East of Byzantium

“How captive are we, we fallen children, to the pleasures and passions that rule our lives. How we treasure the chains which imprison us, bestowing upon them garlands and wreathes, adorning them as friends. We sit bound by our desires, a lamentable state, yet we rejoice, for our eyes are shut fast; and as in a dream we see our confinement as freedom, our chains as wings.”
-Anonymous

Today (Jan 16th ) is the feast day for the Venerable Chains of the Holy Apostle St. Peter (Acts 12:1-12). It is taught that after this miraculous event, the chains that had held the Apostle Peter were taken away by pious Christians and venerated, being a source of healing to many.

This is Orthodoxy, and the Orthodox teaching of God’s work in the world. The chains that bound Peter, chains that are a symbol of oppression and captivity are – by the power of God – transformed into objects of healing and sources of grace. God transforms the world by using the world, slowly drawing all of His creation back towards Him.

While we “garland” our own chains, pretending they’re something else, God actually changes, transforms, and transfigures all manner of things. The chains that were a source of veneration for hundreds of years after Peter’s martyrdom never stopped being the chains that imprisoned Peter in Judea. Yet through the power and grace of God, they became more than just shackles; they became something that is remembered even to this day, 1966 years later.

The gap between this post and the last on this blog might indicate that I’ve been busy worshipping the chains that bind me over the past couple of months. It shouldn’t, because this blog is surely nothing more than a vanity project and not bothering with it might be a good thing for my own soul. But unfortunately it is true that the demons that surround me have been rather bored of late through lack of anything to do. So, in that respect, my return here is probably a good thing.

Prayer for the feast:
Without leaving Rome, thou didst come to us by the precious chains which thou didst wear. O foremost of the Apostles. And worshipping them with faith, we pray: By thine intercessions with God, grant us great mercy.

http://www.youtube.com/v/YkhrBcB7W0w&rel=1

How long does it take to say fourteen words?

Iubite-voi Domme,virtutea mea. Domnul este intarirea mea si scaparea mea si izbavitorul meu.

This is the Romanian for the opening of Psalm 18, sung just before the Nicene Creed during the Divine Lirturgy:

I love You, Lord, my strength; the Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer.

The video is two minutes long, and not one syllable is rushed over, nor frittered away. Some things are worth saying right.

A brief digression from both Church calender and even the theme of this blog (such as it has one) to tell this “tale that is not a tale”:

Listen to a tale which is not just a tale but a true account of John the apostle, handed down and carefully remembered. When the tyrant was dead, and John had moved from Patmos to Ephesus, he used to go when asked to the neighboring districts of the Gentile peoples, sometimes to appoint bishops, sometimes to organize whole churches, sometimes to ordain one person of those pointed out by the Spirit. So it happened that he arrived at a city not far off, named by some as Smyrna, and after settling various problems of the brethren, he finally looked at the bishop already appointed, and indicating a youngster he had noticed of excellent physique, attractive appearance, and ardent spirit, he said: “I leave this young an in your keeping, with all earnestness, in the presence of the Church and Christ as my witness.” When the Bishop accepted him and promised everything, John addressed the same appeal and adjuration a second time.

He then returned to Ephesus, and the cleric took home the youngster entrusted to his care, brought him up, kept him in his company, looked after him, and finally gave him the grace of baptism. After this he relaxed his constant care and watchfulness, having put on him the seal of the Lord as the perfect protection. But the youngster snatched at freedom to soon and was led sadly astray by others of his own age who were idle, dissolute, and evil-livers. First they led him on by expensive entertainments; then they took him with them when they went out at night to commit robbery; then they urged him to take part in even greater crimes. Little by little he fell into their ways; and like a hard-mouthed powerful horse he dashed off the straight road, and taking the bit between his teeth rushed down the precipice more violently because of his immense vitality. Completely renouncing God’s salvation, he was no longer satisfied with petty offences, but, as his life was already in ruins, he decided to commit a major crime and share the same fate as the others. He took these same young renegades and formed them into a gang of bandits of which his was the master mind, surpassing them all in violence, cruelty, and bloodthirstiness.

Time went by and, some necessity having arisen, John was asked to pay another visit. When he had dealt with the business for which he had come, he said: “Come now, bishop, pay me back the deposit which Christ and I left in your keeping, in the presence of the Church over which you preside as my witness.” At first the bishop was taken aback, thinking he was being dunned for money he had never received. He could neither comply with a demand for what he did not possess, nor refuse to comply with John’s request. But when John said: “It is the young man I am asking for, and the soul of our brother,” the old man sighed deeply and shed a tear.

“He is dead.”

“How did he die?”

“He is dead to God: he turned out wicked and profligate, in short, a bandit; and now, instead of the Church, he has taken to the mountain with an armed gang of men like himself.”

The Apostle rent his garment, groaned aloud, and beat his head. “A fine guardian,” he cried, “I left of our brother’s soul! However, let me have a horse immediately, and someone to show me the way.” He galloped off from the church, then and there, just as he was. When he arrived at the place, and was seized by the bandits’ sentry-group, he made no attempt to escape or ask for mercy, but shouted: “This is what I have come for: take me to your leader.” For the time being the young man waited, armed as he was; but as John approached he recognized him, and filled with shame, he turned to flee. But John ran after him as hard as he could, forgetting his years and calling out: “Why do you run away from me child – from your own father, unarmed and very old? Be sorry for me, child, not afraid of me. You still have hopes of life. I will account to Christ for you. If needs be, I will gladly suffer your death, as the Lord suffered for us; to save you I will give my own life. Stop! Believe! Christ sent me.”

When he heard this, the young man stopped and stood with his eyes on the ground; then he threw down his weapons; then he trembled and began to weep bitterly. When the old man came up he flung his arms around him, pleading for himself with groans as best he could, and baptized a second time with his tears, but keeping his right hand out of sight. But John solemnly pledged that he had found pardon from him from the Savior: he prayed, knelt down, and kissed that very hand as being cleansed by his repentance. Then he brought him back to the church, interceded for him with many prayers, shared with him in the ordeal of continuous fasting, brought his mind under control with all the enchanting power of his words, and did not leave him, we are told, till he had restored him to the Church, giving a perfect example of true repentance and a perfect proof of regeneration, the trophy of a visible resurrection.

-from The Rich Man Who Finds Salvation – Clement of Alexandria (c. 2nd century)

When Blessed Polycarp paid a visit to Rome in Anicetus’ time, though they had minor differences [on the day on which Easter should be celebrated], they at once made peace, having no desire to quarrel on this point.

Anicetus could not persuade Polycarp not [to break the Lentern fast on the same day as the Jewish Passover], since he had always done so with John the disciple of our Lord and the other Apostles with whom he had been familiar. Nor did Polycarp persuade Anicetus to keep [the Jewish Passover]: Anicetus said he must stick to [celebrating Easter on the Sunday, the day of the resurrection], the practice of the presbyters before him. Though the position was such, they remained in communion with each other, and in church Anicetus made way for Polycarp to celebrate the Eucharist [on the 14 Nisan] – out of respect, obviously.

They parted company in peace, and the whole Church was at peace, both those who kept the day and those who did not.

-Letter from Irenaeus to Pope Victor (2nd Century AD)

I would just like to post the above in response to my previous post on some Chinese Christians celebrating Jewish festivals. I doubt they have direct Apostolic sucession back to the Apostle John, but nevertheless eireine if they wish to do this. The Christians in China, in terms of practicing their faith, have far worse problems.

Memory eternal for the servant of God Protopresbyter Elias Wen who has fallen asleep in the Lord at 2:30PM PDT on Saturday, June 9, 2007 at age of 110 years old.

Fr Elias became rector of the Cathedral of the Most-Holy Mother of God "Surety of Sinners", Shanghai, serving as a member of the clergy under the Archbishop, and my patron saint, St John the Wonderworker.

Please pray for the repose of Fr Elias’ soul.

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Nineveh, 721 B.C.

The people in the marketplace look away as the two men approach. The younger man, the son, walks ahead pointing the way but then slows up as they both approach the body slumped with his face against the wall. The father approaches his fallen kinsman quickly, as though perhaps there is still hope, but bows his head in sadness as he sees the purpling bruises upon his neck. The father stoops and takes the mans head, delicately closing mouth and eyes and whispering:

"Give rest, O Lord, to the souls of Your servants, where there is no pain, no sorrow, no grieving, but life everlasting."

Turning to his son he says, "pick him up."

Both father and son labour under the weight of the fallen man as they leave the market place, the people parting in waves so as not to touch the dead man.

"Will this man Tobit never learn," they mutter. "Once before he was hunted down for execution because of this very thing: burying Israelites, the enemies of the king, so that he could not take satisfaction at their murder. And now after escaping, he is here doing the very same thing!"

But Tobit gripped harder the clothes of his kinsman and with his son returned home. They laid out the body in one of the rooms, once again Tobit whispering his prayers for the man:

"As we celebrate the memory of Thy Prophets, O Lord, through them we beseech Thee to save our souls."

Tbilisi, Georgia. May 1953

The central square was teaming with demonstrators, coming to hear the words of their leaders. In front of them stood the speakers rostrum, on the steps of the Executive Committee building, where the government officials would deliever their propaganda to the people.

Flanking the speaker’s platform were the full figure portraits of the Party leaders, hanging two storeys high upon the front of the building. At the peak of the demonstration, while a government member delivered his speech to the packed square, the portrait of Stalin suddenly burst into flames. Lenin’s portrait burned too, immediately engulfed in flames from head to toe. Horror came over the square, they all froze and from fear and everything became still.

While the pictures of the leaders were in flames, Fr. Gabriel - a young hieromonk - appeared in the second-floor window and gave a sermon:

"The Lord said, ‘Thou shalt not make unto thee idols, or any graven images… Thou shalt not bow down before them nor serve them for I am the Lord your God, Thou shalt have no other Gods! People, come to your senses! The Georgians have always been Christians! So why are you bowing down before Idols? Jesus Christ died and rose again… But your cast idols will never be resurrected. Even during their life they were dead…"

It is impossible to imagine… How could they let him utter another phrase!? But Fr. Gabriel did say more. The doors of the Executive Committee building had been locked and barricaded; he had entered the attic earlier, with enough kerosene to burn those idols, and sat there until the demonstration had began. They brought him down, it is true, quick enough: they brought in some fire engines and raised ladders…

And just like the prophet Jeremiah, stoned by his own people in 583 B.C., when Fr. Gabriel came down the crowd fell upon him. Like the Holy Prophet, the censure of Fr. Gabriel could not be tolerated by the people as they kicked him, hit him with rifle butts, and flailed him with hoses.

"O blessed Jeremias, being chosen of God from thy mother’s womb, in thy compassion, thou sorely didst mourn for the falling away of Israel. And in Egypt, O Prophet, thou wast murdered by stoning for thy most just rebukes by them that understood not to cry with thee: Alleluia."

But Fr. Gabriel did not die that day; the firemen dragged him away. Already looking like a corpse, with fractured skull and seventeen broken bones, the authorities looked to heal this man so they could put on a show trial. However, Fr. Gabriel would not respond to the treatment, almost dead but never dieing, and as weeks dragged into months the zeal of the authorities dimmed.

Whether it was because of embarrasment or because of the Khrushchev amnesties, Fr. Gabriel was eventually released and declared a lunatic, he and his mother being given a meagre State pension to live on. The people of Tbilisi would not speak to the mad hieromonk, too scared of the man who had burned Stalin. At first he wondered among the villages and was hired to guard vineyards or attend to the fire in Churches. Then his mother became paralyzed from all the trauma and he could no longer go anywhere. For several years he could be found sitting at the portico of some Church with an outstretched hand. Only the people who did not know him would give him anything—his acquaintances turned away from him or derided him.

+ Dedicated to Monk Gabriel, and all other living martyrs, on this day the 1st of May, feast day of Jeremiah the Prophet. +