Ash Wednesday

'When you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, with a sad countenance. For they disfigure their faces that they may appear to men to be fasting. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you do not appear to men to be fasting, but to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly. Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.'

- Matthew 6:16-21

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday: and the first day of Lent. Many Christians, Orthodox and non-Orthdox alike, will be familiar with the ceremony of the imposition of ashes which has become customary on that day. This comes to us directly from the custom of the dismissal, in former times, of those who were excommunicate for one reason or another, and were serving a time of penitence before being received back into the full communion of the Church. Eventually, it became customary to impose the ashes on the heads of all who presented themselves.

Indirectly, this custom comes to us from Scripture, where numerous times in the Old Testament, we see reference to dust and ashes thrown upon the head as a sign of mourning, penitence, and a reminder of human mortality. (Job 2:12; Joshua 7:6; Lamentations 2:10; Ezekiel 27:30, among others).

Yet the Saviour warns us in quite clear terms not to disfigure our faces in order for our piety to be seen by others. This certainly ought to make us at least think about the widespread custom of being seen with a dark smudge or Cross on our faces, and how wee see this in light of this Gospel, particular in places where the ash is mixed with oil for the specific purposes of giving it a darker, more noticeable hue, and causing it to stay in place for longer.

Yet surely it cannot be that this has never occurred to anybody before.  Surely others have heard the excerpts from St Matthew's Gospel and wondered how to interpret them in light of the liturgical practice that they have always known of priests deliberately placing a visible and sometimes lasting mark on the faces of the people.

It is curious that all of those Old Testament references make mention of the dust and ash being specifically thrown upon the head. There is no mention of making a mark on the face.

Similarly, the rubrics of the service books make no mention of making a visible facial mark in ash but state simply that the ash shall be placed on the head.   The relevant rubric in the Sarum Missal simply says:

Afterwards the ashes shall be distributed on the heads of the clergy and laity by the higher dignitaries, making the sign of the Cross with the ashes...

The precise manner of how the ashes are to be distributed is not specified and it seems perfectly possible to me that this is the case because it was simply assumed that clergy would know how to do it.

Here is a missal woodcut that depicts the same thing, (sadly I do not know its provenance):



It was only a few years ago that I learnt that it is mainly in our anglophone world that the Cross on the face is as widespread as it is, and that in the Latin church, in many European countries, the custom is for the dry ashes to be sprinkled over the inclined head of the penitent in the form of a Cross, which is then barely, if at all, noticeable to anybody.  Could it be that this is the more ancient custom, and what is intended by the rubrics?

Below we see the sprinkling form of the imposition of ashes employed in the cases of two recent popes.














What is important is the action of the imposition of the ashes and its significance to the penitent: a sorrow for sins and the attitude and mindset that pledges repentance and amendment of life; a conversion of heart.  There is no need for a lasting mark on the face intended to be seen by the world.  Let our lasting mark be the visible fruit that we bear and that others see in our lives.

'Do you fast? Give me proof of it by your works. If you see a poor man, take pity on him. If you see a friend being honoured, do not envy him. Do not let only your mouth fast, but also the eye, and the ear, and the feet, and the hands, and all the members of our bodies. Let the hands fast, by being free of avarice. Let the feet fast, by ceasing to run after sin. Let the eyes fast, by disciplining them not to glare at that which is sinful... Let the ear fast... by not listening to evil talk and gossip... Let the mouth fast from the foul words and unjust criticism. For what good is it if we abstain from birds and fishes, but bite and devour our brothers?'

-St John Chrysostom, "The Proof of Fasting"

On the one occasion that I experienced Ash Wednesday liturgically in an Orthodox context (in ROCOR), the ashes were imposed using the visible-Cross-on-forehead method.  However, I must say that  am inclined to prefer what seems to be the more ancient custom, and I would ask our clergy to consider whether it might be worth adopting this practice. 

At a time when we can encounter such things as street corner and drive-thru ashings, and when it is difficult to look at our Facebook feeds at the start of Lent without seeing increasing numbers of Ash-Wednesday "smudge" selfies, perhaps the focus in how this day is presented to the people of God ought to be less on the physical mark and more prevalently on internalising within our hearts the meaning of the Lenten fast, allowing our passions to be subdued, and our hearts imbued with the grace of God, so that they may spring forth in genuine love for ourselves and our neighbours, for the sake of our salvation.

Is it a fast that I have chosen, a day for a man to afflict his soul? Is it to bow down his head like a bulrush, and to spread out sackcloth and ashes? Would you call this a fast, and an acceptable day to the LORD? Is this not the fast that I have chosen: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and that you break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out; when you see the naked, that you cover him, and not hide yourself from your own flesh? Then your light shall break forth like the morning, your healing shall spring forth speedily, and your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry, and He will say, ‘Here I am.’

-Isaiah 58:5-9

Pedantry: "Fast", please; not "Lent"

What is this strangeness to be found in use among English-speaking Orthodox people, and now seemingly found in calendars, of referring to all fasting periods as "lent"?

The word lent is from an Old English word meaning springtime.  Among Christians, it probably came to be used as a sort of shorthand for the lenten fast - literally, the great fast prior to Easter which, in the northern hemisphere where the terminology was coined, always takes place during the spring.

There are other fasting seasons throughout the year, of course, but some Orthodox Christians also call these by the name "lent", as though the word is some sort of synonym for fast, which, of course, it isn't.  It is not unusual to hear such expressions as Dormition lent, Apostles' lent, and so forth.  This makes no sense.  They are fasts, not lents.

I would be interested to learn what terminology is used in Russian or Greek, for example, to refer to the fasting seasons.  I assume that it is some word for "fast" and not a time of year.

Just saying.

Great and Holy Week

Here are a few photographs and video clips from my parish this Holy Week. We had two servers serving for the first time, along with a choir who did exceptionally well from memory given that the music for various things had been mislaid. This has been the most moving Holy Week that I have ever experienced and it has been in large part due to the dedication of my parish priest and fellow parishioners who, this year, seem to have made a special effort to assist with the various practical preparations for the services. There really has been something of a feel of communal effort and ownership of the liturgies that has been very encouraging.

The Lenten Prayer of St Ephraim the Syrian

O Lord and Master of my life, drive away from me the spirit of despondency, negligence, avarice and idle talk. But grant me, thy servant, the spirit of chastity, humility, patience and love. Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see mine own transgressions, and not to judge my brother, for blessed art Thou unto the ages. Amen.

A Milestone

Thou art baptised, thou art illumined, thou hast been anointed with the Holy Chrism, thou art sanctified, thou art washed: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

-from the rite of Chrismation

Today marks the fifth anniversary of my entry into Christ's Church. On the 6th of February, 2006, being the 19th of February by the civil calendar, I received the double Sacrament of Baptism and Chrismation. This was to have been at Pascha of that year but, for particular reasons, was brought forward to the Sunday of the Prodigal Son, itself a very fitting time for being received as an adopted son of the Father.



This year, the Sunday of the Prodigal Son falls tomorrow, and in preparation I have been reading the homily of St Gregory Palamas on the Prodigal Son. He makes some very good points about the detail of this parable that I had never previously considered, and makes me realise just how much I have inherited as a child of God. When I, as a result of my baptism, am able to stand with my brothers and sisters and cross myself, and sing 'Our Father', I am claiming all that is promised to the children of God who are adopted through the grace of baptism. The kingdom of God, the riches of heaven, the promise of growth into the life of God: I find this astounding once again, and it is in the Liturgy that I find this in its fullness.

There are two points in this homily that touch me most. St Gregory points out that the father in the parable only divides his estate into two portions: one for each of his sons. Nothing does he hold back for himself, having no need of such and being filled with generous love for his sons. It is only we who are in need of the grace that emanates from God. The second is that the Son demands of the father what he has no right to even request. The inheritance that is alotted to him is given only because of the father's loving generosity and is his. It reminds me of how much of what is good is often taken for granted and how little I sometimes acknowledge the source of these things.

I was also pleased and not a little disturbed to find elements of St Gregory's homily that bear directly on my struggle of faith last year, as though he himself had endured the same thing. Of course, it is perfectly possible that he had.

In any case, five years have passed, I have been relieved of many romantic ideas and like to think that I have grown a little amidst the numerous failures, thanks to those who have looked after me and guided me. I look forward to seeing where the next five years take me.

Having foolishly abandoned thy paternal glory, I squandered on iniquities the riches which thou gavest me. Wherefore, I cry to Thee with the voice of the prodigal son, saying, 'I have sinned before Thee, O compassionate Father. Receive me as one repentant, and make me as one of thy hired servants.'

-Kondak from the Sunday of the Prodigal Son

The Worship of God: a Commercial Enterprise?

There are those who may be offended by what follows. I fear that this is simply a hazard of saying what I believe to be right and true. Therefore, if you see your own custom criticised here and feel your back arch a little, I would ask you to take a step back from the initial reaction and ask yourself why you feel that way, and whether there might be something about your practice that could be reassessed.

Some of you have known me for a long time, whether as a personal friend of from my participation in a particular online Christian discussion forum, which has a real-life social element through which some of you have met me. Many of you will know that, in my Anglican days, I was a great fan of what is commonly called the English Use. This was the particular liturgical style that sought to restore Catholic elements to the worship of the Church of England, not by simply copying what modern or "traditional" Rome was doing but rather by restoring customs, music, and practices that had been part of the Catholic (and previously, Orthodox) tradition in Britain prior to the reformation, largely in the Use of Sarum and others similar to it. Among the benefits of these customs, were that, being part of the liturgical heritage of these isles, they were often found to be more palatable to the average Anglican than some of the more exotic continental customs which had come to be associated with Anglo-Papalism and other ecclesiologies that many found difficult, and had often continued in one form or another even during the most protestant phases of the Church of England. Also, they were free from associations with some of the sentimental devotional excesses of post-Counter-Reformation Roman Catholicism. Many of these early customs, of course, are once again to be found in the Orthodox Church in our Western Rite missions.

One of the most prominent proponents of the English Use was the Rev'd Dr Percy Dearmer, a rather eccentric Anglican clergyman in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, perhaps best known for his contribution to the production of The English Hymnal, (and authorship of some of its contents), and, even more so, The Parson's Handbook, which is just what the title suggests: a practical guide to the decent and orderly worship of God for ministers and those involved in the running of parishes. In it, he is highly opinionated and wonderfully forthright in the most amusing of ways, and demonstrates before his readers his own unique and refreshing brand of tact. Even those who disagree with his points, (and it is difficult to see how any right-thinking person could), must admit that his written style makes him an incredibly attractive author. I often wish he were alive today because I would love to read his blog, which I imagine would have a myriad of followers and receive regular comments, (unlike my own humble offering cough, hint, cough). In fact, my friends and I used to jest that, occasionally, it might be edifying to the people were we to occasionally forgo the Sunday Epistle and simply read an excerpt from The Parson's Handbook.

Read more...

Prostrations on Sunday

When I was newly baptised or perhaps still a catechumen, I picked up a great deal of what I know about Orthodoxy from discussions on the internet. Of course, one can question the wisdom of this as it has many pitfalls as well as advantages. Among these snippets of information was the rule that prostrations are forbidden on Sundays, in honour of the Resurrection. I had no reason to doubt this so I simply accepted it, and it was further reinforced by the fact that we did not make prostrations on Sundays at my parish, or at my local Greek or Antiochian parishes which I visit from time to time.

So, one Sunday a couple of years ago, when I paid a visit to my local Russian parish and saw some of the faithful prostrate themselves at the epiklesis, my first thought was that perhaps they simply did not know any better. My second thought, having seldom been to a weekday Liturgy, was just how much these people held their Lord in awe and reverence. Really, from that point, I have restrained myself from making prostrations on Sundays, contrary to what my heart calls me to do, and only out of obedience to this "no Sunday prostrations" rule.

Then, just over a fortnight ago, I was at the conference of the Diocese of Sourozh. On the Sunday morning, Archbishop Elisey served the Episcopal Divine Liturgy with his clergy, and I was confused to find that, with the exception of one priest who had trouble with his back, I was the only person in the altar who did not prostrate at the epiklesis.

Not being one to leave any liturgical question unanswered, I did some digging and found statements

Read more...

A Little Something to Lighten the Season

From Pithless Thoughts:

Ashes

'When you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, with a sad countenance. For they disfigure their faces that they may appear to men to be fasting. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you do not appear to men to be fasting, but to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly. Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.'

- Matthew 6:16-21

For my Orthodox brothers and sisters who belong to the Western Rite, today is Ash Wednesday, and the first day of Lent. Many Christians, Orthodox and non-Orthdox alike, will be familiar with the ceremony of the imposition of ashes which has become customary on this day. This comes to us directly from the custom of the dismissal, in former times, of those who were excommunicate for one reason or another, and were serving a time of penitence before being received back into the full communion of the Church. Eventually, it became customary to impose the ashes on the heads of all who presented themselves.

Indirectly, this custom comes to us from Scripture, where numerous times in the Old Testament, we see reference to dust and ashes thrown upon the head as a sign of mourning, penitence, and a reminder of human mortality. (Job 2:12; Joshua 7:6; Lamentations 2:10; Ezekiel 27:30, among others).

Yet the Saviour warns us in quite clear terms not to disfigure our faces in order for our piety to be seen by men. This certainly seems to make the widespread practice of people walking around with a dark smudge or Cross on their faces something that is not compatible with the teachings of Christ. Less so seems to be the custom of mixing the ash with oil for the purpose of giving it a darker, more noticeable hue, and causing it to stay in place for longer. Can it be that centuries of Christian tradition have been in direct conflict with the words of the Saviour? Or is there something else going on?

All of those Old Testament references make mention of the dust and ash being specifically thrown upon the head. Could it be that this is the practice that was adopted by the Church but which later became corrupted?

I recently learnt that it is mainly in our anglophone world that the Cross on the face is as widespread as it is, and that in the Latin church, in many European countries, the custom is for the ashes to be sprinkled over the inclined head of the penitent in the form of a Cross, which is then barely, if at all, noticeable to anybody. It is the action and its significance to the penitent that is the focus, and not any lasting mark intended to be seen by the world. After all, a smudge of ash on the forehead is not the natural outworking of the practice of a lively faith but rather the evidence is in the lasting effect on our hearts and lives.

'Do you fast? Give me proof of it by your works. If you see a poor man, take pity on him. If you see a friend being honoured, do not envy him. Do not let only your mouth fast, but also the eye, and the ear, and the feet, and the hands, and all the members of our bodies. Let the hands fast, by being free of avarice. Let the feet fast, by ceasing to run after sin. Let the eyes fast, by disciplining them not to glare at that which is sinful... Let the ear fast... by not listening to evil talk and gossip... Let the mouth fast from the foul words and unjust criticism. For what good is it if we abstain from birds and fishes, but bite and devour our brothers?'

-St John Chrysostom, "The Proof of Fasting"

Below we see the sprinkling form of the imposition of ashes employed in the cases of the current and last popes.













Could it be that this is in fact the earlier practice and that, somewhere along the line, it became customary in some places to place a smear on the face? The relevant rubric in the Sarum Missal simply says:

Afterwards the ashes shall be distributed on the heads of the clergy and laity by the higher dignitaries, making the sign of the Cross with the ashes...

The precise manner of how the ashes are to be distributed is not specified and it seems perfectly possible to me that this is the case because it was simply assumed that clergy would know how to do it. The rubrics in the local Roman use are equally vague. They certainly make no mention of forming a visible and lasting Cross in ash on the face. Here is a missal woodcut that depicts the same thing, (sadly I do not know its provenance):

On the one occasion that I observed the beginning of Orthodox Lent in the Western Rite, the ashes were imposed using the Cross-on-forehead method but that may not be representative of general Western Rite Orthodox practice. Is anybody able to offer any comment from experience of this elsewhere? Has anybody seen the sprinkling method employed? Most importantly, is it worth considering using this method in light of the words of the Saviour? Perhaps then we shall focus less on the foreheads of those around us and more readily internalise within our hearts the meaning of the Lenten fast, allowing our passions to be subdued, and the resultant imbuing of our hearts with the grace of God to spring forth in genuine love for ourselves and our neighbours, for the sake of our salvation.

Is it a fast that I have chosen, a day for a man to afflict his soul? Is it to bow down his head like a bulrush, and to spread out sackcloth and ashes? Would you call this a fast, and an acceptable day to the LORD? Is this not the fast that I have chosen: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and that you break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out; when you see the naked, that you cover him, and not hide yourself from your own flesh? Then your light shall break forth like the morning, your healing shall spring forth speedily, and your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry, and He will say, ‘Here I am.’

-Isaiah 58:5-9

Lenten Reading

I haven't very much to say in this post other than to state my intentions for spiritual reading and reflection this Lent. Some months ago, I was given a copy of The Spiritual Life by St Theophan the Recluse and have never picked it up to read it. I was told that he wrote for laypeople and that much of his thought and guidance is more readily accessible and achievable than much of what has been written from an intense monastic perspective, so I shall try to slowly make my way through it over the next few weeks and digest what I can.

I also plan to resume my daily readings of portions of the psalter in conjunction with Christ in the Psalms. When I started, I only did this for a week or so before my focus shifted to other reading, and I never got back into the routine.

Finally, I have The Law of God on order, so that should arrive over the next couple of weeks. It comes highly recommended but is less of a spiritual work than a general catechetical and explanatory work of various elements of Orthodox life and experience. It is, it seems, required reading for those seeking to enter seminary, and was transcribed numerous times by hand and smuggled into Russia during Soviet times so that the people could be educated in the Faith.

What are others' plans for Lenten reading?

Lent

O Lord and Master of my life, drive away from me the spirit of despondency, negligence, avarice and idle talk. But grant me, thy servant, the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love. Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see mine own transgressions, and not to judge my brother, for blessed art Thou unto the ages. Amen.

- A Prayer of St Ephraim the Syrian

The great fast is upon us. Of all whom I have hurt, offended, or otherwise wronged, I ask forgiveness.

This calling to once again direct our footsteps towards Christ, and to give particular attention to the expulsion from our lives of those things that hinder that is particularly timely for me this year because of certain recent developments, and certainly well needed after an emotionally and spiritually difficult few months. That is all I feel able to say publicly for now but your prayers would be appreciated.

I was baptised on the Sunday of the Prodigal Son so I always think of the words of the kondak of that Sunday in a very personal way, as applying to my Baptism. (A beautiful rendering of it in Byzantine chant may be heard here). Its actual application to my own life leaves much to be desired, however, so perhaps this is the time for growth through God's mercy.

Having foolishly abandoned thy paternal glory, I squandered on vices the wealth which Thou gavest me. Wherefore, I cry unto Thee with the voice of the prodigal: I have sinned before Thee, O compassionate Father. Receive me as one repentant, and make me as one of thy hired servants.

- Kondak of the Sunday of the Prodigal Son, tone 3