." And we do have canons in the Church -- ancient traditions that bind us together (or at least, are supposed to.) After 2,000 years, none of us is completely "canonical." In the United States, we violate the canons by, for example, having two Orthodox bishops in the same city. Nevertheless, this word "canonical" is used to mean "my bishop doesn't like your bishop." The "canonicity" of said bishop is not actually in question. It's not about how scrupulously his group follows Church Tradition. It's about whether said bishop is on the approved "list" put together by the bishops with the most money, turf and power.

I will anger people by saying these things. And to be honest, this makes me nervous. But, as this beloved bishop pointed out, just before receiving his last communion, Jesus was scourged and mocked and crucified, while modern Christians tend to dislike being inconvenienced or made unpopular for the sake of speaking out.

This does not mean that I have courage. I don't. I grieve every day about the rift between me and many of my Orthodox friends. We don't talk about it because we do care about each other, and it hurts to talk about. Saying these things will create even more distance between us.

But watching this bishop, who is beloved to me, (and has been since I was a troubled teenager), receive his last communion broke my heart. I know how to write. And it is not for me to remain silent any more.

And even amid all the sorrow and disunity,

CHRIST HAS RISEN FROM THE DEAD, TRAMPLING DOWN DEATH BY DEATH, AND UPON THOSE IN THE TOMBS BESTOWING LIFE.

Thinking 'bout the Saints

And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel and the prophets, who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies. Women received back their dead, raised to life again. Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated— the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground. Hebrews 11:32-38

I know a man who, when it is his turn to read this passage, cannot get through it without tears. I wonder if it is because after years of not only studying, but celebrating daily the lives of the Saints, these events do not seem to him like something that only happened in Biblical times, but at all times in our history as the Church.

Today's my birthday and I'm thinking about Saints. (I wish there was a connection, but there's not). On this day (in the Gregorian calendar) we celebrate The Hieromartyr Charalampus, Bishop of Magnesia, the Martyrs Porphyrius and Baptus and Three Women Martyrs, who suffered in the year 202, The Holy Virgin Martyrs Ennatha, Valentina and Paula, who suffered in the year 308, and Saint Prochorus of the Caves, who was a native of Smolensk, and entered the Kiev Caves monastery under the igumen John (1089-1103). (For more go to www.oca.org and click Feasts and Saints)

In looking at the Saints listed above, I would note that only one of them, St. Prochurus, could be called specifically an "Orthodox" Saint. This is because the Church split in 1054. Up to then, we were one Church. (There were no Protestants until the Reformation, several hundred years later.) So it begs the question -- if these Saints are our great-grandparents in the faith, why don't most American Christians know about them?

That's how I've felt as a convert to Orthodoxy. And I grew up in a liturgical church. While the Saints are not God, neither are they ordinary. They are the ones who have, at great expense, pressed into God to the point that His light shined through them. Here's just one example from Scripture of their not-ordinariness:

And I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded because of their testimony for Jesus and because of the word of God. They had not worshiped the beast or his image and had not received his mark on their foreheads or their hands. They came to life and reigned with Christ a thousand years.Revelation 20:4

I first began reading hagiographies before I was Orthodox. I was writing a book about St. Vaclav ("King Wenceslas"), who was a 10th century saint. The things said about him seemed so fanciful to me that I despaired of finding some "real history" to read about him. All the miraculous stuff was thrown right in with the "real" stuff. I read hagiographies that way for several years, kind of winking and snickering, even at the gruesome deaths of martyrs. It seemed so over-the-top.

Now it occurs to me that I never winked and snickered at the crucifixion, nor at the story of the youths in the fiery furnace, nor at the beheading of John the Baptist. Those stories seemed "real" to me because they were in the Bible. And the fact that Jesus rose from the dead and that he previously walked around with Shadrach, Mishak and Abednigo in the flames was easy for me to swallow because I'd been told those stories since childhood. Yet I'd discount as fanciful the stories of the Christians who followed over the 2000 years since the Resurrection and gave their lives wholly to Christ. They gave themselves way, way, way more than I have, and many are doing the same today.

So I think it is at our peril that we discount the Saints. Without them, we would have no Bible, no Church, no Good News. It would have been lost to the ages, just as many of their lives have been to generations of Christians.