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Δευτέρα 3 Αυγούστου 2026

Tradition as Communion


Fr. Stephen Freeman

Glory 2 God for all things

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, concerning the Word of life—the life was manifested, and we have seen, and bear witness, and declare to you that eternal life which was with the Father and was manifested to us—that which we have seen and heard we declare to you, that you also may have communion (koinonia) with us; and truly our communion (koinonia) is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. And these things we write to you that your joy may be full. (1 John 1:1–4)

Typical of St. John’s writings, a vast reality is packed into a single sentence. In but a few phrases, he describes the full life of the Church and its place in the world. He does this under the heading of communion (koinonia). Later centuries would search for adequate language to express what St. John says here.

The Councils used the language of nature and person to express our union with Christ. Christ assumed our human nature in the Incarnation, uniting Himself to us, and us to Him. We say that “He became what we are that we might become what He is.”

But St. John’s language has a dynamic quality to it unmatched in later centuries. He begins by speaking of Christ as “the life which was with the Father.” He places that dynamic quality into a context that is extremely vivid: “that which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled…” What he expresses and declares to his readers is a completely “immersive” and “participatory” experience. It encompassed the whole being of those who were there.

The startling reality of this testimony of St. John is that he relates something beyond what “happened,” or what he “saw.” The “life” which was with the Father continues with him in what he describes as “communion” (koinonia). The life which was with the Father is now also with him. And, at the very heart of his message: this “life” of communion is available to all. It is this “life” itself that he declares to us.

There is yet another aspect of St. John’s words, utterly essential to their meaning and import: he writes in the plural. What he describes is not a private matter, but relates what “we” have experienced and known. Who is the “we”? Some scholars describe this as the “Johannine Community,” the Church surrounding the noted Apostle. It is clearly the Church, but, I think it describes that first Apostolic generation, the eyewitnesses who became “communicants” of eternal life in Christ. Additionally, I think we could and should identify this experience described by St. John as what Orthodoxy means when it says, “Tradition.”

For a variety of reasons, most people confuse “tradition” with the notion of “the way we have always done things.” This is neither its meaning nor does it express its importance. “Tradition” means that which has been “handed down,” or “delivered” to someone. It can refer to any number of things: beliefs, practices, authority, etc. However, here in St. John, we clearly have a reference to something being handed down which is itself “living.” What has been given is the “communion” with the Father and the Son, as well as a communion with the living community of the Church. And this communion is “life.”

Orthodoxy is often characterized as a “way of life.” I suspect that many imagine that phrase to describe a “way of doing things” exemplified by certain beliefs and practicies. Though there are beliefs and practices that are an intimate part of Orthodoxy, it should be rightly understood as a way of “life,” that is, of an abiding in the the living communion of the Godhead.

For example, though Orthodox Christians offer up morning and evening prayers (often as prescribed in various prayerbooks), the most prevalent teaching on prayer is that of the “unceasing remembrance of the Name of God.” This practice of the Jesus Prayer has its roots in the depths of the monastic life and unites the whole of Orthodox daily life, both monastics and non-monastics. It is said that monastics do not live a different life from those in the world, but a more intense form of the same life. This is fully in accord with the “tradition” of communion invoked by St. John.

I have had a rich experience in the work of nurturing the Orthodox way of life with converts. There are aspects that include teaching and nurturing a way of understanding and seeing – “traditioning” Orthodox doctrine. Of far greater and more lasting import, however, is something that only comes with time. I have seen this in myself as well as in others. I would best describe it as the movement of external forms into internal reality. St. Paul says this when speaking to a young Galatian community:

“My little children, I labor in birth again until Christ be formed in you,” (Gal. 4:19).

He can write to them, repeating the arguments and teachings that they have heard before, but nothing is settled until that life (which is Christ) is actually formed within them. St. John, strikingly, describes this under the heading of love. For St. John, it is love (particularly the love of the brethren) that is the mark of true spiritual formation. It is in his epistle that he famously declares that “God is love.” From that, he says that anyone claiming to know God but who does not love is a “liar” and the “truth does not dwell in him.” 

The love of which St. John speaks is no mere moral action – it is nothing less than the actual life and love of God dwelling in us.

“Do not marvel, my brethren, if the world hates you. We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love the brethren. He who does not love his brother abides in death. Whoever hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him.

By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us. And we also ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But whoever has this world’s goods, and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him?” (1 John 3:13–17)

This is the most fundamental form of the tradition – that which has been delivered to us. Just as the life of Christ is given in the sacrament of His Body and Blood (“As the living Father sent Me, and I live because of the Father, so he who feeds on Me will live because of Me.” John 6:57), so His life is given as well in the fullness of the Church. This is the true “content” of all that we receive in the Church. It is not a particular activity or pattern, but the content (the life and love) that has been vouchsafed to us in the whole of our life together. However, we do not abstract that life from the activity and pattern of the Church. These patterns and actions are the vehicles that nurture the life within us. Nevertheless, if we do not see the love of the Father and the Son in the life that we are given, then we are missing the very heart of the faith.

This is our communion – the very life of God – the God who is love.

 

Παρασκευή 5 Ιουνίου 2026

The True Dignity of Human Beings – Saint Gregory of Nyssa on Slavery

 



by Fr. Stephen Freeman  

Αncient faith / Glory 2 God for all things

Orthodox Outlet for Dogmatic Enquiries

One of the most rewarding aspects of reading historical material is how it reveals the human mind even at a great remove from our own. There is a myth in our culture that history is the story of progress. It presumes that only in our modern times have we begun to free ourselves from the false ideas of the past. What you discover when you actually read historical materials is that many of the worst ideas ever espoused were specifically “modern” ideas (eugenics, racial superiority, abortion, euthanasia, etc.).

Occasionally, you come across a piece of ancient writing that simply shatters these false assumptions. A case-in-point is this excerpt from St. Gregory of Nyssa’s fourth homily on Ecclesiastes. He is writing in the 4th century, A.D., when the Church is squarely in the Byzantine period. The homily is a commentary on Ecclesiastes 2:7 in which the writer describes his growing wealth and his acquisition of slaves. Nyssa uses the occasion for the most scathing critique of slavery in the annals of Christian preaching. It shows a wonderful clarity of theological insight and understanding – something that would and should have been available and understood both by his contemporaries and by Christians of all times. He did not invent this understanding – he simply demonstrates that its ideas are timeless and not the product of some later historical progress.

There is truth. It abides. There is sin. It obscures.

From the 4th Homily on Ecclesiastes – St. Gregory of Nyssa

Ecclesiastes 2:7
I got me slaves and slave-girls,
and homebred slaves were born for me,
and much property in cattle and sheep became mine.


The writer of Ecclesiastes sets out in careful order virtually everything in his own experience through which the futility of our activities in this life is known. But at this point he touches on what appears to be a more serious piece of evidence from his deeds through which he can be accused of the affliction of arrogant pride. What is there in what he has laid before us so far which leads to such a level of conceit? He has told us about a valuable house, an abundance of vines, elegant gardens and water features, nicely constructed swimming pools, extensive beautiful parkland. Yet, none of this can compare to his presumption that, as a human being he believes he can lord it over people who in essence are just like him. Because then he goes on to say: “I got me slaves and slave-girls, and homebred slaves were born for me”.

Do you detect the excessive arrogance? An utterance like this shows that he is exalting himself against God. We know from the words of the prophets that absolutely everything is subject to the supreme authority in the universe (Psalm 119/118.91). But this man counts as his own what truly belongs to God and gives to the likes of himself the kind of power which makes him think that he can be the master of men and women. When he sees himself as so different from those who are subject to him one can only conclude that pride has led him to go beyond what is appropriate for his nature.

“I got me slaves and slave-girls.” You are condemning to slavery human beings whose nature is free and characterized by free will. You are making laws that rival the law of God, overturning the law appropriate for humankind. Human beings were created specifically to have dominion over the earth; it was determined by their creator that they should exercise authority. Yet you place them under the yoke of slavery, as though you are opposing and fighting against the divine decree.

Have you forgotten the limits of your authority? Your rule is limited to control of irrational creatures. In scripture we read: “let them rule over birds and fish and four-footed creatures”. (Gen 1.26) How then do you go beyond what is subject to you and exalt yourself against a nature which is free, counting people like you among four-footed or footless creatures. “You subjected everything to humankind” declares the scripture through prophecy and it goes on to list what is under human control: domestic animals, cattle and sheep. (Psalm 8/7.8) Surely human beings have not been born to you from domestic animals? Surely cattle have not given birth to human offspring? Irrational creatures alone are subject to humankind. “He makes grass grow for animals and green plants for people’s slaves”. (Psalm 104/103.14) . But you have torn apart the nature of slavery and lordship and made the same thing at one and the same time enslaved to itself and lord of itself.

“I got me slaves and slave-girls.” Tell me what sort of price you paid. What did you find in creation with a value corresponding to the nature of your purchase? What price did you put on rationality? For how many obols did you value the image of God? For how many coins did you sell this nature formed by God? God said: “Let us make human beings in our own image and likeness” (Gen 1.26). When we are talking about one who is in the image of God, who has dominion over the whole earth and who has been granted by God authority over everything on the earth, tell me, who is the seller and who the buyer? Only God has this kind of power, or, one might almost say, not even God. For scripture says that the gifts of God are irrevocable (Romans 11.29). God would not make a slave of humankind. It was God who, through his own will, called us back to freedom when we were slaves of sin. If God does not enslave a free person, then who would consider their own authority higher than God’s?

How can people be sold who have dominion over the earth and everything on the earth? It is essential that the assets of people being sold are sold with them. How can we value the contents of the whole earth (Genesis 1.26)? If these are beyond any valuation then tell me, what is the value of the one who is over them? If you said “the world in its entirety”, even then you would not have found anything approximating to the value (Matthew 16.26; Mark 8.36). Someone knowing the true value of human nature said that not even the whole world is worth enough to be given in exchange for the human soul. So when a human being is for sale, it is nothing other than the lord of the earth being brought to the auction room. This means that creation as we know it is at the same time being put up for public sale. That is earth, sea and islands and all that is in them. How then is the purchaser going to settle the payment? What will the vendor accept considering the greatness of the property involved in the transaction?

Did the little notebook, the written agreement and the calculation in obols trick you into thinking that you could be master of the image of God? What utter folly! If the contract was lost, if the writing was eaten by moths, if a drop of water fell on it and washed it away, where is there any proof that you have a slave? Where is there anything that supports you in being a master? You have somebody who is named as your subordinate, but beyond the mere name I see nothing. 

What did such power add to your real nature? It did not give you extra years or any genuine superiority. Your lineage is still human, your life is similar, the sufferings of the soul and the body prevail upon you both in the same way, with you as master and another in subjugation you are still both affected by agony and delight, gladness and distress, sorrow and joy, anger and fear, disease and death. Surely there is no distinction in such things between slave and master? Do they not draw in the same air when they breathe? Do they not see the sun in a similar way? Do they not both sustain their life by taking in nourishment? Is not the make-up of their bodily organs the same? Do they not both return to the same dust after death? Do they not both face one and the same judgment? Is not the prospect of heaven and hell the same for them both?

So when you are equivalent in every way, tell me in what particular way you have more so that you think you can become master of another human being even though you are a human being yourself. “I got me”, you say, “slaves and slave-girls,” as though they were a herd of goats or swine. After saying “I got me slaves and slave-girls,” he added the good cheer that comes through flocks and herds. For he says “And much property in cattle and sheep became mine”, as though animals and slaves were subject to his authority to an equal degree.

This text is copied from the website Early Church Texts – edited by Revd Andrew Maguire.

 

Κυριακή 19 Απριλίου 2026

Thomas Sunday: John 20:19–31 (not simply a “story of doubt,” but a concise revelation)

 


The passage John 20:19–31, read at the Divine Liturgy on Thomas Sunday, is not simply a “story of doubt,” but a concise revelation of how the Risen Christ constitutes the Church as a body of living communion, faith, and mission. Orthodox tradition sees here the passage out of fear, the gift of the Holy Spirit, the healing of human unbelief, and the witness that Jesus is truly God and truly man.
The text begins “on the first day of the week” and with “the doors being shut where the disciples were gathered, for fear of the Jews.” The disciples have heard the news of the Resurrection, yet their inner world remains wounded: fear, confusion, insecurity. Christ, however, comes and “stood in the midst.” In the Church’s liturgical experience, the One who “stands in the midst” is the Lord who makes the community an ecclesial assembly: it is not an ideology that unites, but a Person who is present. His entrance, despite the closed doors, shows that His risen body is a true body, now freed from the limitations of corruption; it is not a ghost, but the same Jesus in a new, incorruptible mode of life.
 
The greeting “Peace be with you” is not a conventional wish. Here peace is the fruit of reconciliation between man and God, the end of the enmity generated by sin. At once “He showed them His hands and His side.” The marks of the nails and the wounded side reveal that the Resurrection does not abolish the Cross, but glorifies it. In Orthodox theology, salvation is not the erasure of the history of suffering, but its transfiguration into glory: Christ bears His wounds as an eternal testimony of His love.
Then Christ “breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” The act of breathing recalls Genesis, where God breathes into Adam the breath of life. Here a new creation begins: the renewed human being now lives “in the Spirit.” The gift is linked to mission and the forgiveness of sins: “if you forgive the sins of any….” 
 
The Church does not merely proclaim general “ideas about forgiveness,” but serves reconciliation sacramentally, as the fruit of the Passion and the Resurrection. This authority is not human domination, but a ministry of healing, which presupposes repentance and incorporation into the ecclesial community.
Thomas is absent and declares that he needs to see and to touch. 
Orthodox tradition does not present him as a “denier,” but as a person who desires the certainty of a personal relationship. After eight days Christ returns, again “in the midst,” and invites Thomas to touch. He does not humiliate him; He does not reject him. He condescends pedagogically, so that faith may become experience. The summons, “Do not be unbelieving, but believing,” does not condemn honest searching, but heals the distrust that closes the person in upon himself.
 
Thomas’s confession, “My Lord and my God,” is the climax of the Gospel of John: Jesus is explicitly acknowledged as God. And yet Christ’s beatitude—“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed”—does not praise blind acceptance, but a faith born from the Church’s witness, the Mysteries (Sacraments), and the energy of the Spirit. 
In the Divine Liturgy the Church lives this reality: it “sees” and communes with the Risen One as a true presence.
The epilogue of the passage reveals the purpose of Scripture: “that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in His name.” Faith is not psychological consolation, but entry into new life—namely, communion with the Triune God. Thus Thomas Sunday becomes a feast of certainty that the Risen One is not a memory, but the Lord who is present within His Church and communicates peace, the Holy Spirit, and life.
 

Τετάρτη 8 Απριλίου 2026

Bearing Shame With Christ

 


The mockery of Christ, fresco in the holy monastery of Metamorfosis, Meteora (from here)

Public shaming is a commonplace in our culture. Public stocks and tar-and-feathering have disappeared, but shaming itself is as up-to-date as the internet itself. I well imagine that some view the use of ridicule and derision as an inherent part of public life. Those who enjoy the accolades of crowds must be prepared to endure their opprobrium. Of course, for those who live anonymous lives, such public shaming is about other people.  The quiet sense (and sometimes not so quiet) that “they had it coming to them” is the strange pleasure of envy, a subset of shame. These are among the darkest parts of our public life.

Of course, there is nothing new about shame and envy. That our digital world is infected with them is nothing more than a manifestation of an ancient social contagion. It was envy that drove Cain to kill his brother. It continues to drive murders to this day.

It is deeply significant that the gospel account of Christ’s Passion includes ample descriptions of the shame and envy that permeated that event. Indeed, St. Mark’s gospel tells us that Christ perceived that it was “out of envy that the chief priests had delivered Him up” (Mark 15:10). I have noticed, across the years, that the texts for the services of Holy Week make far more mention of shame and envy (the “mocking and the spitting”) than they do of the specific suffering of the crucifixion itself. Crucifixion is not about the pain (the Romans had far more painful options at their employ). Crucifixion is specifically about the shame – it was considered the lowest form of execution – particularly suited for slaves.

St. Paul said, “I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless, I live…” Our attention is drawn to the Cross and its nails. However, if crucifixion is primarily an act of public shaming, then we have far more literal opportunities to be crucified with Christ. The mocking and the spitting, if only in their lesser forms, are likely common to us all.

Of course, there’s a very quiet crucifixion of shame endured by many: the torturous voices that haunt our lives, whispering in the dark. The insidious power of such shame makes us want to hide (hiding is in the very nature of shame). It attacks more than our actions – it goes for our very self.

We hear this in the mocking words hurled at Christ: “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross…” A similar taunt was spoken by the devil in the temptations in the wilderness. “If you…”

The taunts within us take on their own form – but are almost always aimed at “who we are,” or “what kind” of person we imagine ourselves to be. They are likely the deepest source of pain in our lives.

If it is true that we are “crucified with Christ,” then it is also true that Christ is crucified “with us.” The mocking and the spitting that we undergo in our own minds and lives is something that Christ has made His own. We are not alone. This is at the very heart of God’s love. In my pastoral experience through the years, I see that we doubt the love of God. We are unworthy (of course). We fail to love Him in return (of course). There is something within us, I think, that makes us give greater weight to the words and thoughts of shame than we do to the assurance of God’s love.

Our brains are wired for protection (for which we give thanks). However, that same wiring tends to give greater emphasis to dangers and warnings than to joy and celebration. Christ knows this very aspect of our being:

“Inasmuch then as the children have partaken of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise shared in the same, that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.”(Heb. 2:14–15)

I am aware of this, particularly, in the sacrament of confession, when the epitrahelion (stole) of the priest is placed over my head and I hear the soothing words that assure me of God’s forgiveness:

…May that same God forgive you all things, through me a sinner, both in this present world, and in that which is to come, and set you uncondemned before His dread Judgment Seat. And now, having no further care for the sins which you have declared, depart in peace.

I think of that space beneath the epitrahelion as the “secret place of the Most High.”

St. Paul wrote:

The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together. (Rom. 8:17)

I suspect we often externalize this verse and presume that it refers only to those who endure physical torture. However, its focus is found in the phrase, “with Him.” We unite our sufferings (even our self-inflicted mental tortures) with Him with as small a phrase as, “Lord, have mercy!” I have also been taught to pray, “O God, comfort me!”

In these things, with Christ, we are “more than conquerors.”

Let us die with Christ in the Jerusalem of our minds, that we may reign with Him in the New Jerusalem of His Kingdom!

 
Image: a detail from Christ Carrying the Cross by Hieronymous Bosch, ca. 1515.
 

Παρασκευή 6 Μαρτίου 2026

From Ancient Hellenic to Romeiko Civilization

 


Ioannis Kon. Neonakis
Head of the Romeosyne Policy Department of NIKI

ΝΙΚΙ 

The transition of our Genos (sic) from Ancient Hellenic to Romeiko civilization constitutes a pivotal development in the historical course of our people. Countless scholars across generations have concerned themselves with this transition. Here we shall simply mention eminent contemporary thinkers, such as the late Professors Fr. John Romanides, Fr. George Metallinos, Christos Yannaras, as well as the Metropolitan of Nafpaktos and Agios Vlasios, Fr. Hierotheos Vlachos.

All human communities, sooner or later, are led to an inevitable, foundational regulation of relationships and modes of life, aimed at satisfying innate needs (nutrition, pleasure, health, security, companionship, religion, etc.). The concept of need is broad. It is not limited to the bodily sphere but extends also to the psychic dimension. The instinctive search for the divine, for example, and the consequent formation of religion by man, which psychologically secures the individual, belongs to this same cycle of need and its satisfaction. Communities formed for the purpose of meeting needs thus shape what may be called “societies of necessity.”

Over the course of history, and depending on particular parameters (power structures, political systems, division of labor, technological development, education, artistic cultivation, etc.), countless variations of this model have emerged. Yet their central axis and primary objective remains the individual and the satisfaction of his needs. The more impersonal the individual becomes and the greater the uniformity achieved within such a society, the more effectively regulation, control, and systemic equilibrium are ensured. Despite the significant achievements of such societies (primarily in technological advancement or artistic production), the greatest good one may hope to attain—rarely realized—is merely well-being: that is, the orderly and uninterrupted satisfaction of individual needs. And yet this is the limit. Such a society can never existentially liberate itself from the oppressive bondage of necessity, nor escape the darkness of corruption and the ultimate tyranny of transience and death.

Standing as an exception in its time, ancient Hellenism—after centuries of historical maturation—managed to approach, if only briefly, imperfectly, and fragmentarily, another mode of existence: another kind of society, described by ancient thought and by modern thinkers alike as the “society of the true,” or alternatively as a “relation-centered communitarian civilization.” Here, the primary axis of life was no longer the satisfaction of needs but rather the relationship between persons, the safeguarding of otherness, and the harmonious integration of persons into a novel body: the Ecclesia, understood as a mode of living and illumination of relationship. The Ecclesia of the Demos was not merely an electoral assembly, but a way of life and a manifestation of relationship as the supreme value. The healing of need was not abandoned but was integrated into the service of preserving and elevating personal communion. Though imperfect, this civilization of relationship fertilized the Hellenic soul and rendered it fertile ground for further developments.

What the Hellenic intellect had long awaited was fulfilled—indeed fulfilled in perfection—when the God of the Christians was revealed to the Hellenic world. For this God bestowed upon the Hellenic soul the two things it most deeply desired: freedom from all necessity and an inconceivable model of personal communion. This God possesses an incomprehensible freedom, subject to no limitation. His Incarnation constitutes a transcendence of nature itself, while His Resurrection constitutes liberation from the ultimate necessity of death. Yet most astonishing of all is this: this God is not merely a person who has relationships; He Himself is relationship. The God of the Christians is defined as relationship—indeed, as relationship of ecstatic love: an indivisible, loving, ontological unity of three persons (“without division”), without confusion or absorption of otherness (“without confusion”). The Hellenes received this God with joy and were intoxicated with the “sober intoxication” of revelatory light. They tasted and celebrated the endless feast of the ecclesial event and sought, as far as they were able, to shape their relationships—both individually and collectively—according to the Trinitarian mode of “without confusion and without division.” Thus Hellenism evolved into a new way of life, into a new Hellenicity, into a new civilization: that of Romeosyne.

Much could be written concerning the specific elements and axes that constitute what we describe as Hellenic identity across time—elements of the “society of relationship” which existed in embryonic form within ancient life and found their full meaning and fulfillment within Orthodoxy. Here we shall confine ourselves to a concise presentation of certain central axes, using the formulation of the late Professor Fr. George Metallinos.

(a) A foundational element of Hellenic identity is religiosity as theocentricity. The Hellene is a theocentric being. He lives in constant reference to God. The Hellene was never atheist; rather, he always engaged in an unceasing quest for the true God. From Homeric times, the divine element permeates every aspect of daily life. This is precisely what led Saint Paul to describe the Athenians as “most religious,” that is, most reverent.

(b) The second element is ethics as humanism. Hellenic civilization affirms the human person, recognizes him, and honors him. Despite its shortcomings, it does not possess a racist spirit. It continually seeks truth and virtue, presenting moral exemplars and striving to educate toward the “good and noble.” It offers powerful paradigms of virtue, such as Antigone, who nearly touches Christianity itself.

(c) Simultaneously, Hellenism manifests a consciousness of the unity and universality of life. The Hellene affirms life in its entirety—all its dimensions, earthly and heavenly. He rejects nothing. This is what he would later proclaim more fully as a Christian: “Let us commit ourselves and one another and our whole life unto Christ our God.” It is the affirmation and sanctification of life in its unbroken and ongoing journey.

(d) Hellenic civilization also possesses a profound awareness of the limits of human reason. It knows that human reason and human capacities are finite. Any transgression of these limits is understood as hubris. Hellenism never accepted any form of absolutized rationalism or the absolutization of reason. The absolutization of reason—or even further, the absolutization of efficiency (to use a modern term)—which today has been elevated to supreme value, is regarded by Hellenic civilization as deviation and dead end. This understanding would later be expressed most fully by the great Cappadocian Fathers and by Saint Gregory Palamas. Human wisdom is clearly distinguished from divine wisdom. The created can analyze only the created. The uncreated is revealed only within divine grace. The God of the Christians is not grasped intellectually but reveals Himself freely within the salvific body of the Church.

(e) A central place in Hellenic civilization is held by the communal understanding and communal experience of truth. Heraclitus expressed that truth is realized through participation. The Hellene has always believed that only by sharing—both his goods and his very being—does he live in truth. This is expressed among others in warmth of manner, joy of coexistence, philotimo, and the proverbial Greek hospitality.

(f) A sine qua non characteristic of Hellenicity is its powerful capacity for assimilation and transformation. Hellenism not only affirms otherness but rapidly absorbs and creatively transforms whatever the outside world offers—ideas, goods, structures. One recalls here Chrysostom’s phrase: “What is not assumed is not healed.” Historically, however, Hellenism assimilated only those elements compatible with its identity and tradition, elements that would not distort its unique character. Tragically, over the past two centuries, serving foreign interests, the political and academic elite imposed institutions that not only fail to correspond to our identity but actively oppose it, gravely distorting the people’s innate sense of authenticity.

(g) Finally, we mention the universality of Hellenism. Hellenicity is not confined to the artificial borders of a protectorate-state or Balkan province, as some seek to impose. It is a soteriological reality that concerns every human person. But this reception must be mature—within freedom, love, and light—not an imposed, chaotic “multiculturalism” engineered deceitfully by the rulers of this dark age. Hellenism united with all peoples partially through the light of the Hellenic spirit, and fully through the uncreated light of the eternal Pentecost, with Christ Himself as Shepherd. From the incomplete universality of Alexander the Great to the true universality of Saint Paul and Constantine the Great. From ancient Hellenicity to the new Hellenicity: Romeosyne.

 

Δευτέρα 23 Φεβρουαρίου 2026

A Modern Lent

 

 
 

Fr. Stephen Freeman / Glory 2 God for all things 

Few things are as difficult in the modern world as fasting. It is not simply the action of changing our eating habits that we find problematic – it’s the whole concept of fasting and what it truly entails. It comes from another world.

We understand dieting – changing how we eat in order to improve how we look or how we feel. But changing how we eat in order to know God or to rightly keep a feast of the Church – this is foreign. Our first question is often, “How does that work?” For we live in a culture of utility – we want to know the use of things. Underneath the question of utility is the demand that something make sense to me, and that I be able to ultimately take charge of it, use it as I see fit and shape it according to my own desires. Perhaps the fast could be improved?

Our modern self-understanding sees people primarily as individual centers of choice and decision. A person is seen as the product of their choices and decisions – our lives are self-authenticated. As such, we are managers.

Of course there are many problems with this world-view from the perspective of Classical Christianity. Though we are free to make choices and decisions, our freedom is not unlimited. The largest part of our lives is not self-determined. Much of the rhetoric of modernity is aimed towards those with wealth and power. It privileges their stories and mocks the weakness of those without power with promises that are rarely, if ever, fulfilled.

Our lives are a gift from God and not of our own making. The Classical Christian spiritual life is not marked by choice and self-determination: it is characterized by self-emptying and the way of the Cross.

When a modern Christian confronts the season of Lent – the question often becomes: “What do I want to give up for Lent?” The intention is good, but the question is wrong. Lent quickly becomes yet another life-choice, a consumer’s fast.

The practice of the traditional fast has been greatly diminished over the past few centuries. The Catholic Church has modified its requirements and streamlined Lenten fasting (today it includes only abstaining from meat on the Fridays of Lent – which makes them similar to all the other Fridays of the year). The Protestant Churches that observe the season of Lent offer no formal guidelines for Lenten practice. The individual is left on their own.

Orthodoxy continues to have in place the full traditional fast, which is frequently modified in its application (the “rules” themselves are generally recognized as written for monastics). It is essentially a vegan diet (no meat, fish, wine, dairy). Some limit the number of meals and their manner of cooking. Of course, having the fast in place and “keeping the fast” are two very different things. I know of no study on how Orthodox in the modern world actually fast. My pastoral experience tells me that people generally make a good effort.

Does any of this matter? Why should Christians in the modern world concern themselves with a traditional practice?

What is at stake in the modern world is our humanity. The notion that we are self-authenticating individuals is simply false. We obviously do not bring ourselves into existence – it is a gift. And the larger part of what constitutes our lives is simply a given – a gift. It is not always a gift that someone is happy with – we would like ourselves to be other than we are. But the myth of the modern world is that we, in fact, do create ourselves and our lives – our identities are imagined to be of our own making. We are only who we choose to be. It is a myth that is extremely well-suited for undergirding a culture built on consumption. Identity can be had at a price. The wealthy have a far greater range of identities available to them – the poor are largely stuck with being who they really are.

But the only truly authentic human life is the one we receive as a gift from God. The spirituality of choice and consumption under the guise of freedom is an emptiness. The identity we create is an ephemera, a product of imagination and the market. The habits of the marketplace serve to enslave us – Lent is a call to freedom.

A Modern Lent

Thus, a beginning for a modern Lent is to repent from the modern world itself. By this, I mean renouncing the notion that you are a self-generated, self-authenticating individual. You are not defined by your choices and decisions, much less by your career and your shopping. You begin by acknowledging that God alone is Lord (and you are not). Your life has meaning and purpose only in relation to God. The most fundamental practice of such God-centered living is the giving of thanks.

  • Renounce trying to improve yourself and become something. You are not a work in progress. If you are a work – then you are God’s work. “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in” (Eph 2:10).
  • Do not plan to have a “good Lent” or imagine what a “good Lent” would be. Give up judging – especially judging yourself. Get out of the center of your world. Lent is not about you. It is about Christ and His Pascha.
  • Fast according to the Tradition instead of according to your own ideas and designs. This might be hard for some if they are not part of the traditional Church and thus have no fasting tradition. Most Catholics have differing rules for fasting than the Orthodox. If you’re Catholic, fast like a Catholic. Don’t admire other people’s fasting.

If you’re Protestant but would like to live more traditionally, think about becoming Orthodox. Short of that, covenant with others (family, friends) to keep the traditional fast. Don’t be too strict or too lenient, and if possible keep the fast in a manner that is mutually agreed rather than privately designed. Be accountable but not guilty.

  • Pray. Fasting without praying is called “the Fast of Demons,” because demons never eat, but they never pray. We fast as a means of drawing closer to God. Your fasting and your prayer should be balanced as much as possible. If you fast in a strict manner, then you should pray for extended periods. If you fast lightly, then your prayers may be lighter as well. The point is to be single – for prayer and fasting to be a single thing.
  • To our prayer and fasting should be added mercy (giving stuff away, especially money). You cannot be too generous. Your mercy should be as invisible as possible to others, except in your kindness to all. Spend less, give away more.

Eating, drinking, praying and generosity are very natural activities. Look at your life. How natural is your eating? Is your diet driven by manufactured, processed foods (especially as served in restaurants and fast food places)? These can be very inhuman ways of eating. Eating should take time. It is not a waste of time to spend as much as six hours in twenty-four preparing, sharing, eating and cleaning up. Even animals take time to eat.

  • Go to Church a lot more (if your Church has additional Lenten services, go to them). This can be problematic for Protestants, in that most Protestant worship is quite modern, i.e. focused on the individual rather than directed to God, well-meant but antithetical to worship. If your Church isn’t boring, it’s probably modern. This is not to say that Classical Christianity is inherently boring – it’s just experienced as such by people trained to be consumers. Classical Christianity worships according to Tradition and focuses its attention on God. It is not there for you to “get something out of it.”
  • Entertain yourself less. In traditional Orthodox lands, amusements are often given up during the Lenten period. This can be very difficult for modern people in that we live to consume and are thus caught in a cycle of pain and pleasure. Normal pleasures such as exercise or walking are not what I have in mind – although it strikes me as altogether modern that there should be businesses dedicated to helping us do something normal (like walking or exercising), such that even our normal activities become a commodity to consume.
  • Fast from watching/reading the news and having/expressing opinions. The news is not presented in order to keep you informed. It is often inaccurate and serves the primary purpose of political propaganda and consumer frenzy. Neither are good for the soul. Opinions can be deeply destructive to the soul’s health. Most opinions are not properly considered, necessary beliefs. They are passions that pass themselves off as thoughts or beliefs. The need to express them reveals their passionate nature. Though opinions are a necessary part of life – they easily come to dominate us. Reducing the need to express how we feel about everything that comes our way (as opposed to silently weighing and considering and patiently speaking what we know to be true) is an important part of ascesis and self-control.

I could well imagine that a modern person, reading through such a list, might feel overwhelmed and wonder what is left. What is left is being human. That so much in our lives is not particularly human but an ephemeral distraction goes far to explain much of our exhaustion and anxiety. There is no food  for us in what is not human.

And so the words of Isaiah come to mind:

Ho! Everyone who thirsts, Come to the waters; And you who have no money, Come, buy and eat. Yes, come, buy wine and milk Without money and without price. Why do you spend money for what is not bread, And your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, And let your soul delight itself in fatness (Isa 55:1-2).

“Let your soul delight itself in fatness…” the irony of Lent.

 

Τετάρτη 21 Ιανουαρίου 2026

Orthodox Psychotherapy — Road signs towards achieving in-Christ Thera

 

The famous book "Orthodox Psychotherapy" of the Metropolitan of Nafpaktos Hierotheos
 

Orthodox Outlet for Dogmatic Enquiries 

The term "Orthodox Psychotherapy" does not pertain to specific cases of people suffering from psychological problems or neuroses. Rather, it is something that pertains to all people. According to Orthodox Tradition, after Adam's fall, Man became ill; his intellect (called “dianoia”) was darkened and the mind (the “nous” or,  the "eye of the heart") lost communion with God. Death entered mankind's life thereafter, giving rise to many personal, anthropological, social, even ecological problems. With the tragedy of his fall, Man continued to be "in the image of God", but he had now completely forfeited the "likeness" of Him, as his communion with God was disrupted.

However, the Incarnation of Christ and His bodily presence among us, and the pursuant opus of the Church (which entails the in-Christ guidance by spiritually illuminated Saints and Fathers throughout Time) are both intended to assist a person to regain the "likeness" of God, that is, to restore his communion with God. By adhering to the Orthodox "therapeutic treatment" as proposed by the Holy Fathers of the Church, Man can succeed to "manage" his thoughts properly, thus solving his spiritual issues fully and comprehensively.

This "therapeutic regimen" of psycho-therapy (Greek: literally, therapy of the soul) is closely linked to the Church’s "neptic" tradition (sobriety) and Her hesychastic life (of "quietude") - as preserved in the texts of the Philokalia, in the works of the Fathers of the Church and notably in the teaching of Saint Gregory Palamas. Most certainly, one must not overlook the fact that the neptic and hesychastic ways of life are the same that one observes in the lives of the Prophets and the Apostles, as clearly described in the texts of the Holy Scriptures.

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Wherefore he who professes the science of spiritual medicine ought first of all to consider the disposition of him who has sinned, and to see whether he tends to health or (on the contrary) provokes to himself disease by his own behaviour, and to look how he can care for his manner of life during the interval. And if he does not resist the physician, and if the ulcer of the soul is increased by the application of the imposed medicaments, then let him mete out mercy to him according as he is worthy of it.

(Canon CII of the Quinisext Ecumenical Council)

 


LIST OF ARTICLES (by various authors)