Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog… Now He's Eastern Orthodox?

“When Thou, O Lord, was baptized in the Jordan, worship of the Trinity was made manifest. For the voice of the Father bore witness to Thee, calling Thee His Beloved Son. And the Spirit, in the likeness of a dove, confirmed the truth of His word. O Christ our God, who hath appeared and enlightened the world, Glory to Thee.” – Troparion for the Feast of Theophany.

This was the first feast of the Church I have celebrated as a newly illumined Orthodox Christian. What a joy to be present for the First Blessing of the Waters, the Vesperal Divine Liturgy and the Divine Liturgy on the morning of the feast.

During the short homily at the Vesperal Liturgy Fr Patrick was telling us how the blessing of the waters is like a reminder to us of our baptism. I know that I  JUST got baptized last week, but in the future this will be true. I later noticed that the phrase, “You created us out of the same elements as the earth…” was in both the prayer of the blessing of the waters and one of the pre-baptismal prayers. One of the things I appreciate about Orthodoxy is how everything is connected. There is nothing that is done for its own sake. Everything we do is somehow connected to our Savior.

On the morning of the feast (again during the homily) it was pointed out that this was the first time in history that it was made known to mankind that God exists in Trinity. I have heard it said that the Old Testament was a progressive revelation about the nature and character of God. In fact, Hebrews speaks to this fact in it’s opening verses, but then goes on to say that in these “last times” He has spoken to us by His Son, indicating a kind of finality to His revelation of Himself to mankind in this present age. Later, my sponsor came over and whispered to me that without the events of the Baptism (the Theophany) we would never understand the significance of the Nativity. He marveled at the wisdom the Church has in the way it has ordered its feasts days, so as to instruct us in our salvation. What a spiritual treasure that this feast day is!

Now comes the joy of having the annual house-blessing. In a sense, not just myself, but everything that I and my family have is baptized into Christ. No longer “alive” unto itself, but in Him, by Him and for Him. What a joy!

A Blessed Theophany to you all.

I don’t know why, but when Sam takes his leave of Merry and Pippin after their journey back from the Grey Havens, returns home and putting little Elanor on his lap says, “Well, I’m back.” I get a little choked up. I like the fact that the movie ended with the same line as the book and didn’t try to exercise creative license with it.

Like Sam, I am now “back home”. Home, to the Orthodox Church. I’m not back in a prodigal sense, but in a “back to the beginning” sense. On the 31st of December, 2011 at 4pm, just before the Vespers service for the commemoration of the Circumcision of Christ, I was received into the Orthodox Church by Holy Baptism and sealed with Holy Chrism. Ironically, I was received in with another man named Jeremiah who also had the Prophet Jeremiah as his patron saint. It was quite a way to end 2011 and begin 2012.

The decision to go with the 31st as the date of baptism instead of on the day after Theophany because I had vacation days from work already set for New Year and couldn’t switch the days. The date also allowed friends and family to be there that otherwise would have not. Even the decision to go with Theophany weekend was only made about a month in advance. I had to tell my girls that they would be receiving a period of instruction before their baptism and we would not be baptized together. They were very understanding, and even excited.

A few weeks before the baptism I prepared by doing a Life Confession. For more than two years I had dreaded the idea of confession, thinking that I would probably be shown the door. What a fool I was! I found confession to be a relief to my soul. I should have been availing myself of this all along, even if it wasn’t sacramental until baptism. Even though I was not given absolution at the time, I anticipated it in Baptism. While it was a relief, it brought up things I hadn’t thought of, and things I had forgotten at the time of the confession. At my second confession felt an even greater sense of relief and peace. I knew I would be going into the water with a clear conscience.

I also spent those few weeks reading through four parts of a series of lectures given my St John Chrysostom to those preparing for baptism and those newly illumined in baptism. One of the things that stood out was his emphasis to those preparing on the need to forget the past and look to the future. This emphasis was based on the fact that we are united to Him as soldiers and as a bride. His Mercy and Grace erase all our past, and we are give hope for the future. To the newly illumined Chrysostom reminded them of how earthly dignitaries behave themselves above reproach for the honor of their office. How much more aught we to act in a dignified manner because we bear the name Christian. I marked and underlined man, many other things and discussed them with Father Patrick.

The final week prior to the baptism was not without it’s trials. Not too many days before the biggest trial of the week hit, I was reading Hebrews 10:32-39. It speaks of the trials the Hebrews encountered after their illumination, and Paul’s encouragement to not lose courage, “for the just shall live by faith.” It was a great reminder and encouragement on that final approach to the Fount.

I began the day of baptism by attending the last half of Reader’s Matins, after which I went with my wife and a couple Orthodox friends to a local place for a kind of brunch. After that, I began my fast and tried to make the day as peaceful as possible, trying to prepare myself for the evening. As anyone with kids knows, that is easier said than done. I’m sure it’s hard without kids. All in all it was a peaceful day and while I’m sure no one ever feels “entirely ready” for baptism, I felt as ready as I could.

Thankfully I have a sponsor who is on top if it, because I didn’t have to worry about any details except being there. Our parish is smallish, so our baptismal was set up outside. Thankfully it was a very warm So Cal December afternoon/evening. The Archimandrite/Priest (Fr Nicodim) from the Romanian Parish nearby was there with a monk (Fr Ephrem). I have been to his parish several times, and was glad he came to share in the occasion. Seeing the three candles at the head of the baptismal, as well as the blessing cross, Gospel, Chrism, my baptismal cross and towel set on a table to one side was almost surreal. I had seen it set up several times for others, but today I was going in!

As friends and family joyfully gathered around the baptismal with “the other” Jeremiah and I, I was overjoyed. As the prayers were spoken, though I have heard them a number of times at other baptisms, it was powerful to hear them spoken over me. Speaking the Symbol of Faith and saying the words in unison with my sponsor “I renounce them” and spitting on the devil after the priest asks if I renounce all the works of the devil and his pride, hear the priest ask, “Do you unite yourself to Christ?” and responding “I unite myself” then, “I have united myself” was also very powerful. Surprisingly, I did not “feel” anything as I went under the water three times, hearing the words, “The servant of the Lord Jeremiah is baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” save the cramp in my foot. But later, remembering the prayer that my baptism would be unto the forgiveness of my sins, I thought back to my spiritual father telling me that my baptism would be my absolution. At that moment I thought how much more powerfully I felt my conscience cleared.

After I was dry and redressed I once again stood before the priest and beside my sponsor, as well as fellow initiate. My 6 year old (my middle daughter) was so happy, she came up behind me and gave me a hug, not knowing it wasn’t over yet. The huge smile on her face and enthusiastic embrace brought an even bigger smile than the one I already had. Hearing the priest say, “The seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit” to which the gathered respond in unison,”SEAL!” was a joyful moment. Singing the words, “All those who have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ, Alleluia!” as we circled the fount three times was the most joyful song in the world to me. Father even asked the visiting clergy to sing it in Romanian after each English singing of it.

When we moved into the Church Nave and stood before the table with the sponge for removal of the Chrism and the tonsure, by the cutting of four points of my hair in the sign of the Cross. At this point my youngest daughter (2 years old) came over and snuggled up to my leg. It was sweet to have her there with me. As I watched my hair burn in the flame of the candle, I knew I was now in the service of the Church. Once the service was complete my girls came running up to me for a hug and to say how happy they were for me, along with my wife. The time of fellowship with my friends and family afterwards was a great joy. I embraced my fellow initiate as well. It was quite a moment for me to finally be in the Church. I know many others have had far longer journeys, but I felt the tremendous relief of being home.

For me, the most powerful moments were yet to come. Being as the service was followed by Vespers and not Liturgy, we would not receive Holy Communion until the next morning. As I spoke the preparatory prayers for Communion the night before, and the next morning, I suddenly realized that I was no longer praying the prayers in anticipation, but was preparing myself for the “real deal”. There was a sense of nearness as well. Instead of feeling like I am praying to God, who is “Up There” I was praying to God who is “nearer than my own breath.” There no sense of tingling, levitating or anything else, just a sense of nearness and being present. The next morning, as I prayed with the Faithful, I was finally praying AS one of the Faithful. One of the customs our parish has is that of touching the vestments of the priest as he goes by with the Elements in the Great Entrance. It’s a symbolic way of saying, “This is my offering too.” I normally abstain, since I have not before been truly able to participate, but this time I reached out. Nothing magical happened, but it was powerful all the same.

Praying the words of the final preparatory prayers for Communion, “I believe, O Lord and I confess that Thou art truly the Christ, the Son of the Living God, who didst come into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief… of Thy Mystic Supper, O Son of God, accept me today as a communicant, for I will not speak to Thine enemies of Thy Mysteries, neither will I give Thee a kiss as did Judas, but like the Thief will I confess Thee, ‘Remember me, O Lord, in They Kingdom.'” was the most striking of all the moments I had in the course of the 24 hours surrounding my baptism. This was it! I was really going to go forward and receive His Immaculate Body and His Precious Blood. Even the Our Father, which I have prayed a thousand times before, seemed more vibrant and real than ever. What a joy it was as well to pray the Post-Communion prayers of thanksgiving.

What a joy to finally be home.In a couple days I will experience the Feast of Theophany for the first time as a fully Orthodox Christian… Feels good to finally be home! I know my journey has really only just begun, but it really feels like a homecoming and a settling in.

This is a link to my friend’s blog. It’s a great reminder of why we do what we do in the Liturgy.

“Come, Let Us Worship and Bow Before Christ”

via “Come, Let Us Worship and Bow Before Christ”.

Image via Wikipedia

I know I normally draw some kind of analogy between Orthodoxy and Lord of the Rings, but this thought has been rolling around in my mind for a couple weeks. Tonight, November 18th, marks the 19th anniversary of the death of my dad. That seems like an odd number of years to reflect on (19), but it has some significance to me. For this year I am 38. That means tonight marks exactly half of my life has been lived without my dad (I called him Papa). It’s not a particularly moving thought, nor is it one that has been bringing me down, but it has been in the back of my mind for a while. So tomorrow, when I wake up, the days will begin to tick and I will have lived more of my life without my dad, than with him. I know that’s a reality that many people live with, so I do not consider my situation unique.

One ironic thing about that night, 19 years ago; I found myself before a large picture of Christ that hung in my room. His eyes always appeared to be looking right into your soul, laying it bear. I suddenly had a sense that it was all in His hands, and that I would be fine. The irony is that I was an “iconoclast” Protestant Fundamentalist. Now, 19 years later, I stand before an icon of Christ in prayer every day. Also now, instead of only wondering what may have become of his soul, I pray for him daily, that God would grant him His eternal Kingdom.

So while the main thing I have been reflecting on today has been the death of my dad, and the fact that I have lived half my life without him, I can now see that even the tragedies in my life pointed me to the Orthodox Church. That picture of Christ was just a veiled hint of what I would eventually find in Orthodoxy. Yet it really did speak something deep to me, just as Christ speaks to me now through the Church.

“Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will both no and yes.” These were the words of Frodo during his conversation with Gildor at Wood End, after there near-miss with the Black Rider.

I have begun reading the Lord of the Rings Trilogy to my daughters recently. As I read through this part of the story, it reminded me of a conversation I had with an alumni of Calvary Chapel Bible College when it was in Twin Peaks, CA. We had been discussing comments made by another alumni on a Facebook page for CCBC. The conversation turned to the Orthodox Church and how I had come to my decision to become Orthodox. After I explained my journey, in brief, He asked how urgently would I advise him to become Orthodox. He asked me to put it on a scale from 1-10. 10 being urgent, 1 being “not very”

For a second, I thought it an odd question. (Maybe in a small way I ‘m beginning to “Think Orthodox”) But then remembering my Protestant roots, the question suddenly made sense. He was thinking of the Orthodox claim to be the fullness of the Church as as exclusivist, “You’re in, or you’re out.” proposition. He was also looking for a simple, direct answer. After thinking his question over, I realized there is really no clear-cut answer, in the way he was expecting.

My answer to him was as follows:  “My answer to this question may prove useless. At the time I began to figure out the truth of Orthodox claims, I found the urgency to be a 10. I could not turn away, so to speak. At one point I thought of giving the whole journey up, only to find that I could never go back to being a Protestant (which, by the way, I was born to hippie parents in the early CC movement, married by Chuck Smith). But after the past 2 years or so of being immersed in Orthodoxy as a catechumen, I can say that the urgency is close to a 1. Not because Orthodoxy is not true, but because Christ’s light fills all things. Even though Orthodox believe we are the fullest expression of the Church, (while saying we are THE Church) that every denomination that has sprung from the Church has the light of Christ, even if it is incomplete. I would personally urge you to do it as a 10. It’ll be a tough journey at first, but it is beautiful. At the same time, the urgency is 1, because, as my priest tells me, “The Church isn’t going anywhere.” As Andrew told Peter, “Come and see.” “

While the draw to Orthodoxy, at urgency level 10, was purely from within myself, I never felt an external “push” from the Church. No coercion, or threats with the prospect of eternal damnation if I wasn’t a part of the Church NOW! I was kindly invited to “Come and see.” not told, “You need to make a decision, because you don’t KNOW where you’ll go when you die, if you’re not Orthodox.”

It is nice to have the steady, solid, 2000 year old witness of the Orthodox Church, drawing people to the Life in Christ, experienced in worship, word and sacrament. There is the simple invitation to those outside. Not that we neglect mission, evangelism, etc. For it is the command from our Lord Himself to share His Good News. And while I think we Orthodox could use a good “shot in the arm” to be more vocal in our evangelism and mission, we are not driven by a paranoia to be “in your face” with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In a word, it is, Refreshing.

The picture above is one of the collection of Lord of the Rings paintings done by the Hildebrandt Brothers in the 60’s and 70’s. I’ve always thought this depiction of the Wild Men of the Druidan Forest is on of the best. These men were assumed to be ignorant, savage brutes by the Riders of Rohan, as well as those of Gondor. Their lives had become a thing of fable and legend. Yet the encounter that Kind Theoden had with Ghan-buri-Ghan shows a keen understanding that is far beyond what they are believed to possess. Not only that, but a deep connection with the earth itself. Such was their connection that Ghan-buri-Ghan told Theoden of the change in the wind that would mean victory over the dark cloud of Sauron.
On the 14th of this month (September) was the feast of the Holy Elevation of the Precious And Life-Giving Cross, as all Orthodox Christians well know. I attended Divine Liturgy at a Romanian parish up the street from my house, as it was their parish’s name day. I normally attend services at St Peter the Apostle, as the services are in English, but I enjoy being amongst the people of this little Romanian parish, even if I don’t understand anything other than a few phrases here and there.

On this particular day I had the unique pleasure of speaking to an older Romanian woman who had lived through Communist government, which lasted from 1947-1989. This conversation was also a challenge, as not only was her English rather broken, but I had the distraction of looking after my curious two year-old girl who was also getting tired of being there. She told me about how people had their rich were exploited and indoctrinated and made “one of them” as she put it. She said many of them lived in poverty after the Communists took over. The worst thing for her was how the Communists tried to replace the Church. Many Church buildings were destroyed, clergy and laity alike were jailed, exiled and even killed in many instances. She told me how on Pascha Night and Nativity Night parishioners would come to Church to celebrate, only to be met by buses waiting to load them on board and take them to mandatory communism meetings. “They took us to these meetings so we couldn’t worship Jesus.” This was obvious done with malicious intention on the part of the communists. How wonderful to know that they could not really keep these people from celebrating the Incarnation and Resurrection of Christ. Once the communists lost power, they were once again “free to practice our religion.” as she put it. What they really were was free to do what they had already been doing, even under the thumb of communism: worshipping Christ.

I was amazed at the fact that I was talking to a living example of the Church living under persecution. The words of Christ echoed through my mind as she spoke, “But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved.” (Matthew 24:13) She, and millions of other Romanians, literally endured until the end of communism in he country.

It also made me think of how arrogantly American Evangelicals went into the “Godless Eastern Bloc” in order to “share the Gospel” with its people. What nobody ever considered was that the Church has not only been there for centuries, but lived under the kind of persecution that our comfortable existence can’t even fathom. The other thing that I began to think about was how those that did know about the Orthodox thought of them. I think it was similar to the way the Wild Men were believed to be; primitive, superstitious, unintelligent and in many other ways inferior to themselves. But what many Evangelicals did/do not understand is that the fulness of the Christian Faith exists in the Orthodox Church. It’s the faith once delivered to the saints.

I found myself both excited and humbled to have the chance to meet someone who had lived through persecution and come out of it still “enduring to the end”. May I and my fellow Christians do as well as she, should we live to see such times come upon us, our land, and our families.

Image via Wikipedia

One of the quirky things about Hobbits that I always had mixed feelings about, was their use of “Shire Reckoning”. I liked the fact that Hobbits had their own quiet lifestyle and their own way of measuring time. Their lifestyle was simple, quiet and had a peaceful dignity to it, even if they were largely ignorant of the outside world.

The downside of this way of thinking was the fact that Hobbits became suspicious of anything “foreign”, even to the point of thinking ill of their own who had dealings with those from the outside. Even less well-though-of were those Hobbits living amongst the “Big People” in places like Bree. In this way, anything outside of the tight-knit circle of what is perceived as normal and proper is frowned upon vigorously. When all is well, life has a simple enjoyment and a peaceful quality. It’s when one speaks of the “outside” that things can get a little dicey.

In some of my recent internet surfing and interactions on Facebook and such, I have come across a group of non-canonical Orthodox that call themselves the “Genuine” Orthodox Church. The separated themselves from the canonical Church over the issue of using the Gregorian versus the Julian Calender. They view this as a “detestable innovation” and a bowing down to papalism. As such, they view attempts at ecumenism as evil, and anyone who is a part of it is of “the synagogue of Satan.” It seemed as though they speak more about what they stand against, than what they are for. I read more anathemas against New Calenderists and Ecumenists than anything else.

Another group that has a similar view (though not nearly so visceral) is the Old Calender Orthodox Church of Greece-Holy Synod In Resistence. They believe that the main body of Churches have  strayed in adopting the New Calender and/or ecumenism, but they speak of the wish for restoration with their estranged brothers and sisters. Of course their version of restoration means to accept their terms and conditions, but they do not seem to espouse so many “anathemas” as the “Genuine”  group.

I also recently read an article by a concerned Orthodox brother about his take on these groups taking root in communities around the world, as well as proliferating their particular viewpoint via the internet. His main concerns were their ability to look like canonical Orthodox on the internet, when, in fact, they are not; that they may bring in people who are unaware of legitimate Orthodoxy, or proselytize Orthodox from their Churches; and also that they are springing up so rapidly throughout the world.

I can appreciate some of his concerns. While I would not call them heretics, I would agree that they are schismatic. According to the Church Fathers, schism is on a par with heresy, and some even consider it worse. My personal fear is that the issues creating their separation would give further fuel to those who criticize the Orthodox Church in particular, and Christianity in general, for a lack of love and unity. Where I differ from the concerns of some is in the issue of them leading people astray. In his first General Epistle, St John exhorts us to “test every spirit” and see what sort they are of. It seems to me that the kind of exclusivist language of these groups will make their spirit evident (or at least the spirit their rhetoric stands for).

Their proliferation on the internet, as well as their parishes popping up all over the globe is of little concern to me. I figure they have far more in common with us than those with whom we seek communion after 1000 and 1500 years of schism (i.e. the Roman Catholic and Oriental Orthodox Churches). My hope is that we can find a means for coming to the table and work towards a restoration of communion.

While the rhetoric one reads online may sound like this would be impossible, meeting people at the parish or monastic level gives a different impression. I have had the opportunity to meet and even attend Liturgy with some Orthodox who are a part of the Old Calender Orthodox of the Synod of Resistance. When I visited the women’s monastery of St Elizabeth the New Martyr of Russia and the parish of Sts Cyprian and Justina the people were very gracious, kind and hospitable. Far from having a “false piety”, (which I have read some accuse these groups of having) these brothers and sisters in Christ, both clergy and monastics, were shining examples of lives lived for the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The mothers of the monastery were gracious enough to give my daughters and I a tour. They were exceptionally patient with my then 5 year old’s incessant  questions and interruptions. When I mentioned I was a cetechumen in the Antiochian Archdiocese, they mentioned nothing of schism, Old of New Calender, or heresy. They spoke fondly of my priest (Fr Patrick seems to be fairly well known) when I told them his name. The Parish was also very kind. They also spoke nothing of the differences with their jurisdiction. Overall, I’d say their piety and spirituality is the same as any “canonical” Orthodox.

What I find far more disturbing than anything these non-canonical groups have to say, is the disturbing trend of internet “watchdogs”. They criticize these groups for their use of the same medium they spread their opinions around. I find their work to be far more destructive than those who have a heartfelt issue with the switching of the calender. (And just for the record, I do not believe the calender should be an issue for separation within the Church. But I do understand their opinion to a certain degree) The reason I say this is because I believe it does far more harm to the Body of Christ to have those who are fully in communion with the Church and participate in Her sacraments spreading gossip through the Church. Whether or not the things being said are true, I believe there is a better way of dealing with it than I have seen some do. Not all have questionable content, but many do. I have read articles in which Metropolitans that have fallen into one sin or another and their assistant called a “demonic duo”. I have read of my own Metropolitan being accused of acting like the Taliban. I have read of people mocking and almost rejoicing in the turmoil within another, so-called, rival jurisdiction.

I am not surprised that these things go on, and I do not call into question the character of the people who post such things. I am sure they believe they are doing the Church and its people a great service. I believe, as they do, that the leadership should be called into question for grievous sins, but I think there is a godly, gracious way to do so. I think we need to be careful of the mentality that says, “They should PAY!!!” Rather we should say, “Lord have mercy on them and grant them space for repentance and restoration of communion. And grant the hearts of those wronged the grace to forgive.” I think if that were the message and intent of the internet “watchdogs” we would do far better.

Most importantly as I reflect upon this I am reminded of the words of Fr Andrew Stephen Damick of  St Paul’s Orthodox Church, who, when asked about those who receive the Eucharist “unworthily”, he exhorted the questioner to not worry about others receiving the Holy Mysteries unworthily, but worry about whether or not WE ourselves are doing so unworthily. So as I continue to prepare myself and my family for entry into the Orthodox Church, I ask myself if I will be worthy of receiving the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ my Saviour. I am sure my sins are far more grievous than anything found on some “watchdog” blog or website. So forgive me if I have been hypocritical or out of line with this post. My only intention with this post is to say that we aught always to say for one another, “Lord have mercy” and not “Lord, make them pay!”

               This is from a blog posted by my friend and former Bible College classmate  MARCELO P. SOUZA. His Blog is called Luminous Darkness

              The sacrament of Repentance (or Penitence, or Confession) begins to be administered to the faithful from the moment they are old enough to know the difference between right and wrong and to understand what sin is (K. Ware mentions that this happens usually at age six or seven). Of course, all baptized adults are expected to confess regularly from the moment of their baptism, since, through this sacrament, sins committed after baptism are forgiven and the sinner is reconciled to the Church. Thus, it is often called a “second baptism.” The sacrament is not merely judicial; rather it provides the double benefit of absolution as well as spiritual advice which is given as a cure for the healing of the soul. In the Orthodox Church, with theosis as the central dynamic of the Christian life, there is a great emphasis on the healing of the person, and not merely a sense of penal restitution. Yet, the prescription given in the spiritual advice will often include directing the penitent to take whatever steps necessary to restore the human relationships that have been affected by his or her sin, since sin is not only against God but also against our neighbor, against the community. The recognition of the many ramifications of personal sins affecting others was such in the early Church that both the confession and the penitential discipline were public affairs; since then, especially with the greater recognition that forgiveness of sins after baptism was not limited to one or two times, confession has taken the form of a private conference between priest and penitent alone, and it is encouraged that this will take place regularly. The private character of the conference between the penitent and the confessor also requires that the latter (usually a priest) is forbidden to reveal to any third party what he has learnt in confession. In Orthodoxy confessions are heard in any convenient place, usually at the church, but not necessarily so. Closed confessionals with a grille separating confessor and penitent are not used, as it is (or was) customary in the West. If the meeting takes place at church, it is usually in the open immediately in front of the iconostasis, or sometimes standing behind a screen, or even in a special room set apart for confessions. Whereas in the West it is usual that the priest sits and the penitent kneels, in the Orthodox Church they both sit or both stand. The penitent often faces a desk on which are placed the cross and an icon of the Savior, or the Book of the Gospels; the priest stands slightly to the side. This is important to note because the setting reflects the underlying theology of the practice. In the Orthodox Church, it is emphasized that in Confession it is not the priest but God who is the judge, while the priest is only a witness and God’s minister. This is why the Sacrament begins with, “Behold, my child, Christ stands here invisibly and receives your confession . . . but tell me without hesitation all the things that you have done, and so you will have pardon from our Lord Jesus Christ . . . I am only a witness . . .” Upon hearing the confession, the priest will often ask questions, and then he will give advice. After confessing everything, the penitent kneels or bows his or her head, and the priest places his epitrachelion on the penitent’s head. The priest then lays his hand on the stole, and says the prayer of absolution. In the Greek practice, the Priest says: “Whatever you have said to my humble person, and whatever you have failed to say, whether through ignorance or forgetfulness, whatever it may be, may God forgive you in this world and the next…. Have no further anxiety; go in peace.” The Slavonic formula of absolution, introduced by Peter Moghila, Metropolitan of Kiev, and adopted by the Russian Church in the 18th century, is as follows: “May Our Lord and God, Jesus Christ, through the grace and bounties of His love towards mankind, forgive you, my Child [Name] all your transgressions. And I, an unworthy Priest, through the power given me by Him, forgive and absolve you from all yours sins.” Many Orthodox feel that in this 18th century form, in which the priest uses the first person pronoun in connection to the forgiveness and absolution of the sins of the penitent, is a declension from the traditional sacramental practice of the East, for in no other case does the priest speak in the first person singular. The priest also may impose a penance, but this is not an essential part of the sacrament, and in fact it is often omitted. Also, confession may be made to one’s spiritual father, who might or might not be one’s priest. As Metropolitan Kallistos points out, in the Orthodox Church spiritual guidance is given often by an unordained monk or by a nun, and less commonly by members of the non-monastic laity. When that is the case, they hear the confession and give counsel in God’s name, assuring the penitent of divine forgiveness; but this is not considered to be, in the strict sense, the sacrament of Confession. In Orthodoxy there is no strict rule concerning how often one needs to go to Confession. Where communion is infrequent, the priest might expect the parishioners to confess each time before communion, but where communion is frequent, parishioners will not do so as often as communion takes place. The regular practice of Confession, however, is a vital means for the synergistic process of deification. As St Seraphim of Sarov stated, the Christian life is nothing else than the acquisition of the Holy Spirit; prayer fasting, vigils and all other Christian practices – including repentance and sacramental confession which gives context to fasting, vigils and so on – are indispensable means of attaining that aim. In Confession, as in every sacramental action of the Church, the Holy Spirit is invoked. Also, as with all the other sacraments of the Church, confession is a personal sacrament, i.e., the means whereby God’s grace is appropriated individually to a Christian. Repentance is an act of reconciliation and reintegra tion into the Body of Christ, which has been torn asunder by sin. “Therefore, confess your sins to one another … that you may be healed” (Jas 5:16). The motive for repentance is at all times humility, and the recognition of our dependence upon God not only for our forgiveness, but also for our strength to continually begin anew in his paths, putting off the old man and putting on the new man who is being created in the image of Christ. “For this life,” states John Chrysostom, “is in truth wholly devoted to repen tance . . . This is why it is necessary to re pent, not merely for one or two days, but throughout one’s whole life.”[1] Repentance is a way of life, of transfiguration, a continuous act of seeking and acquiring the illumina tion of the Holy Spirit. It is a continuous pathway and a perennial striving. The Greek term for repentance, μετάνοια, denotes a change of mind, a reorientation, a fundamentally different way of knowing oneself and looking at the world. “Repentance,” says Basil the Great, “is salva tion, but lack of understanding is the death of repentance.”[2] The words for “confess” in Greek (ἐξοmολογέω, ὁmολογέω) denote an acceptance of and sub mission to the divine Logos beyond and above the nature and condition of man. To confess is not so much to recognize and ex pose a failure as to go forward and upward, to respond from within to the calling of God. There are two dimensions of repentance: divine initiative and human response. God’s initiative has been primarily in his coming to us when we have turned from him, as Christ became incarnate for us and for our salvation. God is love, and he offers his love to all who repent and come to him. He objectifies his love and gives it unconditionally, in the person of his Son, and he sheds his love abroad in our hearts in the person of the Holy Spirit. The response to this ineffable outpouring of love is its acceptance. The sacrament of Confession is one of the most important means for the connection between the repentant sinner and his restoration through his acceptance of God’s love, reciprocated by the penitent’s commitment to turn from his ways and live. St. John says that if we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).