There is Hope for Power-Hungry Disciples, a Prostitute, and Us: Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Great Lent in the Orthodox Church

Hebrews 9:11-14

Mark 10:32-45

           The tragic events of the last week both in Boston and in West have reminded us all of the brokenness, pain, and corruption of life in the world as we know it.  God did not create humanity for terrorist bombings, industrial explosions, fear, mourning, and suffering, but to participate in the peace, joy, and holiness of the heavenly Kingdom even as we live in the world He created.  As we near the end of Lent this year, we should have no illusions about how far human beings have fallen short of fulfilling the Lord’s purposes for us.

            His reign has nothing to do with the pursuit of worldly glory and power of the sort that James and John sought by asking Christ for positions of honor.   Our Savior told them that they did not know what they were asking, for to follow Him into the Kingdom will require that they drink the cup and undergo the baptism of suffering and death.  The Lord reminded them that “even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.”  The world still looks down upon humble self-less service that puts others first, but that is the way of Christ’s salvation and of all true discipleship.  

            On this fifth Sunday of Great Lent, we remember St. Mary of Egypt, someone who also had to abandon the ways of the world in order to follow Christ.  She had been a prostitute and a slave to her own perverse sexual passions.   Her life was an obscene scandal, but that changed when an invisible force prevented her from entering the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem.  She then asked for the help of the Theotokos, entered the church to venerate the Holy Cross, and obeyed a divine command to spend the rest of her life in repentance and strict asceticism as a hermit in the desert.  When the monk Zosima stumbled upon her almost 50 years later, he was amazed at her holiness.  But like all the saints, she was aware only of her sins and her ongoing need for God’s mercy.

            Like hateful violence, sexual immorality stands as another symptom of fallen humanity’s spiritual disease.  Regardless of what is popular or easy today, the faithful and lifelong union of man and woman in marriage remains the only context for the sexual joining of two human beings that the Body of Christ has ever blessed or affirmed. Marriage is a sign of the relationship between Christ and the Church and is ultimately for our growth in holiness, for our salvation.  Passions and desires may tempt us to other kinds of behaviors and relationships, whether we are married or single. Regardless of the particulars, no kind of physical union outside of true marriage provides a way to participate more fully in Christ’s victory over sin and death.  We will only make our spiritual state worse by engaging in other activities.     

            St. Mary of Egypt presents a powerful counter-cultural example that, yes, it is possible to resist even deeply rooted temptations and to turn away from corrupt ways of living that have become all too familiar.  Do not accept the lie that life was so much easier for people long ago.  Human nature has not changed and our struggles today are surely no harder than hers.  When St. Mary of Egypt prayed before the icon of the Theotokos, she acknowledged for the first time the sad truth about her life.  She had heard in the past that Jesus Christ came to save sinners, and now she knew that she was one.  And that humble confession was the beginning of a life of such holiness that we devote a Sunday in Lent each year to her memory.

            Have you ever noticed that we do not hide repentant sinners in our Church? Instead, we put them on icons and sing about them because they are wonderful examples of the kind of people we hope to become by God’s mercy. So take heart and keep hope alive.  The same Lord who patiently corrected power-hungry disciples and who made a great saint out of an enthusiastic prostitute wants to make each of us shine with the light of holiness also.  But for that to happen, we have to follow their example of repentance by humbly setting right what has gone wrong in our lives, serving others in humility, and fighting even our deeply rooted and most appealing passions.

            Yes, in Christ Jesus there is hope for us all, no matter what we have done or who we have become.  Now, so near the end of Lent, it is time to get over our pride and embarrassment, to take the medicine of confession and repentance, and to follow our Savior to His cross and empty tomb.  For He is still the One who brings light into our darkened world and heals all our wounds.  

            

"Lord, I Believe; Help My Unbelief": Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent in the Orthodox Church

Hebrews 6:13-20

Mark 9:17-30

           Sometimes we stand before God with more doubt than belief, with more despair than hope.  Sometimes our worries and fears increase; the joy of life slips away and we feel rotten.  Maybe it’s our health, the problems of our loved ones, stress about a busy schedule, or other matters at home, at work, or with our friends.  We are sometimes simply at the end of our rope.

            If you feel that way today or ever have in your life, you can begin to sympathize with the father of the demon-possessed young man in today’s gospel reading.  Since childhood, his son had had life-threatening seizures and convulsions. With the broken heart of a parent who has little hope for his child’s healing, the man cries out, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.”  Christ’s disciples had lacked the spiritual strength to cast out the demon, but the Lord Himself healed him.  We can only imagine how grateful the man and his son were for this blessing.

            And imagine how embarrassed the disciples were.  The Lord had referred to them as part of a “faithless generation” and asked how long he would have to put with them.  He told them that demons like this “can come out by nothing but prayer and fasting,” spiritual exercises designed to strengthen our faith and to purify our souls.  Not only were the disciples unable to cast out the demon, they could not even understand the Savior’s prediction of His own death and resurrection.   At this point in the journey, they were not great models of faithfulness.

            In fact, the best example of faithfulness in this story is the unnamed father.  He wants help for his child, and he tells the truth about himself.  His faith was imperfect; he had doubts; his hopes for his son’s healing had been crushed many times before.  He said to Christ, “If you can do anything, have compassion on us.”  In other words, he wasn’t entirely sure if the Lord could heal his son.  All that he could do was to cry out with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.” 

            And in doing so, he showed that he had the spiritual clarity that the disciples lacked, for he knew the weakness of his faith.  Still, with every ounce of his being He called to the Lord for mercy.  He received it and the young man was set free.

            If we have taken Lent seriously at all this year, we will have become at least a bit like this honest father when our struggles with spiritual disciplines have shown us our weakness.  When we pray, we often welcome distractions; and it’s so easy not to pray at all.  When we set out to fast from food or something else to which we have become too attached, we often become angry and frustrated.  When we try to forgive and be reconciled with others, memories of past wrongs and fears about the future often overcome our good intentions.    We wrestle with our passions just a bit, and they get the better of us.   We so easily do, think, and say things that aren’t holy at all.  We put so much else before loving God and our neighbors.  Lent is good at breaking down our illusions of holiness, at giving us a clearer picture of our spiritual state.  And often we don’t like what we see.   

            If that’s where you are today, take heart, for Jesus Christ came to show mercy upon people like the father in our gospel lesson.   That man knew his weakness, he did not try to hide it, and he honestly threw himself on the mercy of the Lord.  He made no excuses; he did not justify himself; he did not complain.  He did not hide his doubt and frustration before God.   He did not wallow in wounded pride, obsess about his imperfections, or worry about what someone else would think of him. Instead, he simply acknowledged the truth about his situation and called upon Christ with every ounce of his being for help with a problem that had broken his heart.

We don’t know how religious this man appeared to anyone else.   Perhaps his fasting had been his many years of selfless struggle to care for his son; perhaps his prayers had always been focused on the boy’s healing.  But we do know that this man, in humility and honesty, received the mercy of Jesus Christ when he called to Him.

With whatever level of spiritual clarity we possess, with whatever amount of faith in our souls, with whatever doubts, fears, weaknesses, and sins that beset us, let us all follow his example of opening the wounds of our hearts and lives to the Lord.  Jesus Christ heard this man’s prayer; He brought new life to his son.  And He will do the same for us, when we fall before Him in honest repentance, knowing that our only hope is in the great mercy that He has always shown to sinners like you and me whose faith leaves a lot to be desired.

If we need a reminder of the importance of taking Confession this Lent, this gospel passage should help us.    Christ did not reject a father who was brutally honest about his imperfect faith, but instead responded to his confession with abundant grace, healing, and love.  He will do the same for each of us who stand before His icon with the humble plea for forgiveness, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.”  There is no better way to prepare to follow our Savior to the agony of the cross and the joy of the empty tomb.         

           

Adoration of the Holy Cross: Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent in the Orthodox Church

Hebrews 4:14-5:6
Mark 8:34-9:1

             In any kind of difficult challenge, it’s always inspiring to know that you are half way to the end.  It might be a race, a school year, or a project at work; if you’ve made it this far, you know that you can eventually reach your goal.

            We are now half way through the season of Lent, and the Church calls our attention today to the great symbol of victory, the great sign of hope, our Lord’s cross.  During the time of Jesus Christ’s earthly ministry, of course, no one was inspired by the cross, for it was a feared instrument of execution.  No one honored the cross and certainly no one thought that God’s Messiah would die on one. 

            So it was profoundly shocking when the Savior told His disciples that He would be rejected, suffer, die, and rise again.  When St. Peter tried to correct Him, Christ called him “Satan” and said that he was thinking in human terms, not God’s.  Then the Lord told the disciples what they didn’t want to hear.  They too must take up their crosses and lose their lives; that’s the way to enter into the blessed salvation of the Kingdom of Heaven.

            The hard truth that Jesus Christ broke to His disciples was that we can’t jump ahead to the joy of the empty tomb.  We must first go with our Lord to the cross; we too must die in order to rise again. And the unpopular truth is that every last one of us needs to die to our sinfulness, to how we have distorted ourselves, our relationships, and our world.  The Son of God offered Himself in free obedience to the Holy Trinity, taking upon Himself the full consequences of sin and death to the point of a horrible execution; He did so out of love for us.   And thus He opened the way to the Kingdom of heaven, to life eternal, for you, me, and all humankind; indeed, for the entire creation.   

            And that way is the cross, for if we want to share in the joy of His resurrection, of His victory over death, we must first participate in the struggle, pain, and sacrifice of crucifixion.  We must crucify the habits of thought, word, and deed that lead us to worship and serve ourselves instead of God and neighbor.  We must kill our pride, our selfishness, and our slavery to pleasure.         If we don’t crucify these passions, our souls will be too sick, dark, and weak to share in the glory of the resurrection.  Like St. Peter, we will think in human terms, not God’s, no matter how religious or moral we appear to others.   

            And the reality is that we have no shortage of opportunities to take up our crosses.  When we struggle to resist a temptation, when we battle angry thoughts against those who have wronged or somehow irritated us, and when we endure deep sorrows and disappointments with trust in God’s faithfulness and mercy, we take up the cross. 

            Fortunately, we do not go to the cross alone.  No matter what we are tempted to think at times, our Savior is no stranger to temptation, suffering, pain, and death. He sympathizes with our struggles because He endured them.  He was literally nailed to a cross, died, was buried, and descended into Hades in order to bring the joy of life eternal to corrupt, weak, imperfect people like you and me through His glorious third-day resurrection.  And in order to follow Him to the joy of Pascha, we must likewise take up our cross.

            So as we begin the second half of Lent, let us keep our eyes on the prize, looking to the great trophy of our Savior’s victory over sin and death, the cross, through which joy has come into all the world.  And even though it is a struggle and none of us does it particularly well, let us put aside our own preferences and obsessions in order to take up the cross through prayer, fasting, forgiveness, mending broken relationships, and showing generosity to those in need.   Let us offer our lives in free obedience to the Father, accepting whatever pain and struggle there may be in setting things right in our lives as best we can.  And no matter what burdens we may bear, no matter our frustrations and failures, let us press on the joy of Pascha.  Jesus Christ participated in death in order to bring us into His life, and we must participate in His death in order to share in the glory of His resurrection.  So let us deny ourselves, take up our crosses, and follow Him.  For this alone is the way to the brilliant light and eternal blessedness of the Kingdom of God.

Dr. Paul Meyendorff Speaks at Abilene Christian University and St. Luke Orthodox Church, Abilene

Abilene, Texas: Dr. Meyendorff Speaks on the Sacraments of Eucharist and Confession

21–24 March 2013 • Off–Campus

The Fr. Alexander Schmemann Professor of Liturgical Theology at St. Vladimir's Seminary Dr. Paul Meyendorff traveled to Abilene, TX recently to offer one of the main addresses at an academic colloquy on "Eucharist and Ecclesiology" at Abilene Christian University. The conference, held in honor of Abilene's professor of Church History, Emeritus, Dr. Everett Ferguson, featured three keynote speakers. At the opening plenary session, Dr. Meyendorff presented a paper entitled "Church and Eucharist in the Orthodox Tradition." The colloquy brought together forty scholars and graduate students from the Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and Church of Christ traditions.Dr. Meyendorff speaks at a 2012 conference in honor of his father, Protopresbyter John Meyendorff

One of the other Orthodox participants, SVOTS Board of Trustees Corporate Secretary The Rev. Dr. Philip LeMasters, presented a paper on "Eastern Orthodox Social Ethics in the Anaphora of St. Basil the Great" in one of the study groups. Father Philip is professor of Religion, director of the Honors Program, and dean of the School of Social Sciences and Religion at McMurry University in Abilene, and in 2011 he presented the keynote address for St. Vladimir's annual Education Day.

Fr. Philip LeMastersFollowing the conference, Dr. Meyendorff led a parish retreat on the theme of the Sacrament of Confession at St. Luke Orthodox Christian Church in Abilene (Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America), where Fr. Philip serves as the rector. Noted Fr. Philip, "Professor Meyendorff unfolded for us the historical development of the practice of confession, and then responded to questions from parishioners during a lively discussion time. Those who attended learned a great deal and were most appreciative for the spiritual encouragement provided by his presentation, coming as it did at the beginning of Great Lent." 

St. Gregory Palamas and the Healing of our Paralysis: Homily for the Second Sunday of Great Lent in the Orthodox Church

Hebrews 1:10-2:3

Mark 2:1-12

            Think for a moment how you would feel if you went to the doctor with a serious health problem and were simply told medical facts about your condition and that you were an interesting case.  You would probably not be happy at all because you go to a physician to be healed, not simply to learn truths that in and of themselves do not restore you to health.

            On this second Sunday of Great Lent, we remember a great saint who knew that our salvation is not in mere ideas about God, but in true participation in His life by grace.  St. Gregory Palamas lived in the 14^th century in the Byzantine Empire.  A monastic, a bishop, and a scholar, he defended the experience of hesychast monks who in the stillness of deep prayer beheld the divine light of the uncreated energies of God.  In ways that go beyond rational understanding, they saw the divine glory as they participated in the life of God by grace. 

            Against those rationalists who said that such a thing was impossible, St. Gregory insisted that we know the Lord by being united with Him in prayer and holiness.  Jesus Christ has joined humanity and divinity and dwells in our hearts by the power of the Holy Spirit.  We truly become partakers of the divine nature when we know by experience the presence of God in our lives.  

            That is precisely what happened to the paralyzed man in today’s gospel lesson.  The Lord did not simply convey ideas to Him, but instead shared His divine energies by restoring him to health, both spiritually and physically.  At the root of all human corruption is our sin, which weakens and sickens us all, and the Savior showed His divinity by forgiving the man’s sins.  Christ then enabled the man to rise up and walk as evidence that He has the authority to forgive sins as the Son of God.

            This healing also shows what it means to be infused with the gracious divine energies, for the paralyzed man experienced freedom from bondage and a miraculous transformation of every dimension of his life.  He did not simply hear words or receive a diagnosis, for the Lord healed him inwardly and outwardly.

            This miracle speaks to us all, of course, because we are sinners paralyzed by our own actions and those of others.  We have made ourselves so sick and weak that we do not have the strength to eradicate the presence of evil in our lives.  Just think for a moment of how easily we fall into words, thoughts, and deeds that we know are not holy.  Our habitual sins have become second nature to us; left to our own resources we are no more able to make them go away than a paralyzed man is to get up and walk. 

            The good news is that Jesus Christ comes to every single one of us with forgiveness and healing.  Too often, we are willing only to ask for forgiveness, but not to rise, take up our beds, and walk.  In other words, we fail to see that being infused with the gracious divine energies is not a matter of simply being excused from paying a penalty or declared not guilty; instead, it is truly a calling to become who we are created to be in God’s image and likeness.  It is to be healed from all the ravages of sin and to shine with the light of holiness as we participate by grace in the life of the Holy Trinity.

            No, we do not have to become monks and nuns in order to do that.  But we do need to do everything that we can to open ourselves to the healing energies of God.  When we pray, fast, give to the needy, and practice forgiveness and reconciliation, or any other act of truth faithfulness or repentance, we do so in cooperation with the Holy Spirit, alive and active in us.   Even the smallest bits of “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” that we experience are the fruits of the Spirit’s presence.  (Gal. 5:22)  We should cherish them as such and do what we can to help them grow and become characteristic of our lives and personalities. 

            The truth is that if we want to know Christ’s healing and strength, we have to obey His commandments, for He calls us all to get up and move forward in a holy life.  In order to do that, we have to welcome and cooperate with our Lord’s mercy.  Think again of going to the doctor yourself.  We’re glad to hear that there’s a cure for our ailments, but that knowledge will do us no good unless we participate in the treatment.  We have to take our medicine and do our therapy if we want to benefit personally. 

            How sad it would have been for the formerly paralyzed man to have disobeyed the Lord’s command and simply stayed in bed.  How sad that we so often do precisely that in our refusal to cooperate with Christ’s healing and mercy by obeying Him.  As we continue our Lenten journey, let’s remember that in every aspect of the Christian life we experience the gracious divine energies of the Lord.  The Son of God has joined Himself to every dimension of our human existence and the Holy Spirit dwells in our hearts.  We do not have mere signs and symbols of salvation, but God Himself.  The only limits to His presence, power, and healing in our lives are those that we keep in place.  This Lent, let’s leave our sick beds behind and do all that we can to participate more fully in the healing mercy that the Savior brings to each and every one of us.  That’s the best way to prepare to behold the glory of His resurrection.         

              

            

        

Why Orthodox Young People Fall Away: A Prophetic Word from Fr. Steven Salaris

Concerning the 60%

March 1, 2009Leave a Comment

Fr. Steven C. Salaris, MDiv, PhD

Source: Orthodoxy Today
By Fr. Steven C. Salaris
Last year, I attended a clergy gathering where we had several “workshops” discussing the importance of Orthodox Christian Fellowship (OCF), ministry to college students, and what I call “The 60%.” This term derives from a recent study revealing that 60% of college students never return to church after college. This sad data applies to Orthodox Christians, too. When discussing this with others, my scientific brain (I’m a former biology professor) wanted data to back up the claim. I wanted to identify the reasons why our youth leave. Bad idea! I felt like a McCain supporter at an Obama rally! No one wanted to discuss the issues. It was easier to lament about the symptoms than to address the cause(s) head on. There was also a lot of finger-pointing at those workshops; however, when you point a finger at someone, three fingers point back at you!
So why do 60% of our college youth leave Orthodoxy? This is a difficult question to answer. It requires some serious scientific investigation. In the discussion that follows, I have implemented the scientific method of which I am so familiar. After spending time making observations and asking some tough questions, I have come up with several hypotheses. Some will apply specifically to our Orthodox Church, others will apply to Christian churches in general. Most of the hypotheses are corollaries to the warning God gave in Exodus, “I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments” (20:5b-6). (We would do well preaching about that verse more!). Another hypothesis is related to how we educate our youth. Here are my hypotheses.

Hypothesis 1: Linguistic and cultural ghettos that masquerade as “Churches” are contributing to “The 60%”

Orthodoxy has been in America for over 200 years. Yet too often our parishes live with the notion that the Church’s primary function is to be an ethnic preservation society. Far too many people go to church not to encounter Christ, the Son of the living God, but to talk in or listen to foreign languages and eat ethnic foods. Why do we attempt to spiritually raise our children in an atmosphere of dead liturgical languages and the equally dead cultures from which they came? Gee, Toto, we’re not in Byzantium (or Tsarist Russia) anymore!
Be honest, we worship in dead liturgical languages that laity, chanters, priests, and bishops do not understand. Our insistence on using these languages is like keeping a body alive on a ventilator long after brain death has occurred. Nonetheless, we continue to offer incense to the idol of “spiritual language” while not gaining a substantive understanding from what we hear. Sure, sending our children to Arabic/Greek/Russian school might make grandma happy, but they will still be unable to understand the liturgical languages they hear in Church.
Even when we do use English, many Orthodox Churches speak in what I call “liturgical ebonics” – an old variant of Shakespearian English that uses “Thee, Thy, Thou, Thine” pronouns and archaic verb tenses. Imagine the relief our youth feel attending a non-Orthodox church service that uses proper modern English. Dost thou not get it that this silly talk edifieth not our children! Sts. Cyril and Methodius understood using the language of the people! The evangelists to the Alaskan Native American people understood it. Why don’t we?

Hypothesis 2: Enmity in our churches is contributing to “The 60%”

“Enmity” is a word that means “positive, active, and mutual hatred or ill will.” Churches are full of it! – including the Orthodox. It would be great if we hated evil, sin, and the devil; instead we hate each other. Jesus tells us that we are to love one another as he has loved us. Too often we fail. When we fail we are hypocrites. How can Johnny learn about Christian love when mom has not spoken to “that person” in the parish for fifteen years? Yes, mom says, Jesus teaches that we have to love our neighbor as ourselves and that we must forgive seventy times seven, but how dare “that person” change grandmother’s baklava recipe at the Church festival! Years ago, I stood in a food line at a Greek festival and watched two men of that parish cursing and yelling at each other while nearly coming to fisticuffs. Great witness for the Gospel, huh? Add to this parish splits, gossip, back-biting, the way personality disordered parishioners treat the priest, vituperative general assembly meetings, etc., is it any wonder that our youth flee once they are free?

Hypothesis 3: Lack of stewardship is contributing to “The 60%”

We don’t regard the Church as the pearl of great price or a treasure buried in a field. Instead we treat the Church like a street beggar. In many of our parishes, clergy and stewardship committees hold out their hands hoping (and begging) that parish families will pay their “minimum dues.” Why must I hear of parishes with hundreds of families that by mid-year don’t have enough money to pay the electric bill or the priest’s salary? Why must I hear about priests and their families who are expected to live in substandard housing, send their children to substandard schools, drive junk cars, and depend on food stamps? This is scandalous! Even worse, this is oftentimes expected by parishioners who are quite generous to themselves. Why do churches depend on endless fundraisers and festivals for income? The answer to these questions is simple: Too many parishioners do not value the Church. Once the message that the Church is valueless is internalized by our youth (don’t be fooled, it is internalized), they will eventually turn their back on the Church. Our children will seek something of more enduring value as determined by family and society. Isn’t that frightening?! We must pass on to our children, by our example, the principle that the Church is worth the stewardship of our time and talents above all else.

Hypothesis 4: Failed models of Christian education are contributing to “The 60%”

With all due respect to those that have worked so hard in Christian education, it is time we admit that our Protestant-derived models of Christian education have failed. Like us, the Catholics and Protestants also have their own 60%. If the current model for Christian education doesn’t work for them, it will not work for us. Christian youth come out of years of Sunday school and still don’t know the basics of their own faith. I know of students educated in Catholic schools that think the Holy Trinity is Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I know Orthodox Christians who think that the Holy Trinity is God, Jesus, and Mary. An organic living knowledge and internalization of the Orthodox Christian faith cannot happen in 45 minutes on a Sunday by cutting and coloring paper doll clergy and iconostases. There was no Sunday School in the early Church and yet families – parents and children – were martyred together bearing witness to the Christian faith (read the life of the early second-century martyrs Sophia and her three children…if you dare). Perhaps a radical re-thinking and new approach to Christian education needs to be developed by those who specialize in the field.

Hypothesis 5: The lack of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ is contributing to “The 60%”

The Church is like a fig tree with lots of leaves. The leaves are things we get passionate and obsessive about – icons, facial hair (on men), chanting, vestments, ethnic nationalism, calendars, choirs, rants about ecumenists and liberal deconstructionists, spirituality, pseudo-spirituality, and all the rest of the fodder that one can find on “Orthodox” blog sites. However, if the tree doesn’t bear fruit then it is doomed to whither. I am going to be bold and identify the “first fruits” of the Church as a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Some people might think that sounds a bit “Protestant,” but in fact it is entirely Orthodox. Our relationship with Jesus Christ is so deep, intimate, and personal, that He feeds us with this very own Body and Blood in the Eucharist (beginning for many of us when we are babies). That “first fruit,” that intense personal relationship with Christ, should then yield the fruits of repentance and spiritual growth in the lives of every Orthodox Christian. If we are unable to bear these “first fruits,” our youth and our Churches will wither.
What is next? In the scientific method, after making observations, asking questions, and developing a hypothesis comes experimentation where the hypothesis is rigorously tested. In this short article, I have only gone as far as formulating some hypotheses concerning “the 60%.” To go any further will require specialists in the Church to do the experiments and analyze the data. When all this is done, the conclusions will either support or reject the hypotheses. If, however, the appropriate studies do support the hypotheses, how will the Church respond – with action or apathy? The Lord says, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Repentance starts with self-examination – I am calling for the Church to do just that here and now. If it is determined that something is wrong, then true repentance requires a change. If we respond with apathy, then the 60% phenomenon will continue and our sins will continue to be visited upon our children generation after generation until the Church is no more. If we respond with proper action and change based on love, prayer, grace, self-sacrifice, and joy, then Christ and His Church – the very kingdom of heaven – will be a seed planted in the good soil of our children’s hearts and souls that will grow and bear fruit one thousand-fold until “the 60%” is no more.
Fr. Steven C. Salaris, M.Div., Ph.D. is the pastor of All Saints of North America Antiochian Orthodox Christian Mission in Maryland Heights, Missouri.
Originally posted on March 1, 2009.
http://ocl.org/concerning-the-60/?utm_content=plemasters%40mcm.edu&utm_source=VerticalResponse&utm_medium=Email&utm_term=Read%20his%20analysis&utm_campaign=%7EOrthodox%20Church%E2%80%99s%20Mission%20in%20N%2E%20America%20Faces%20Hurdles%7Econtent

Rod Dreher on Lenten Fasting in the Orthodox Church

Quieting the Body’s Clamor

Rod Dreher, a senior editor of The American Conservative, is the author of the forthcoming memoir “The Little Way of Ruthie Leming.”

MARCH 28, 2013

While most American Christians are celebrating Easter, we Eastern Orthodox believers will just be getting into our Lenten rhythms. Please, brothers and sisters, be kind; as you feast on ham, we are struggling through a strict vegan diet. Orthodox Lenten fasting is hardcore.

Hardcore, and hard – but it’s a good kind of hard, and not only because you inevitably reach the end of the fast feeling physically better. The Orthodox fast makes you realize how much of a slave you are to bodily passions, and the effect that has on one’s spiritual and moral awareness.

It compels a mindfulness about eating that escapes many of us in the everyday. Lent always reminds me how impulsively (and therefore unhealthily) I eat, and how rarely I deny my appetite for food or anything else.

The Orthodox fast makes you realize how much of a slave to the bodily passions you are.

More importantly, it makes me conscious of my privilege. During Lent, I grinch because I can’t have a hamburger. Then I think about how most of the world survives on much less than I have. Lent always makes plain the distance between what one wants and what one needs -- and not only when it comes to food. This is why Orthodoxy also insists on Lenten almsgiving.

Many Christians forget that Lenten fasting is not about pious dieting. Without charity and change of heart, fasting is in vain. After all, say the Orthodox fathers, even the demons do without food.

Done in the right spirit, Lent is a powerful means to heal damage inflicted by daily life in our wealthy, narcissistic, anti-ascetical culture. Orthodox fasting in particular is an exhausting discipline, but it is a merciful yoke. By the time you reach its Paschal end – O tofu, where is thy sting? – you wonder how such a burden could have left you feeling so strangely light.

http://www.nytimes.com/roomfordebate/2013/03/28/what-is-the-purpose-of-lent-2/lent-can-quiet-the-bodys-clamor