Some terrific points are made in this article, making it very worth your time! Enjoy!

Textual Criticism is a discipline that has gained much popularity over the last one hundred years or so, especially as related to the so-called “Bible” of the Christian faith.

While this discipline has arguably been around since at least the late middle ages, there has seemingly been a distinct emphasis (among particular scholars, notably “liberal” Protestants) placed upon the Christian scriptures in recent decades.

I believe this concern and their approach is motivated by a number of factors — none of which are compatible with nor do they find their home within traditional, orthodox and catholic Christianity.

It has been said that

“the business of textual criticism is to produce a text as close as possible to the original.”

Given this raw and simplistic definition, we can make a few observations regarding this discipline within the context of the holy scriptures. And, as a point of emphasis, the existence and usage of the Septuagint (LXX hereafter) by Christ and the apostles (and the Orthodox, catholic Church) sheds both important and transformative light on this entire enterprise. Of the latter, I will make a few brief remarks and notes as well.

With that in mind, I firmly believe that textual criticism assumes and is dependent upon a few key, overarching concepts.

1. The humanist principle of ad fontes. Ad fontes was a philosophical tenet of Renaissance humanism that literally translates from the Latin as “to the fountains,” meaning “to the sources” (or more pointedly, “to the original source”). Inspired by the rediscovery of ancient, classical Greek works of philosophy and literature (due to the emigration of Greeks from the east after the fall of Constantinople to the Muslims in AD 1453), this principle dictated within the context of the Latin (“Western”) Church that Christians should return to their “original source” in order to purify and reform the Church from perceived corruptions over the centuries. In the reformation-era context (thanks to the likes of the rebellious Latin monk, Dr. Martin Luther), this meant holding “the Bible” or the holy scriptures to be the “source” of the Church, rather than the actual and true reality in which the Church arranged and put together the scriptures as part of Her sacred tradition. It was an erroneous move, based on profound ignorance, and one that has cost the West dearly over the last 500 years (and schism upon schism). Going one step further, this principle also inspired the idea among Luther and his followers that the original text of the scriptures are only pure in their original manuscripts. For the old testament, this meant adhering to the Hebrew text. Unfortunately for Luther, this required using a medieval text (the Masoretic) that was over a thousand years more recent than the Greek translation (the LXX) or even the Latin (originally based on the LXX), which were already in use by the Church. Not only was Luther incorrect in assuming that the Bible was the source of the Church, but also in that the Hebrew text available to him was more accurate or “closer to the source” than the Greek or Latin (for the old testament, specifically)
2. A theology or scholarly viewpoint that discounts and places no faith in the Church or Tradition. While catholic and orthodox Christians are faithful to confess weekly “I believe in one holy, catholic and apostolic Church,” such faith is absent among textual critics. This is required, in fact, due to the utter disregard for the preservation of the scriptures within the Church (for example, within liturgical texts and the writings of the Church fathers). While Orthodox Christians, for example, believe that the Church is guided and preserved by the Holy Spirit and the very presence of Christ in the apostles and their successors (Who promised He would never leave us, and that the Gates of Hades would never prevail against said Church), adherents of textual criticism cannot, by principle, believe in such a thing. The essential dogma of textual criticism is that the text has been corrupted (i.e. mistakes have crept in through copying errors or intentional alterations by monks, scribes, etc.). This is the party line that Bart Ehrman and others espouse, but such a viewpoint (criticism) only holds water within a Protestant context.
3. Closely related to the last point, a belief that the Bible is the “Christian Koran.” Again, the “corruption of scripture” dogma of Ehrman and other liberal Protestant scholars only makes sense within a Protestant context, and through having a Protestant understanding of “the Bible.” According to Protestants (mostly regardless of which sect or stripe), the Bible is the only true/special revelation of God to humanity. As such, they are a “people of the book,” just as in Islam. However, orthodox and catholic Christians are not bound by such constraints and therefore many of the “concerns” of textual criticism are irrelevant to us. For example, we do not of necessity claim that the scriptures are “inerrant” — that is, without mistakes or errors of some kind (this is distinct from “infallibility,” by the way, which we hold to). Given that concession, the fact that a monk or copyist might have replaced the pronoun “they” with the more descriptive “the Gentiles” (in order to make the chanted word more clear in the liturgical setting it was always found) does not reveal a “corruption” of the text or some conspiracy regarding the “original autographs,” but rather the Spirit-guided common sense of a monk. Variant readings do not de-rail the faith of the Church, as might be cautiously hinted at within conservative, fundamentalist Protestant circles, nor do mistakes with regards to dates, names, places or other such things, to be perfectly honest. The scriptures are a great source of revelation, but they are not the only source of revelation (nor are they the “Word of God,” as such).
4. And this leads to the final concept, and that is the fact that textual criticism relies upon a Nestorian Christology (and by deduction, Iconoclasm). Textual criticism precludes the possibility of accurate and/or faithful translation of a text, due to the fact that it is believed this “corrupts” and “changes” the text in an irreversible and irreparable manner. Because of this (and related to the “inerrancy” remarks above), conservative Protestants will only claim that the “original autographs” in their “original languages” are truly “inspired” by God. This means that the English version of the Bible that everyone in their groups carry around are not actually the inspired “Word of God” (as they would put it), but rather a “best effort” translation of the actual Word of God. Word studies (in the “original” languages) become imminently important for Protestants, as a result, since a translation couldn’t hope to give us the same, exact meaning (or at least, an “inspired” meaning) of the text. While there’s certainly nothing wrong with learning and studying the original languages of these ancient texts, it is not absolutely required in order to read and understand the text of scripture, as inspired by God. Rather, the interpretation of the Church is what’s missing. That said, this is Nestorian in the sense that it divides the translated words from their original, Divine source (rather than seeing the translation as Iconic or symbolic — in the classical, Greek sense — of the original words). To preclude the authenticity of translation is to preclude the authenticity of the Incarnation (and in fact, many Protestants will claim that Christ took on a human nature that was slightly different than ours, which is through-and-through Nestorian). Just as Icons are true symbols of the Saints they represent (and truly connect us with these Saints in eternity), words and translations are true symbols of the original words, ideas and people found in the ancient text. The scriptures are not the ”Word of God,” but rather an Icon of the Logos of God — Jesus Christ.

And so, building upon that last point, we can consider briefly the LXX — the Greek translation of the old testament scriptures done between the third and first centuries BC in Egypt.

The Orthodox Church considers the LXX to be the inspired scriptures of the Old Testament, even in light of the fact that they are translations. This is, no doubt, primarily due to their authority and usage among Second Temple Jews, Jesus Christ (during his Advent ministry, as recorded in the Gospels), the original apostles and their immediate successors (the “early” Church fathers). When the new testament scriptures are considered, for example, there are 320 direct quotations from the Old Testament within the new. Of these, only five verses appear to be sourced from a text that is at odds with or different from the LXX (in those verses). At the very least, we could say the NT writers showed a strong preference for the LXX translation of the OT; that only seems fair. Beyond this point, however, there is much debate.

While there is little fanfare over the reality of the NT writers’ usage (and preference of) the LXX, they also many times show a “looseness” with the text of the OT that would make most present day Protestant exegetes cringe. There are many times where verses are quoted in part, “out of context,” dissected and combined with other verses (in different texts altogether) as well as paraphrased.

There are instances where the NT writer was using a version of the OT that closely resembles the medieval Masoretic Text (perhaps four such instances, exclusively speaking, in the entire NT), but this almost seems random and isolated. In those instances, it seems the MT was chosen in order to best make (or support) the point at hand. What we don’t find, however, is a definitive belief in a single, original, authentic text. The behavior of the apostles — and the NT writers specifically — shows a more “fluid” approach to both the idea of “canon” and “original text.”

When the Dead Sea Scrolls (the manuscripts found near Qumran in the 1940?s and beyond, hereafter DSS) are considered alongside the LXX, things become even more interesting (and problematic for proponents of textual criticism). There are numerous instances, for example, where the LXX and DSS align exactly in reading (throughout the OT scriptures), while also disagreeing with the medieval MT. For example, Genesis 1.9 reads

“And the water which was under the heaven was collected into its gatherings, and the dry land appeared”

in both the DSS (4QGenk) and LXX, but this passage is entirely missing from the MT. On the other hand, there are many verses or readings that make the DSS and MT to be in total agreement, while showing the LXX reading to be at odds with both (often with minor results, such as a change in exact grammar or phrasing, but not “meaning”).

So what does this mean? What this means is that there was not a single, authoritative, “original” text of the old testament scriptures, even in the first century AD (and perhaps even in the late centuries BC, when the LXX was translated and compiled). As such, the “ad fontes” and reductionistic approach of textual criticism is found entirely wanting and useless in light of such realities. The LXX does not show us that the Greek translation was based upon the only version of the Hebrew scriptures, but that it was based upon a very popular one. Furthermore, it shows that it is not necessary for the preservation, existence or propagation of the Faith to have a single, authoritative text of the scriptures.

Finally, there is somewhat of an unspoken belief among Protestant scholars that “Hebrew” was a “sacred language” to the Judeans during the time of Christ and before. In other words, the scriptures (especially the “original autographs”) would have only been written in the Hebrew language, due to its so-to-speak “Divine” quality. What we find with the DSS, however, is that even the most strict and “hardcore” of Jewish sects (the Essenes, presumably) was perfectly content with recording and transmitting sacred texts (including the scriptures) in multiple language, as the DSS were found in Greek, Aramaic and “modern” (for their time) Hebrew renditions.

At the end of the day, textual criticism is an enterprise devoid of the Holy Spirit. The one holy, catholic and apostolic Church — and the sacred tradition of the Church — are both guided and preserved by “the Helper” and “Spirit of Truth.” We are not bound and required to have a single, authentic, original manuscript of the scriptures in order to constitute and make sense of our Faith, for our Faith is Personal and our Truth is found in Christ Himself, Who is Truth.

The irony of all of this is that neither Protestants nor textual critics have been able to produce or demonstrate a single example of this all-important “original autograph” of “the Bible” at any point in the history of either textual criticism or Protestantism (and no, “Q” doesn’t count). For one’s entire Faith to hinge upon something that is — at this point in time, a myth — seems a bit much for me. I will rather seek to hold fast to the traditions that have been delivered to us once for all in the apostolic Church that Christ established nearly 2,000 years ago.

© 2012, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.

A month ago, once again, I traveled to the Annual Festival of Young Preachers, hosted by Dwight Moody’s Academy of Preaching, and once again, it was a wonderful experience to behold and participate in. There were three young preachers again this year; Jason Ketz (SVS Student), Gabriel Alimeyahu (Hellenic College), and Benjamin Peck (Hellenic College). I want to congratulate them on their excellent work, and thank the many other preachers and mentors who were so supportive, encouraging and downright gregarious. Fr. Serge Halvorsen, Homiletics professor at St. Vladimir Seminary said it best:

Good preaching is contagious.

It is, and this is without a doubt, the best possible environment to begin a lifetime of preaching the Gospel. Here is a quick synopsis of the 2012 Festival experience by Benjamin Peck. His sermon is included below.

by Benjamin Peck

In early January of this year, 2012, I had the incredible opportunity to attend the held in Louisville, Kentucky. While there I gave a sermon entitled “Speak My Name” on the subject of the Sermon on the Mount which was very well received and thanks to a friend is, as well as Orthodoxy Today.

While I had attended the festival in the year 2011, and had a very powerful spiritual experience then, my time in Kentucky was no different this year. I made friends, contacts and became spiritually and emotionally enveloped in my surroundings; seeing all these different portrayals of Christianity brought joy to my heart and soul and I found that many of these people, while various forms of Protestant denomination, were very Orthodox in their minds and ideology.

Many of the sermons captivated what it truly means to not just be any Christian, but an Orthodox Christian, whether they know it or would believe it or not.

Last year, being new to the scene, I was very nervous about being in a place where I would be one of three Orthodox Christians. Luckily, I met men like Larry Crudup and Andrè Waller; two very experienced preachers with minds and hearts for the Word of God as well as incredibly supportive and validating. When I came back this year they were just as happy to see me as I was them.

My experience, both times, at the Festival could be described only as a Trial by Fire, because nothing else even comes close to the amount of spiritual intensity I not only witnessed, but was enamored by. I thoroughly want to encourage any and all upcoming preachers, priests and even speech givers to attend this festival, or one at least like it. You will make nothing but friends here.

Speak My Name

By Benjamin Peck

Oh Heavenly King, the comforter, the spirit of Truth, who art everywhere and fillest all things. Treasury of blessings, and giver of life; come and abide in us, cleanse us of every impurity and save our souls, oh Good One. Glory to God in the Highest, and on Earth, peace, goodwill towards men. Oh Lord, open Thou my lips that my mouth may show forth Thy praise.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen. Glory to Jesus Christ.

My brothers, my sisters… my fellow sinners. It is important to note just that; we are all sinners. Sinners among brothers and as such we are called to do but one thing to one another; forgive. The Lord God said

“If you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins,”

in Matthew 6:15. To forgive is an act of love, a loving act of forgiveness is an act of meekness, and as we know from the Sermon on the Mount to be meek is to inherit the Earth. But what do we really know about being meek?  To be meek is to not respond harshly, in anger, agitation, irritant or even in sarcasm to those around us. It is to be utterly calm, peaceful; loving to one another. I tell you now when I was in High School I made the conscious effort that I was going to go an entire day of being meek, I wanted to try it and see if I could achieve such love. Do you know happened? Not even three hours into that day, and I failed out of habit. Habit struck me down and caused me to respond harshly and sarcastically to someone I barely even knew. Isn’t that sad? So sad is it our society has so much habit on not loving. I couldn’t even make it three hours being loving and calm, let alone an entire day.

Love and forgiveness are two of the hardest things we will ever accomplish and be called to do as men and women of God. I find this humorous because when our friends struggle offenses made against them, we say to them

“is it really so hard to forgive and forget?”

And that’s a really stupid question, we know darn well how hard it is to move on and forgive, because it is so much easier and justifiable to our society to stew in our hatred, boil our rage and let our grudges bubble and brew. The other amusing thing is when we say to one another “loving is easy! It’s not so hard to love,” which is also not true. Love is patient, love is sometimes kind, but it sure as heck isn’t easy! It’s easy to love those who love you back; your mother, father, brother, sister, dog, cat, goldfish, turtle they all return the love you give them. But Christ said in Matthew 5:43-47 ~

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?”

How often do we follow this command? How often do we truly love our enemies, do we even think about it?

Let me give you some examples, brethren; the terrorists from 9/11, we’re supposed to love and pray for them. If a man murders his wife, his children, his friend, your friend or my friend; we have to love, forgive and pray for him. That awkward relative nobody wants to admit they have, we have to love and pray for them. Do not mistake me, brothers and sisters we are not called to love them for what they’ve done, we are called to love them because, like us, they are children of God. You may or may not be fathers or mothers, and I certainly am not, but I know that when I am a father, despite what sins my child may commit, despite what atrocities they may do, even if I am the victim of their crimes I will still love them. They are my children; a father can’t not love his child, and just as I cannot unlove my children, God does not stop loving his children. Christ said

“Forgive them, Father; they know not what they do.”

And these fellow children who have fallen from God’s grace know not what they do.

God’s grace is given unto us freely, but our forgiveness, our penance is conditional. We are not saved the moment we believe, we do not get a meal ticket to Heaven. A few months ago I met a man who said

“I am righteous, I have been baptised since I was nine and now I cannot sin.”

I asked him if he meant that if he sins he’ll go to Hell, he responded

“no I literally cannot sin. Nothing I do is sinful. I am saved, I am righteous.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at such ignorance, such arrogance, such harmful pride. Righteousness is something we all strive, thirst and starve for, but it is not so easily attained. Believe me! I wish that when I was baptized at the age of three nothing I did since then was a sin. Lying to my parents about cleaning my room, fighting both physically and verbally with my brothers, and if you have siblings you know what I mean. Or, as an adolescent teenager, looking at someone in a way I knew I shouldn’t have been looking. It’d be nice if none of those, or anything else I’d done, wasn’t a sin; that’d just be swell. But the problem is it doesn’t work like that, I still sin when I don’t love.

Loving is difficult, it takes practice and perseverance to love everyone around us, especially our enemies. It is even harder nowadays, considering that the world hates us. The world wants us to go away, wants to ignore us, it wants to pretend we never existed in the first place, in fact it makes consistent efforts to ignore us and cover us up. On December 22nd a Ugandan Bishop had acid thrown on his face and poured down his back, just for preaching love and forgiveness. There was no news coverage, save a small news website. CNN didn’t touch it, Fox didn’t touch it, they ignored it, they tried to ignore us. December 25th, there were three bombings in Nigeria, on Catholic churches during their Christmas mass, for honor kills. No news coverage, no story. No care.

And yet we must find a way to forgive them for these atrocities, and so if nothing else baptism raises the bar for us and calls us to be that much stronger, do that much more in our daily lives and make our lives that much harder because we know the reward that awaits us in Heaven. I do not condone the actions of those terrorists but let me assure you every man, woman and child who died is sitting on a throne in Heaven at the foot of God because they died in prayer, and they died in faith. This is important to note, my friends, that when we get into the enemy’s head with our talk of love and compassion, when they know we’re right and the only response they can think of is to kill us off, we’ve won. This is our victory! The world doesn’t like being confronted, it doesn’t like it when we win. They don’t like it when we won’t go away.

St. Maximus the Confessor, when arguing with fellow Christians, would not stop preaching the Gospel, preaching the Orthodox Church, and beating them in theological discussions, they cut out his tongue and cut off his right hand. This way he could not longer write or speak the word of the Gospel. Thats good preaching! St. John the Baptist, they had enough! They were tired of hearing about the Messiah, about the Christ, about God so they cut off his head. Good preaching! My patron saint, St. Benjamin the Deacon, in 424 A.D. was martyred. They initially captured and tortured him for preaching the Gospel. They later released him saying

“Don’t do that anymore!”

So what did he do? He preached louder, he preached harder, he preached more until they captured him again, stuck barbed wire under his toenails and finger nails, and left him to bleed to death. I have a lot to live up to, and I certainly hope that is never my fate, but you know what? That is great preaching!

It gives me no pleasure to say this, brothers and sisters, but the day is coming, possibly even in our lifetimes, where Christianity is openly persecuted in America. Let me assure you, this is a victory, for the Lord our God says

“Blessed are you when men shall revile and persecute you for my sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad; for great is your reward in Heaven!”

And blessed will we be. On that day it will be our duty as Christians, as soldiers of God’s mercy, to stand with stalwart hearts and unflinching convictions even as the faithless come to hunt and attempt to remove us, but we must stand our ground.

So when the heretics come to make that list, brethren; speak my name.

© 2012, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.

by St. John Chrysostom

From Homily 58 on The Gospel of John.

“If a man should come here with earnestness – even though he does not read the Scriptures at home – and if he pays attention to what is said here, within the space of even one year he will be able to  obtain  a  considerable  acquaintance  with  them. For we do not read these Scriptures today, and tomorrow others that are quite different, but always the same section and consecutively. However, in spite of this, many have such an apathetic attitude that after such reading they do not even know the names of the books. And they are not ashamed, nor do they shudder with dread, because they have come so carelessly to the hearing of the word of God. On the other hand, if a musician, or a dancer, or anyone else connected with the theater should summon them to the city, they all hurry eagerly, and thank the one who invited them, and spend an entire half-day with their attention fixed on the performer exclusively. Yet when God addresses us through the prophets and apostles, we yawn, we are bored, we become drowsy.”

© 2011, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.

Keep reading down to the PDF deal!

A venerable text on the formation of preachers, called (not surprisingly) “On The Formation Of Preachers” is now available through Preachers Institute.

This is a considerable text, loaded with Scriptural and Patristic quotes on the work, art, craft and science of preaching and the personal formation of those who preach. It was written by Humbert of Romans, the fifth master general of the Order of Preachers (Dominicans). Though Humbert was a post-Schism preacher in the west, his method and his understanding of the preacher and preaching is right in line with “On The Priesthood” by St. John Chrysostom, and “The Pastoral Rule” by St. Gregory the Great.

This is an exceptional text, and should be required reading for any Orthodox preacher or priest.

This paperback book is available through my publisher’s bookstore. If you are buying it as a gift use the coupon code: RUSH to get free ground shipping for Christmas.

The paperback version is $23.99. 

You can purchase the paperback version by going here:

However, as a thank you to PI regulars, starting today, you can buy the Ebook for $6.99.

CLICK THE “ADD TO CART” BUTTON BELOW!

The paperback version is 205 pages, black and white, perfect bound and 6″ by 9″ in size.  Again, thank you for your support. Preachers Institute is about to undergo some major upgrades and changes in the coming weeks, and as you know, this is our only venue of support.

© 2011, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.

This excellent article by Fr Lawrence has complete harmony with the Orthodox Tradition and is quite a distant thing from what is often passing for ‘Biblical Studies’ today – within the Orthodox Church today and without. We’ll be bringing you more along these lines shortly.

The much needed ‘return to the Fathers’, Fr. Alexander Schmemann said,

“means, above all, the recovery of their spirit, of the secret inspiration which made them true witnesses of the Church”

(quoted in Liturgy and Tradition, p. 84f).

That is, what is needed is a return to the mind-set, the inner attitude and spiritual world-view of the Fathers.

This return to the Fathers is nowhere needed more than in a return to their view and veneration of the Divine Scriptures. The Church is now suffering from a low and deficient view of the Scriptures, one gained from the liberal world of western Academia, one which feels itself free to dissent from the received meaning and interpretation of the Scriptures in favor of more modern and politically-correct views.

In the writing of ostensibly Orthodox authors, in casual conversations with some clergy, in letters to the editor in our Orthodox journals, one can often find evidence of this alienation from the attitude of the Fathers. In one article, supporting references to the Scriptures are pilloried as “biblical literalism”, in another, Pauline use of the Old Testament is discounted as “rabbinic exegesis”, in yet another, one is warned against “the hazards of appealing too quickly to patristic testimony”. Anyone who is a convert from liberal Protestantism can easily identify the common disease which produced all the above citations: a low view of the Scriptures in which they are praised as sources and authorities but ultimately discounted as products of their age rather than as living oracles of Truth.

When one steeps oneself in the literature of the Fathers, one is aware of entering a different world, of breathing a different air. For the Fathers, the Scriptures spoke with the voice of God and an apt citation of a Scriptural text (read and interpreted, of course, through the Tradition of the Church) was seen as bringing all godly controversy to an end. This was not “proof-texting” (which involves the use of Scripture separated from Holy Tradition). Rather, it was an awareness of Scripture as a locus and carrier of that Holy Tradition and therefore as a reliable arbiter in all Christian disputes.

A casual reading of the Fathers will confirm that this was their approach. Consider the words of St. Clement of Rome:

“You well know that nothing unjust or fraudulent is written in the Scriptures”.

Or the words of St. Irenaeus:

“the Scriptures of certainly perfect, since they were spoken by the Word of God and by His Spirit”.

Or the words of St. Hippolytus:

“those who not believe that the Holy Scriptures were spoken by the Holy Spirit…are unbelievers”.

Or Origen:

“With complete and utter precision the Holy Spirit supplied the very words of Scripture through His subordinate authors…according to which the wisdom of God pervades every divinely-inspired writing, reach out to each single letter”.

The Fathers did not adhere to a view of dictation, which would reduce the human authors of Scripture to merely passive conduits of the Divine Word. They knew full well that these were human documents, subject to the normal human variants of style and didactic purpose. Nonetheless, they were also very aware that these same human documents were vehicles for the Spirit of God, containing, as Divine Oracles, God’s timeless and transcendent Truth, and thus not subject to error.

According to the Fathers, how should we read the Scriptures today? I would point out two components of an Orthodox and patristic approach to the Divine Scriptures.

We should read the Scriptures in the Church. That is, we should interpret the Scriptures guided by our Holy Tradition as preserved in the interpretations of the Fathers. As Origen expresses it,

“That alone is to be believed as the truth which is in no way at variance with ecclesiastical and apostolic Tradition”.

This does not mean a rejection of all the fruit of modern commentary and criticism. It does mean a selective use of such modern work. The plumb-line of Tradition is to be hung against new work: only such as is consistent with Tradition is be accepted.

We should read the Scriptures on our knees. That is, we should come to the Scriptures as humble learners to be taught, not as judges to teach and correct. Humility is the pre-condition for everything in the Christian life, especially in our reading of the Scriptures. In this as in all things,

“God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6).

We are often exhorted to be diligent in reading the Scriptures. This is a valuable exhortation—but one that must be supplemented with another: read the Scriptures as the Fathers read them. We must open our Bibles as opening the oracles of God—reading, as it were, over the shoulders of the Fathers.

Only then can we gain true and eternal benefit for our souls.

Source: Milk & Honey Blog

© 2011, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.

by Fr. Patrick Henry Reardon

One of the major ideas—and perhaps the culminating idea—in the second chapter of Ephesians is the unity of gentiles with Jews to form a single people for God. These two, formerly estranged, have been united, Paul says, through the blood of Christ:

“He himself is our peace, who has made both one, and has broken down the middle wall of separation . . . that He might reconcile them both to God in one body through the cross, thereby putting to death the enmity. And he came and preached peace to you who were afar off and to those who were near” (2:14-17).

When Paul describes when Paul speaks of Jews and non-Jews outside outside of Christ, however, he concedes little advantage to the Jew over the non-Jew. The opening verses of Ephesians may serve as an example. First, Paul tells the gentiles,

“And you [He brought to life], who were dead in trespasses and sins, in which you once walked . . .”

Next, using the first person plural, he speaks of the Jews:

“and we all once conducted ourselves in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of thoughts, and were by nature children of wrath, just as the others” (2:1-3).

Here, the emphasis on “and you” and “and we” is not mine; it is dictated in the word order of the Greek text. Both you and we, says Paul, are in very bad shape, apart from what God has wrought for both of us in Christ.

Although the Jews enjoyed the blessings of the Torah, the covenant, and the divine oracles, the Apostle argues, their moral failures are just as serious as those of the gentiles. They both live

“according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience.”

We recognize here a thesis Paul already argued in the Epistle to the Romans: Because both are descendents of fallen Adam, neither Jew nor gentile may boast, inasmuch as

“all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).

Paul’s evidence of the moral failure of the gentiles is enumerated in his distressing catalogue of social evils in Romans 1:18-32. It is noteworthy, however, that he provides no equivalent list of sins on the part of the Jews. For the latter he appeals only to the testimony of his own conscience. Paul, himself, is the sinful Jews. This idea is found in both Romans and Ephesians.

So what, exactly, were Paul’s moral failures? In what consisted those fleshly passions operative in his life prior to his encounter with the risen Jesus?

Luke, his fellow missionary, portrays them vividly:

“Then Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked letters from him to the synagogues of Damascus, so that if he found any who were of the Way, whether men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem” (Acts 9:1-2).

What Luke calls

“breathing threats and murder”

corresponds very closely to what Paul describes as

“fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of thoughts.”

Prior to meeting Jesus on the way to Damascus, the future Apostle, who imagined himself a righteous man, was very much in the grip of

“the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience.”

That is to say, if the moral life of the Jews was no better than that of the gentiles, it was because Paul knew himself to represent what was worst in the Jews.

In his own life, Paul knew it was the Torah that had aggravated his corrupt spiritual condition. His zeal had led him to offend God. His passion on behalf of the Torah was a carnal passion, as his own biography bore witness:

“I am indeed a Jew . . . taught according to the strictness of our fathers’ law, and was zealous toward God as you all are today. I persecuted this Way to the death, binding and delivering into prisons both men and women” (Acts 22:3-4).

Of the Torah Paul asks,

“Did that which is good, then, become death to me?”

And he answers,

“Certainly not! But sin, that it might be shown to be sin, was producing death in me through what is good, so that sin through the commandment might become exceedingly sinful” (Romans 7:13-14).

The Torah, which is most certainly good, became for Paul the occasion of his worst sins. Not only had the observance of the Torah been unable to justify Paul; it also became the instrument of his greater fall.

“Sin, taking occasion by the commandment, deceived and thereby killed me” (7:11).

In particular, Paul’s very pursuit of the Torah led him, in his sinfulness, to participate in the conspiracy to murder Stephan. Praying in the Temple, in a sate of trance, he told the Lord,

“‘Lord, they know that in every synagogue I imprisoned and beat those who believe on You. And when the blood of Your martyr Stephen was shed, I also was standing by, consenting, and guarding the clothes of those who killed him” (Acts 22:19-20).

The Torah’s inability to confer justification was not a theory Paul dreamed up. He knew it from experience- from the testimony of conscience. A bitter memory was to salt that conscience for the rest of Paul’s life:

“I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and an insolent man”

(1 Timothy 1:13; cf. Acts 26:9-11; 1 Corinthians 15:9).

© 2011, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.

By his incarnation Christ assumed human nature, and indeed human nature was united with the divine nature immutably, without confusion, inseparably, unchangeably and indivisibly. They are never separated. They remain united forever.

Thus the Church will exist also after the Second Coming of Christ and we shall be able to speak of the perfect manifestation of the Church. This is said from the point of view that the saints are already tasting the last things, because, as we said in the beginning, the last things in the Church are not isolated from the first and intermediate things. Living in the Church, we reach the state of Adam in Paradise before the fall, and we ascend still higher, because we attain communion and unity with Christ, united in His Divine-human Body, having become members of His Body.

The saints from now on are enjoying the glory of God, and therefore St. Symeon the New Theologian says that those who have been granted the vision of the uncreated Light are not waiting for the Second Coming, because they are already experiencing the Kingdom of God.

Besides, the Kingdom of God is not something created, nor is it an earthly reality, but, as St. Gregory Palamas teaches, participation in the Kingdom of God is identified and linked with the vision of the uncreated Light.

However, there will be a continuous perfecting of this participation in the glory of God. This is important, because if the future life is a stationary condition, then it will not have fullness. St. Gregory of Sinai says characteristically: “It is said that in the age to come, the Angels and saints ever increase in gifts of grace and never abate their longing for further blessings. No lapse or veering from virtue to vice takes place in that life”.

And St. Gregory Palamas, referring to this point, speaks of the continual development in deification, in man’s continual perfecting. Asking: “Do not the saints progress infinitely in the vision of God in the age to come?” He gives the answer himself:

“In everything it is clearly to infinity”.

Indeed he makes use of the case of the Angels who, according to the teaching of St. Dionysios the Areopagite, become increasingly receptive “to the clearest illumination”. God is infinite and therefore grants His grace abundantly and plentifully. St. Gregory Palamas asks:

“What way is left but for the sons of the age to come, to advance in this to infinity, admitted from grace to grace and patiently making the tireless ascent?”

This will be because, according to the same saint.

“the previous grace empowers them to partake of greater things”.

Of course, in saying these things, we must emphasize that it is not a matter of the restoration of all things, a teaching which was not adopted by the Church, but of the development and perfection of the saints, those who during their lives partook of the purifying, illuminating and deifying energy of God. For those men who did not participate even in the purifying grace of God, that is to say, did not enter the stage of repentance, this good development will not take effect. Furthermore, the passages which we mentioned speak of the saints who acquired the grace of God, and therefore in them the previous grace is empowering towards participation in greater things. Therefore the memorial services which the Church performs for those who have died also have this aim. They help the person in his perfecting, because, according to the teaching of the saints,

“this is the perfect unending perfection of the perfect ones”.

In this sense we can say that after the Second Coming of Christ we shall have a more complete manifestation of the glory of God. And it is in this perspective that we should interpret the teaching of the saints that now we have as a pledge a taste of the good things of the Kingdom of God.

© 2011, admin. All rights reserved.

But before I proceed to elaborate the subject of the “origin and revelation of the Church”, I would like us to take a look at the etymology of the word “Ekklesia“, because it will help us to understand better what is going to be said further on.

The word ‘Ekklesia‘ derives from the verb meaning ‘to call out’ ‘call’, ‘call together’, ‘gather together’. Thus ‘Church’ means a gathering of people, a congregation.

We can also find the word in this meaning in ancient Greece with reference, for example, to the ‘ekklesia‘ of a municipality, a gathering of the citizens to discuss various concerns which they had.

Also in holy Scripture, in both the Old and New Testaments, there is repeated reference to the ‘Ekklesia‘ as an assembly. The phrases ‘ekklesia of saints’, ‘ekklesia of laity’ etc. , are often used in the Old Testament. But in the New Testament we also have abundant use of the word with a deeper content, since through the incarnation of Christ the Church is not a gathering of people, but the Body of Christ. Thus it acquires a deeper meaning. I would like to cite a few examples.

Christ said to the Apostle Peter, who confessed His divinity:

“You are Peter, and on this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it” (Matt. 16″18).

The rock (‘petra‘) on which the Church is supported is the confession that Christ is the Son of God. The Apostle Paul repeatedly speaks of the Church as the Body of Christ. This passage from the letter to the Ephesians is characteristic:

“And He put all things under His feet, and gave Him to be head over all things to the Church, which is His Body, the fullness of Him Who fills all in all” (Eph. 1:22-23).

The members, the Christians who make up the membership of a concrete eucharistic community, are also characterised as the Church. The Church possesses the whole truth, because the whole revelation of God has been given to it. The Apostle Paul says:

“Church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth” (1 Tim. 3:15).

The word `Church’ is also used in these meanings in the teaching of the holy Fathers and in the Worship. According to St. Cyril of Jerusalem, it is called the Church

“because it calls forth and assembles together all men”.

And St. John Chrysostom says characteristically

“in the multitude of the faithful, the Church”.

On another subject I shall be developing further what the multitude of the faithful means. In any case I must call to mind here the teaching of St. John Chrysostom that the Church is not a wall and a roof, but living and life.

The Church is presented in many liturgical texts as a gathering, and especially as a eucharistic place, because the Eucharist is the deepest expression of the Church. I would like us to look at a characteristic passage from the Liturgy of the apostolic era as it has been preserved in the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles. At the end of the Eucharist when the Celebrant of the eucharistic gathering took the bread into his hands, he prayed:

“We thank Thee, our Father, for the life and knowledge which Thou gavest us through Thy Son Jesus”.

And then he spoke an amazing prayer

“Just as this fraction was scattered over the granaries and, gathered together, became one, so may Thy Church be gathered from the ends of the earth into thy kingdom”.

The bringing together of many grains of wheat and the preparation of the bread is an image pointing to the gathering of all the faithful into the Kingdom of God.

Among the expressions which are to be found in the liturgical texts and show exactly what the Church is, there is also the expression that the Church is “a holy people” or “communion of saints”. The people of God is not only the Clergy or only the laity, but the unity of Clergy, monks and laity, and this unity is in Christ. `In Christ’ means that members of the Church are all those who are united with Christ, all who are actually members of the Body of Christ through the sacramental and ascetic life, all who are baptised and confirmed in the faith, according to the teaching of St. Symeon the New Theologian.

This unity is shown clearly on the holy paten. In the middle there is the lamb of God, Christ Himself, on His right the portion of the Theotokos and on his left the portions of the saints, and in front the Bishop of the local Church with the living and those who lie asleep whom the priest mentions during the proskomidi. St. Symeon of Thessaloniki, speaking of the holy paten, says:

“God among gods who are deified by Him Who is God by nature”.

Christ is God by nature and the saints are deified by grace through Him Who is God by nature. The assembly of the faithful is expressed once more during the Sacrament of the divine Eucharist.

I shall not concern myself further with this point here, because the subject of who are the true members of the Church will concern us in other sections and other chapters.

© 2011, admin. All rights reserved.

Through the centuries there have appeared many heretical teachings which distorted the revealed truth, and which the holy Fathers confronted “with the sling stone of the Spirit”, that is to say, by the power of the Holy Spirit. And this is so because the holy Fathers were the bearers of the pure Tradition of the Church.

Among these heresies are those of Arianism, the Pneumatomachs who fought against the Spirit, the Nestorians, the Monophysites, the Monothelites, the Iconoclasts, etc. All these heresies refer chiefly to the Person of Christ, but also to that of the Holy Spirit, and of course they disturb the foundations of man’s salvation. For if Christ is not consubstantial with the Father, but is God’s first creature, and if the Holy Spirit is not true God, man’s salvation is put in doubt, the possibility of deification is cut off.

Later, during the fourteenth century yet another heresy appeared, which was expressed by Barlaam and based on rationalism. If Barlaam’s heretical teaching had prevailed, the method of the Orthodox way towards deification, which is hesychasm, would in fact have ended in agnosticism.

The question being asked is whether there are heresies today as well. The answer is not hard to find, because all of us are being made witnesses of the fact that there are indeed heretics now, descendants of the great heretics, and there are heretical teachings being expressed, perhaps not deliberately, by some who believe, among other things, that they are really members of the Church of Christ. And indeed all of us in our ignorance and lack of learning, may have some erroneous views about God and the way of salvation, but we must struggle never to become heresiarchs or descendants of the great heretics who have appeared in the history of the Church.

Besides, all the heretics were members of the Church for a time, even Clergy, and were active in it. The Apostle Paul’s prophecy applies here:

“Also from among yourselves men will rise up, speaking perverse things, to draw away the disciples after themselves” (Acts 20:30).

All the heresies distort ecclesiology as well. Since the Church is the Body of Christ, every alteration in the teaching about Christ, about the Holy Spirit, about the way to man’s salvation also has ecclesiological consequences.

It can be said that if there is a great heresy today, it is the so-called ecclesiological heresy. And this should be confronted by the Pastors of the Church. There is great confusion today about what the Church is and who are its true members. We confuse or identify the Church with other human Traditions, we think that the Church is fragmented and split up, and furthermore, we are ignorant of the Church’s way of salvation. Thus it is in confusion about this great theme.

In the chapters to follow we shall attempt to examine the subject of the Church from different angles, and we shall try to see what the holy Fathers say about the Church. I think that this will help us to acquire the genuine mind of the Orthodox Church, which is essential for our salvation.

© 2011, admin. All rights reserved.

A report given at the Liturgical Conference at the St. Sergius Theological Institute, Paris, on July 2, 1975

The aim of this report is not to examine in detail the historical evolution of the forms of Divine services, the origin of specific differences between Greeks and Russians, the significance of the different Typikons in this process, nor their mutual influences, etc.

I am not a liturgist and will not be doing this systematically. I will limit myself to several remarks and observations, more of a personal nature, about how the Liturgy and other services are celebrated in Greek churches on the one hand, and in Russian churches on the other. In speaking of churches that use Greek I am not forgetting that Athos did not adopt the 1838 reforms of Constantinople and remained faithful to the more ancient Typikons.

In this report, I am interested not only in one or another textual variant or a difference in the rubrics, but first of all in the significance and meaning, which the same words or the same liturgical actions might have in the consciousness of the faithful, how it can be reflected in their religious conduct, even if such differences are frequently based on misunderstandings. These “liturgical variations” can be found interesting for understanding and evaluation of these peculiarities of popular piety.

We will begin with some more or less ordinary observations in the differences in celebrating the Divine Liturgy. It must be noted that the biggest differences between the Greeks and the Russians in their celebrations are somewhat indirectly related to our topic since they occur in the so-called “secret” prayers, which are not discernable to the majority of the laity and thus have no direct influence upon their conduct. Nonetheless we will speak about them since these prayers constitute the more important part of the Liturgy and the clergy who pronounce them likewise make up a part of the People of God. Setting aside for the moment what precedes the Liturgy itself (Great Doxology for the Greeks, the Hours for the Russians, as well as the Proskomide), we will make note of a more substantial and characteristic difference in the Liturgy of the Catechumens.

Following the 1838 reform, the Greeks (except the Athonite monks who kept the old order) replaced Psalms 102/103 (“Bless the Lord, O my soul”) and 145/146 (“Praise the Lord, O my soul”) as well as the Beatitudes, which follow, by antiphons, i.e. brief appeals to the Theotokos or to Christ, Who is risen and is praised in His saints. The Russians continue to sing, each Sunday, the two noted psalms and the Beatitudes. They are replaced by antiphons only at great feasts or on weekdays. The dropping of the psalms and the Beatitudes has the advantage (if it can actually be considered the advantage) of shortening the Divine Liturgy. However, it pays to regretfully note that the Liturgy of the Catechumens thus loses its didactic and Biblical character, both Old and New Testamentary, which must be a part of it. The same can be said about the 1838 reform’s deletion of the prayers for the catechumens. It becomes unclear why the first part of the Liturgy continues to be called “Liturgy of the Catechumens.” We will note that the Athonite Greek monks continue to pray for the catechumens during Liturgy throughout the whole year.

Another feature, which we will note, occurs during the Liturgy of the Faithful, during the Cherubic Hymn. Here the differences in behavior become noticeable immediately. When the hymn begins, the Greeks have the habit of sitting down while the Russians love to kneel. Then, when the Great Entrance with the Holy Gifts begins, the Greeks stand and remain standing, bowing their heads, while the Russians rise from their knees and stand straight (but not all, some make a full prostration. These are those who think that the Holy Gifts have already been sanctified — a heresy condemned in Moscow in the 17th century). It can be said that for the Greeks, the entrance itself and the commemorations are more important while for the Russians it is the Cherubic Hymn.

Nothing in this practice, of course, is prescribed by the Russian Church. On the contrary, a lot has been done, especially in recent times, to explain to the faithful that it is not proper to kneel during the Cherubic Hymn, especially on Sundays, inasmuch as the Gifts have not been sanctified. Nonetheless all these efforts had little effect, so entrenched is the dangerous spiritual tradition, expressed by this practice, of making something “mystical” out of the Cherubic Hymn, the “profound center” of the Divine Liturgy, to the detriment of the Eucharistic Canon and the changing of the Holy Gifts. As for the Greeks, their practice may have an historical explanation since the Cherubic Hymn was introduced into the Liturgy very late, only in the 6th century, in Constantinople. Its primary intended purpose was to fill the silence resulting from the commemoration of the living and the dead at the table of oblation just prior to the Great Entrance. (Incidentally, the introduction of the Cherubic Hymn was subject to contemporary criticism as a strange innovation.) Thus, since the Cherubic Hymn is simply a “filler,” it is understandable that the Greeks listen to it while sitting, as is customary during similar moments.

The same can be said about one of the first phrases of the Eucharistic Canon. It is read differently, at least in our time, by the Greeks and the Russians: ‘Elaion eirhnhz, Qusian ainesewz, which means “Oil of peace, sacrifice of praise” (in Greek) and “Mercy of peace, sacrifice of praise” (in Russian). It is obvious that this is the result of orthographic confusion that occurred in Greek manuscripts between the two words, which in Byzantine Greek, although written differently, were pronounced identically (although with different endings: elaion - oil and eleos - mercy). Similar confusions, called “iotacisms,” occur very frequently. It is almost a certainty that the form elaion (oil) is the original and primary one, while eleos (mercy) is erroneous or more likely, a willful new introduction by a copyist who wanted to “enhance” the text. Here we see a classical example of the evolution of a literal Biblical text into a symbolic and a spiritualized one. This is the most unlikely case of a “reversed” evolution — from a simple to a complex. Russian copyists and liturgists preferred the spiritualized form (mercy and not oil) and adapted it to the Slavonic Liturgy. However, it would be a mistake to think that it is precisely the Slavonic copyists to whom the “honor” of such “enhancement” belongs. This first occurred among the Greeks, and the witness to this is that Nicholas Cabasilas is well aware of this in his “A Commentary on the Divine Liturgy” (14th century). Although he does not literally cite this passage but paraphrases it, his paraphrase shows that he reads it as “mercy” and not “oil.” This becomes more evident in the following passage:

“We offer mercy,” Cabasilas says, “to Him Who said: I will have mercy and not sacrifice… We also offer the sacrifice of praise” (P.G. 150, 396 AB).

It is important to note that among the Greeks, this “spiritualized” variant did not last; they remained faithful to the Biblical text while for Russians, the “mercy of peace” variant became one of the high points of the Liturgy for many people, and many great composers wrote settings for it, which increased its appeal for people who come to church to hear beautiful singing.

Another example of an expansion of a brief text, but in this case a purely theological one, was likewise motivated by the need to give the priest more time to read the first secret prayer of the Anaphora. The brief exclamation (by the cantor among the Greeks) “It is meet and right” (in response to the priest’s”Let us give thanks to the Lord”) is replaced in the Russian Liturgy by a longer phrase sung by the choir: “It is meet and right to worship the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit: the Trinity, one in essence, and undivided.” (As in the case of “mercy of peace,” the Russians adopted a variant already found in Greek manuscripts but not preserved in the liturgical tradition). The shortcoming of this theological dissemination can be seen in its lack of continuity since the choir’s response does not accurately follow the words of the celebrant (“Let us give thanks to the Lord” – “It is meet and right”) but is replaced by an instruction for venerating the Holy Trinity. But on the other hand, since there is no time for the celebrant to read the first Eucharistic Prayer during the brief response by the cantor, an outrageous practice arose among today’s Greeks. During a concelebration, the second priest interrupts the first celebrant (even if he is the bishop) who is unable to complete the secret prayer during the response of the cantor, with a loud exclamation: “Singing the triumphant hymn, shouting, proclaiming, and sayingþ” (All this to prevent pauses, which the Orthodox dislike.) Fortunately, the faithful who remain outside of the altar are unaware of any of this since the Eucharistic Prayers are read quietly.

The same can be said about all of the Eucharistic Prayers, but we will only speak of it briefly here. These are things, which are well known.

A uniqueness in the Eucharistic Canon of St. John Chrysostom among the Russians is in the insertion into the Epiklesis of the troparion to the Holy Spirit, taken from the Third Hour, which is relatively ancient, and which is supplemented by verses from the Psalm 50/51. It needs to be noted again that the authors of this interpolation were not Russians, since it can be found in some of the Greek liturgical manuscripts of the 11th century. However, it spread widely among the Russians and, in the minds of many celebrants, is perceived to be the Epiklesis. (Many priests when speaking of the Epiklesis, have in mind precisely this interpolation. Its significance is enhanced by the dramatic rendition of these words, often accompanied by raised hands and arms, while the deacon, reciting the verses from the Psalm 50/51, lowers himself on one knee.) There is nothing that corresponds to this in the Greek Liturgy. Without a doubt, this interpolation (which could be called “the Epiklesis within the Epiklesis”) adds a certain degree of individualism and piety to the priest’s spirituality, while it interrupts the sequence of the Eucharistic Canon. However, during the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, this is not done crudely, since the interpolation is placed between two phrases and not in the middle of one. It is entirely a different and a more serious problem in the Russian Church when we come to the Liturgy of St. Basil the Great. Here there is not just one but two different interpolations.

The first one, just as in the Chrysostom Liturgy (troparion to the Holy Spirit), but with a greater difference, since it interrupts the first phrase of the Canon in the middle, following the verb in infinitive form, the aorist of anadeixai – “to show.” Thus, after this lengthy interpolation, the celebrant is almost forced to turn back, if he wants to continue the train of thought. The artificiality of this interpolation is much more evident here than in the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, from which, incidentally, it was taken. (It has no substantiation in any of the Greek manuscripts of the Liturgy of St. Basil the Great.)

But of greater importance is the second interpolation, metabalwn tw Pheumati sou tw ‘Agiw –

“making the change by Thy Holy Spirit,”

which was inserted into the Slavonic text of the St. Basil’s Liturgy under the influence of the St. John Chrysostom text.

The least that can be said here, is the following:

1) This interpolation is an inadmissible grammatical error since the participle metabalon, in Greek, cannot follow the indefinite mood of anadeixai. In the Chrysostom Liturgy, it follows the imperative mood of metabalein (“make”). It would be proper to use another indefinite mood of metabalein (“and change”), but the interpolator preferred to slavishly follow the text that he copied.

2) This interpolation is redundant since St. Basil’s Anaphora already expressed the changing action of the Holy Spirit (calling upon Him) while in the Chrysostom Liturgy the petition is for His descent upon the Gifts, thus “changing” is added.

3) It creates a liturgical monstrosity of four blessings of the Eucharistic Gifts. In order to avoid this, contrary to all tradition, the third blessing is diminished (accompanied by the words “shed for the life of the world”).

All these distortions in the Russian celebration of St. Basil’s Liturgy rightfully generated criticism by Russian theologians.

Thus the noted church historian, Vasilii Bolotov [1854-1900], even wrote that one of the first tasks of a future council of the Russian Church would be to remove all these interpolations from St. Basil’s Liturgy, and first of all, the words

“changing them by Thy Holy Spirit.”

There have been several councils since that time, but unfortunately, nothing has been done. The reason appears to be clear: the fear of the Old Ritualists who would not hesitate to accuse the “Nikonian” Church of “innovations.” Another reason that can be added is the fear of the Russian Church of any liturgical changes, even those, which are perfectly justified. This is the conservative reflex on the part of the believers. Bearing in mind the unsuccessful liturgical reforms, which the Renovationists attempted to introduce into Russian Orthodoxy after the revolution, the least significant change in the services brings on the suspicion of a return to Renovationism. It can be said that the Renovationists with their revolutionary liturgical reforms have seriously impeded any attempted improvements in Russian Divine services for many decades. The pre-revolutionary order of Divine services became the sacrosanct ideal for the people.

Nonetheless, by the action of the Holy Spirit (which I firmly believe), two important new practices came into being in the liturgical life of the believers: a considerably more frequent reception of the Holy Gifts (when before the revolution people would normally receive Communion once a year) and congregational singing (and not by the choir alone as in the past) of the major parts of the Liturgy and other Divine services, particularly the Creed and the Our Father.

As for the Greeks, the Creed and the Our Father are read in various ways (but never sung) following an unquestionably more ancient tradition, when these were read by the non-celebrating bishops or priests or by respected older laymen. This commendable practice is often replaced in our time by another one, especially among Greeks living in the West. These prayers are read not by the oldest individuals present but by a boy or a girl, or are read together by the congregation (but are never sung). This practice has come from the West and is characteristic for ecumenical gatherings, but it is foreign in Orthodox Divine services.

Two differences could be noted in the Communion of the faithful among Greeks and Russians.

1) When the deacon comes through the Royal Doors with the chalice and calls the faithful to “draw near” — “in the fear of God and with faith,” today’s Greeks add “and love.” This is a beautiful addition, but it does not represent the ancient liturgical tradition, which, correctly reflecting the sacramental spiritual life of the Chrysostom liturgy, stresses the feeling of awe before the “great Mystery.” It can be noted with some certainty that the words “and love” were introduced in the 18th century on Athos by the advocates of frequent Communion, the representatives of the “Kollyvady” movement with the Venerable Nicodemus the Hagiorite at its head, and later accepted by the Constantinople Typikon of 1838. However, these words did not penetrate into Russia.

2) On the other hand, the Russian Church’s practice of having the laity kiss the Holy Cup after receiving Communion was not taken up by Greek popular piety. It views this as allowing the laity to do something that belongs exclusively to the clergy, namely, touching the sacred vessels.

We will note another innovation recently found among the Greeks under the influence of the “Zoe” movement: the clergy read the Anaphora prayers and consecrate the Holy Gifts while kneeling. This liturgical practice was subjected to sharp criticism by a number of theologians (among whom was Archpriest Georges Florovsky) for its anti-traditional character. On our part, we will limit ourselves to two comments:

1) The reading of the Anaphora while kneeling is contrary to the canons of the First Ecumenical Council, which categorically prohibits kneeling on Sundays, as well as between Easter and Pentecost and on other major feasts.

2) Celebrating the Anaphora while kneeling is physically difficult and inconvenient.

If the altar table is high, it is difficult to make the sign of the cross over the Holy Gifts, and there is a danger in spilling the chalice. If it is low, then it is difficult to perform other parts of the Liturgy while standing. However, the fact that this is inconvenient and difficult contradicts the real spirit of the Divine service wherein everything is harmonious. Likewise, the attempt to outdo the piety of the Fathers is pretentious. They did not feel that it was necessary or pleasing to God to celebrate the Eucharist while kneeling.

From a theological and catechetical point of view, however, the most serious departure in the liturgical practices of Greeks and Russians is not to be found in the Eucharist but in its preparatory part, the Proskomide. I will set aside the question of the number of prosphori to use, be it one, five or even seven as with the Old Ritualists. This is not a substantial question. What is more important is that the Greeks, among the nine ranks of saints commemorated while removing particles from the prosphora, place the commemoration of the Archangels Michael and Gabriel and all the bodiless heavenly powers that is, the angels, before that of St. John the Forerunner. The Russians, however, do not commemorate the angels at the Proskomide at all and begin immediately with St. John the Forerunner.

There is a serious theological problem behind these two differences in the liturgical practice: is the Redemption, the salvation through the Blood of Christ, His sacrifice on the Cross, related only to humanity, or does it include the angels, and does it have a cosmic significance? Is the Mystery of Christ’s Body and Blood, the Holy Eucharist, likewise intended for the angels who are bodiless? Finally, has the Fall of the human race been carried over to the angels, making them in need of redemption? These are the questions that arise from the commemoration of the angelic hosts. Some Russian theologians categorized this practice as heretical, but officially this question has not been touched upon by any of the Orthodox Churches. Historically, the list and the order of saints commemorated at the Liturgy have been established little by little. In some Greek manuscripts of the Byzantine era, the names of angels are included; in others they are not.

However, in contrast to what is noted above, it is the Greeks who adopted the expanded form that includes the angels while the Russians excluded them from their liturgical practice, perhaps on the basis of the teachings of faith. Having no aim to decide this problem here, from the theological point of view, I would nonetheless say that the Russian practice expresses a more anthropocentric understanding of salvation while the Greeks place an emphasis on its cosmic dimension. Here one can show a parallel in the difference which occurs in the Slavonic and Greek texts of the celebrant’s exclamation at Matins before the “Praises”: “For all the powers of heaven praise Thee and to Thee they send up gloryþ” as in the Greek text, while the Russians read “…and to Thee we send up glory: to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.”[1] As can be seen, the Slavonic text is more anthropocentric: it is not “the powers of heaven” but “we” who send up glory to the Holy Trinity.

+ + +

More could be said about the liturgical differences in other services (Vespers, Matins, Hours, etc.) between the Greeks and Russians but, in order not to expand our presentation too much, we will note that at least in parish practice the main difference is that the Greeks celebrate Vespers in the evening, on the eve of Sundays and feasts, and begin the next day with Matins and go into the Liturgy immediately following the Great Doxology, thus omitting the Hours. The Russians, however, celebrate what they call “The All-night Vigil,” i.e. Vespers and Matins combined, which is not a service that lasts all night. On the following day, the Liturgy is preceded by the Hours.

It must be said that either of these liturgical practices have their advantages and disadvantages. The Greek one is more natural and is closer to the Typikon, since evening services are performed in the evening and the morning ones in the morning and not the other way around as with the Russians. But because Vespers is relatively brief, very few people come to church in Greek-speaking parishes, on the basis of the Orthodox mindset: there is no sense to come to church for a brief service. The longer the service the more reason there is to attend it.

The Russian Vigil became a well-attended service even at the expense of the Liturgy, which is a matter of regret. The reason is a sentimental one: people like to pray in semidarkness, with the flickering of vigil lamps and candles. The Liturgy somehow tires people out with its spiritual intensiveness. It should be noted, however, that in recent times a reverse had taken place among the Russians living in the West. Under the influence of the heterodox environment, in which they live, and that false spirituality, which centers all piety to the Eucharist alone, they very rarely attend the Vigil and in this way deprive themselves of the spiritual and theological treasures that can be found in its hymnography.

We can also note with regret that today, except in the Mount Athos monasteries, the Psalter is read so infrequently. Thus, the reading and singing of Psalm 1 (“Blessed is the man…”), which makes up one of the solemn moments in the Russian Vigil, has been completely eliminated from the Greek Vespers in spite of it being called for in the ancient Typikons. The same can be said for the dropping of the Hours in Greek parishes except for Great Lent.

Great Lent occupies the same central place in the liturgical year both among Greeks and Russians. However, those moments, which express popular piety, or, as can be said, a spiritual emphasis, at times are expressed very differently in the two traditions. If we take the first six weeks of Lent (we will speak of Passion Week later), we can say that among the Russians, one of the more characteristic and vibrant expressions of spiritual life is the prayer

“O Lord and Master of my life…”

Every Russian, even the infrequent churchgoer, is familiar with this prayer. For him, it marks off the beginning and end of the Lenten period. It specifically singles out the services of Great Lent from the others throughout the liturgical year. Its great popularity and profound influence upon spiritual life can be seen from Pushkin’s poem

“Fathers of the desert and undefiled mothers…”[2]

This was the poet’s favorite prayer. He was deeply moved hearing the prayer being read by the priest in church. And yet Pushkin was not a particularly religious person. Thus, the Russian believer will be seriously surprised and perhaps even incredulous when he learns that the prayer is factually unknown to the majority of the Greek Church people and that it is not heard in Greek churches during Lent.

I must explain something to avert some misunderstanding. In fact this prayer exists in Greek service books just as in Russian ones. It is not omitted. It is well known to the clergy, but since, according to the ancient Typikons, it is to be read quietly, “secretly,” the laity have completely forgotten it except for the prostrations that accompany it, which are characteristic for Great Lent. The Greek practice of reading the prayer “secretly” is undoubtedly more ancient. All Typikons, including the Russian ones, prescribe this (see for example the existing Russian Typikon’s direction for the beginning of Great Lent: “We do this interiorly” or in other places, “mentally,” or “secretly,” the prayer of Ephraim the Syrian “O Lord and Master”).

The Russian practice of reading this prayer aloud is an innovation, introduced in the 15th or 16th centuries. Nonetheless, it remains in the people’s religious consciousness as one of the more beautiful Orthodox prayers, which, without this practice, could have become forgotten inasmuch as the “secret” or “mental” recitation of certain prayers could be spiritually profitable in monasteries, where the monks are well familiar with the Divine services, but in parishes, especially large ones, such a practice could lead to ignorance and to spiritual impoverishment.

Nothing like that could be said about the Great Canon of St. Andrew of Crete. It is very popular among the Russians, being one of those moments, which bring about an attitude of repentance during Great Lent. It passes by almost without notice with the Greeks. For them, a more popular and cherished and well-attended Lenten service (excluding Passion Week) is the Akathist to the Theotokos. The Greeks are not satisfied to have it only at Matins of the Fifth week, as all the ancient Typikons prescribe, but they have it more often, dividing it into four parts, during Compline of the first four weeks of Lent. Here one could find a more intense veneration of the Theotokos during the Lenten cycle had there not been other contradictory factors of which we will speak later. Paradoxically, prayers for Catechumens become a characteristic mark of Great Lent since, except for the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, the Greeks do not hear them during other times of the year.

It would seem that the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts would have one and the same meaning both for the Greeks and Russians. The people like that service and many do attend it, especially if it is celebrated in the evening, as it should be, although this “daring novelty” still meets up with strong objections and is not widely practiced, except among the Orthodox in the West. But even if there are no observable differences in the celebration of the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, which could impact upon the spiritual experience of the people, still there are some serious theological differences, although not officially formulated, which underline the actions and words of the celebrants behind the iconostas.

Here (to the great surprise of many lay people and even the clergy that do not even suspect it) arises the question: does the wine in the chalice, during the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, change into the Lord’s Precious Blood, as it does during the Liturgies of John Chrysostom and Basil the Great, or does it remain what it was, except that it was blessed and sanctified? The Russian Liturgy, since the time of Peter Mogila in any case, answers in the negative: the wine is not changed. This understanding is demonstrated by the fact that the celebrant partaking of the presanctified Body of Christ, which was intinctured with the Precious Blood sanctified at the Liturgy of Chrysostom or Basil the Great, drinks from the chalice without pronouncing those words, which he would when partaking during a “full” Liturgy. Furthermore, if he is celebrating without a deacon and would later consume the remaining Gifts by himself, he does not drink from the chalice. The deacon that would consume the remaining Gifts at the end of the Liturgy never drinks from the chalice even when he receives Communion. To drink from the chalice is viewed as an impediment towards consuming the remaining Gifts, as is explained in the

“Notes concerning certain procedures for the celebration of the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts,”

which go back to the time of Peter Mogila:

“If the priest is celebrating alone . . . he does not drink from the chalice until the end of the Liturgy.”

Even though the wine is sanctified by the placing of the particles (of the sacred Body), it is not transubstantiated into the Divine Blood, since the words of institution were not pronounced over it as occurs during the Liturgies of Ss. John Chrysostom and Basil the Great.” This same opinion is expressed in the Russian Church’s practice of not admitting infants to communion during the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts since, because of their age, they are unable to swallow a particle of the Body of Christ and the wine is not considered to have been changed into the Precious Blood.

The Greek practice, as indicated in the service books, although not too clearly, presumes what appears to be completely different theological beliefs. Concerning the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts it briefly states:

“The priest partakes . . . of the Sacred Gifts just as during the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom.”

Meaning that, as he drinks from the chalice he says:

“The precious and sacred Blood of our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ is given to me…”

Thus, what is in the chalice is considered to be Christ’s Blood. This is supported by the practice of drinking from the chalice three times, just as at the Liturgies of Chrysostom and Basil the Great, which would not have been of much significance if this was said just about wine and not the Sacred Blood. After all this the celebrant consumes the Sacred Gifts as during the usual Liturgies.

As for the theological explanations, we can find these in the Byzantine liturgists beginning with the 11th century: during the placement of the particle of the Body of Christ into the chalice the wine changes into the Precious Blood of the Lord through contact with His Body.

I will not express myself concerning this serious theological question. To form a decision about this difference (if indeed it exists, since one cannot make firm conclusions on the basis of different practices what concerns differences in belief) is beyond my competence since the Church, neither in Byzantium nor in Russia, adopted any conciliar decision on this account. I will only note that the explanation for the change of the wine into the Blood of Christ through contact with a particle of the Body appears strange to me and is unknown to the ancient Fathers. As for Peter Mogila’s “Note,” it is obviously inapplicable because of its Scholastic terminology (“transubstantiation”) and its non-Orthodox theology according to which, the Epiklesis is replaced by the words of institution during the sanctification of the Eucharistic Gifts.

The publishers of liturgical books in Russia understood this well: although they include Peter Mogila’s “Note” in the text, its more shocking segment, which we cited above in part, is shown in brackets. On the other hand, the theory of the change through contact carries with it a similar defect: it leaves no place for the Epiklesis. As for the Russian practice, it appears to be more correct but is contradictory in that it prescribes that the celebrant drink from the chalice three times (does it have any particular meaning if this is not the Blood of Christ?) And yet it is excessive in that it forbids him to drink if he is the sole celebrant.

+ + +

Holy Week, along with Pascha, is undoubtedly the summit of the whole liturgical year but both among the Russians and the Greeks, it has its own more impressionable moments in popular piety although these are not always the same ones.

Among the Greeks, the people especially like two services that attract large crowds of people: this is the Hymn of Cassia (“Lord, the woman having fallen into a multitude of sins…”) on the one hand and the solemn procession with the Burial Shroud in the evening of Holy Friday on the other. It can be said that for the ordinary Greek, these two services constitute the more important moments of the whole Passion Week. The hymn of the sinful woman is especially loved, and many lay people know it by memory and like to sing it. Newspapers write about it when describing the services of Passion Week. More or less the same can be said about the procession with the Shroud. It is not merely carried around the temple but the procession goes on for miles, escorted by thousands of the faithful holding lighted candles and singing the burial hymns.

Among the Russians this is done somewhat differently, not so much in the meaning of the services and hymns, which are almost identical, but in relation to their place in popular piety. Thus Cassia’s hymn, which among the Greeks occupies a central place, is likewise sung by the Russians but does not attract the same degree of attention on the part of the faithful, many of whom are even not familiar with it. It is simply one of the hymns of Passion Week, all of which are splendid. However, among the Russians, the Vigil of Great Friday (actually in the evening of Great Thursday) attains especially great significance. The so-called “Twelve Gospels” is one of the most beloved and best attended Passion Week services. The service of the “Twelve Gospels” is also very important for the Greeks but less so than for the Russians. But strange as it may seem, the pious attention of the faithful Greeks during it has as its focal point the bringing out of the cross with the singing of “Today He hangs on the wood of the crossþ” The Russians do not bring out the cross (this is considered a late innovation) and the text

“Today He hangs on the wood of the cross”

is sung but without placing any special emphasis on it in the course of the service. For the great majority of the Russian faithful the most cherished moment is the singing of the Hymn of Light, “The wise thief…” during which operatic soloists do not hesitate to take the opportunity to show off their voices. This is one of the examples of how a musical rendition can have an effect on the significance of a moment in the Divine service upon popular piety.

As for Great Friday, for the Russians, the most important service for that day is not the Burial of Christ (in the afternoon) as among the Greeks, although it is very moving and attracts many people (there are no lengthy processions), but the procession with the Burial Shroud in the evening. This attracts a great number of faithful and it has a greater meaning for the spiritual content of Passion Week.

The Liturgy of St Basil the Great on Great Saturday with the reading of fifteen Paremii — lessons from the Old Testament (reduced to three by the Greeks, except in Athos, in accordance with the 1838 Typikon) is not too well attended notwithstanding its theological riches and depth. The Russians introduced a liturgical novelty, which could be considered brilliant, truly one of the best that they introduced into the liturgical sphere and which gives an unforgettable dramatic moment during the Liturgy of Passion Saturday. In the course of the Liturgy, between the readings of the Epistle and the Gospel (both of which are already dedicated to the Resurrection), the dark vestments are changed into white while the choir is singing

“Arise, O God, Judge the earth: for to Thee belong all the nations!” [Psalm 82]

There is no doubt that this is not an ancient practice. Changing the vestments during the Great Saturday Liturgy is unknown among the Greeks who kept the old order according to which the clergy wear white vestments from the very beginning of the Liturgy. The reason for this is simple: in ancient times Great Saturday was the day of mass baptisms. These were done during the reading of the Paremii, and custom demanded that the celebrant be in white vestments while celebrating this Sacrament. Slavonic manuscripts of the 14th century show that in those times the Russians confirmed to the older practice and wore white vestments from the very beginning of the Great Saturday Liturgy. Apparently in the 15th or 16th century someone had a fortuitous idea: make the change of the vestments during the readings about the Resurrection. Everyone is aware of this dramatic moment during Great Saturday. It is very impressive even though it is often accompanied by great fuss and disorder. The Russian theologians embellished this act and saw in it the symbol of Christ’s descent into Hades, a prelude to the Resurrection, or a hint of the cosmic Resurrection. This change of vestments has become so ingrained into Russian liturgical life that the Russian believer would be very surprised and even shocked to learn that this practice is not at all ancient and does not exist in Greek churches.

It is also necessary and important to speak about the liturgical particulars among the Greeks and the Russians during the feast of Pascha. What is most striking is the reading of the Gospel in several languages during the Paschal night Liturgy by Russians (Prologue of St. John) while the Greeks do this at Vespers on the day of Pascha (Christ’s appearance to the apostles in the absence of Thomas).

However, in order not to lengthen my comments on this, I will move to the exposition of my theme from another point of view: the place of the veneration of the Theotokos in the noted variations. Here one needs to take note of a novelty recently introduced by the Zoe Brotherhood under obvious Protestant influences, which is quite common in the parishes of major Greek cities but not found in Athos.

This is the traditional Orthodox expression

“Most Holy Theotokos, save us”

being replaced by

“Most Holy Theotokos, pray for us,”

which diminishes the veneration of the Theotokos. This latter form “pray for us” is in no way heretical. It is found in many prayers to the Mother of God. But when it is used to replace “save us,” it gains the appearance of an anti-Theotokian coloration.

An earlier parallel trend can be found in the 1838 Typikon’s direction. The feast of the Annunciation, in the light of its significance in the work of our salvation — “the beginning of our salvation” and its context, can never be moved to another date even if it coincided with Great Friday, Great Saturday or Pascha itself. Changing the ancient practice, The 1838 Typikon, reasoning that such a coincidence would result in liturgical difficulties taxing the abilities of the rural clergy to cope with them, directs that in such cases the feast of the Annunciation be moved to the second day of Bright Week. This innovation, accepted in Greece, was rejected by the Athonite monks who found that this diminishes the feast of the Annunciation and thus diminishes the role of the Theotokos in our salvation.

The Russian Church preserved the old order of not changing the date of the Annunciation. It must be noted that the adoption of the new calendar for fixed feasts while maintaining the old reckoning for Pascha (which constitutes a liturgical monstrosity) solved the problem for the Greeks since, for them, the Annunciation cannot any longer coincide with Holy Week or Pascha. However, following these tendencies of the 1838 Typikon (if they indeed exist) it can be shown that the feast of the Annunciation[3] itself is observed with greater solemnity among the Greeks than among the Russians. When it occurs during Great Lent (except for the last three days of Holy Week) all Lenten services with prostrations are set aside during the feast whereas the Russians continue to make the prostrations and read the penitential prayer “O Lord and Master of my life…” even on the day of the great feast itself (which likewise is a liturgical monstrosity). In addition, as we already noted, the service of the Akathist to the Most Holy Theotokos during Lent has a greater meaning among the Greeks than the Russians.

I will mention a few more differences between the Russian and Greek liturgical particulars both in liturgical and para-liturgical services and in the people’s attitude toward them. Thus, prior to the Great Entrance, a Greek bishop bows to the people from the Royal Doors, asking for their forgiveness, and then blesses them. This practice is very meaningful spiritually but it was lost with the Russians. Their bishops do not ask the people to forgive them prior to the Great Entrance nor do they bless them. It is felt that to ask forgiveness at that moment is the business of the priests. But on the other hand the Greek bishops do not bless the people outside liturgical services and limit themselves to proffer their hand to be kissed. A blessing is considered to be a liturgical act, inappropriate outside the temple.

For the Russian Orthodox pious people receiving the bishop’s blessing at the end of the Liturgy is almost as important as the service itself. This can be seen in today’s Russia where masses of people gather at the entrance to the church and ask for the bishop’s blessing. This could be explained by the Greek practice of the bishop personally distributing the Antidoron at which time people kiss his hand, which replaces the blessing, while the Russians pick up the Antidoron themselves.

Finally a serious difference in the liturgical consciousness between the Greeks and the Russians is expressed in that the Greeks (I have in mind pious Greeks) always come to the Divine Liturgy having fasted, whether they will receive Communion or not, whereas the Russians feel that this needs to be done only before receiving Communion. Otherwise one needs to have breakfast before going to the Liturgy to maintain strength. This does not keep them from taking the Antithoron, which is considered to be impious by the Athonite monks.

I would like to make some observations on what was discussed. I must say that this is not easy.

The liturgical particulars, which we examined, are complicated and at times contradictory. At times this simply involves practices without any particular meaning and are expressions of nothing more than a trait of national character (such as “honoring the bishop” among the Russians). Other facts express tendencies of a spiritual character (such as, for example, the important place of the Great Canon of Andrew of Crete among the Russians), or even of a theological character (the well-known anthropocentrism among the Russians in contrast to the more cosmological world-view of the Greeks, their “hieratism”). But these things usually involve undefined tendencies rather than differences in theological teaching or contradictions. The only important theological disagreement could be found in the liturgical practice of the commemoration of the angelic powers at the Proskomide and thus including them in the work of redemption.

Likewise, there is the question about the change of wine into the Precious Blood of our Lord at the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts. These problems demand clarification. But it is not necessary to jump to conclusions on the basis of certain differences. On the one hand, we must also take into account the differences between the relatively recent fruits of liturgical development characteristic of the Russians and the Greeks, which are distinguished by great beauty and theological profundity (long processions with the Burial Shroud among the Greeks; audible recitations of the prayer

“O Lord and Master of my life,”;

the change of vestments during the Liturgy of Great Saturday; and the congregational singing of the Creed and the Lord’s Prayer among the Russians).

On the other — the senseless interpolations into the Anaphora of Basil the Great made by the Russians. Here the matter is not about creativity but about distortion, which should as quickly as possible be corrected. (We should point out however that although this interpolation is redundant in the Liturgy of Basil the Great, of itself it is neither false nor heretical.)

It can be said that these liturgical particulars, — whether ancient or recent, successful or unsuccessful, and furthermore, of little significance when contrasted with the great unity of Orthodox liturgical practice as a whole, — are seen as valuable theological and spiritual treasures in their particular places and notwithstanding a few differences, they witness to the unity of the faith of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. However, the Church, while having no desire to enforce a liturgical uniformity, which would be both impossible and undesirable, must still determine whether these local particulars do not encroach upon her conciliar consciousness.

Source

ENDNOTES

[1]This difference does not appear in the several Greek and Antiochian translations into English which were consulted. Translator

[2] 1836. See “Pure Men, and Women Too” in Modern Library “The Poems, Prose and Plays of Alexander Pushkin”, Avraham Yarmolinsky, Random House, 1936 [Translator]

[3] Which coincides with the Greek Independence Day [Translator]

© 2011, Fr. John A. Peck. All rights reserved.