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Sunday, November 1, 2009
Parumala Thirumeni - Saint Gregorios Geevarghese Chathuruthy - Patron Saint of the Malankara Jacobite Syrian Orthodox Church
107th Dukrono of ST. GREGORIOS GEEVARGHESE CHATHURUTHY
107th Dukrono of
ST. GREGORIOS GEEVARGHESE CHATHURUTHY
Parumala Thirumeni
d. November 3, 1902
On November 3rd, 2009, falls the 107th dukrono of Saint Gregorios Geevarghese Chathuruthy (Parumala Thirumeni), one of the most revered fathers of the Syrian Church and the first declared Indian saint whose name is remembered in the 5th Tubden.
It was 161 years before on 15th June 1948 that the holy father St. Gregorios was born in the distinguished priestly family of 'Pallathattu Thanagattu' in the village of Mulunthuruthy near Cochin, India on 15th June 1848. He was baptized by name Geevarghese (George) at the Mulanthuruthy Mar Thoman Church. From childhood days he followed a very disciplined life which was enriched by prayer and fasting. 'Kochaipora' as he was known in those days, had a deep fascination towards Syriac, the liturgical language of the Syriac Orthodox Church. His extraordinary ability to sing Syriac hymns beautifully & perfectly came to the notice of his uncle (father's brother) Kassisso Geevarghese Malpan who was an authority in Syriac and a celibate priest. Impressed by his nephews' extraordinary divine qualities Kassisso Geevarghese gave proper guidance to him. The other two personalities who had greatly influenced young Geevarghese were Kassisso Geevarghese Malpan Konattu (later Geevarghese Mor Julius) and St. Yuyakkim Mor Koorilos Bava, the Syrian Metropolitan who was the Reesh Episcopa to Malankara.
The later years the Malankara church was witnessing the emergence of a great monk who through continuous prayers, made it clear to the world that Prayer and devotion is mightier than any worldly possession.
The Holy Father's short life was remarkable in many respects. A deacon at the age of 10, a priest at the age of 18, a bishop at the young age of 28 (the reason for calling him 'Kochu Thirumeni'); he passed away at the age of 54 on 3rd November 1902, after a saintly life of prayer to become the brightest jewel of the Universal Syrian Church.
For more on the life and times of our holy father,
ST. GREGORIOS OF MALANKARA
visit our exclusive website launched in November 2001
http://www.ParumalaThirumeni.org
source: http://www.syrianchurch.org/
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Orthodox Ascetical Wisdom: The significance of Humility
By Bryan Stiles
Humility is a door, among many others in the great labyrinth, which leads us to our divinization, so that we may become little Christs. Without overcoming ourselves, accepting our faults, submitting everything to the Lord…such a door could not be opened, therefore becoming a tiring obstacle in our wake. Our world, our America is a culture of egotism and the importance of self. It is a temptation that wants us to feel on top of the world, infallible and glorifiable - even though our sinful nature speaks the contrary. Our minds become distorted and our eyes misty, clouding the way to the path of Christ. I have seen too often people seek self-satisfaction in whatever they think and do or lie to maintain their pompous egotism. Such worldliness deprives us of what is the most important; such love for our earthly bodies and persona stray us away from the Good Lord.
Consulting the wisdom of Staretz* (Qashisho) Silouan of Mt Athos, we find he speaks on humility.
"Understand me. It is so simple. People who do not know God, or who go against Him, are to be pitied: the heart sorrows for them and the eye weeps....where there is pride there cannot be grace, and if we lose grace we also lose both love of God and assurance in prayer. The soul is then tormented by evil thoughts and does not understand that he must humble himself and love his enemies, for there is no other way to please God." (Material from Wisdom From Mount Athos: The Writings of Staretz Silouan 1866-1838, by Archimandrite Sophrony) **
Let us dwell on this wisdom, step by step: “People who do not know God, or who go against Him, are to be pitied: the heart sorrows for them and the eye weeps…where there is pride there cannot be grace…” Wherefore do we get off telling ourselves that we are TRULY good? “No one is good, except God alone”, said the Divine Lord. Pride is the toxin of the soul. The holy Fathers advise us to keep the heart pure from all impulses, feelings and fantasies of self, whatever they may be. But what do we do? We always fall back into the temptation of self-confidence. This self-confidence is a hazardous aspect in our earthly life. What we need to do is recognize that we are weak, wholly incapable of resisting the lure of the dominion of Satan. The less we rely on our delusional self-strength, and take on the reliance upon our Lord, the more we are able to stand.
“…and if we lose grace we also lose both love of God and assurance in prayer.” To lose such is a tragedy for a soul. We need complete reliance upon the Lord, for if we make the Lord, and not our own egotism, our protection, we will be ensured that the devil himself will not succeed in his temptation:
My God, in Him I will trust.”
3 Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler[a]
And from the perilous pestilence.
4 He shall cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings you shall take refuge;
His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
(Psalm 91)
Even if we fall on this journey, which is quite possible given our nature, one must not be rueful over that fact we failed; that surely demonstrates one is pining over the fact that they failed to meet their own selves. That would then prove to us that only our self-reliance has been hurt. So that we may NOT lose the love He has bestowed upon His Church, the focus of work should be that we are sinners and that we need to put all our trust in God. He who does what the Lord has advised us to do, thanks God for rescuing him from sinking any lower into the self-cult of arrogance.
“The soul is then tormented by evil thoughts and does not understand that he must humble himself and love his enemies, for there is no other way to please God.” What other way can we please God than by following the character of His Son?
“7 but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.” (Philippians 2:7-8)
The Eternal and Divine Son of God took the form of Man, subscribing Himself to a most humble form. He endured extreme humility for the sake of the world, by suffering, being mocked, and dying for the sins of mankind. What can we, Creation, do to live out our New Hope in the Ressurection? Pray God to forgive us and not again to allow us to be reckless, unwary, disobedient, and independent. Pray for grace and mercy and love that He who is All-Compassionate may help us abstain from falling back on our darker half.
I implore all who read this to not be tempted into taking what may seem the easy road, which encompasses accepting the temptation of Satan and the glorification of self. Pride, arrogance, haughtiness, and self-importance are all gems of the conceited man, which solicit what may seem an easy, comfortable life. Yet, what more is richer than glorifying others and the Lord? What more is satisfying than denying ourselves and taking up our cross? It sure beats what the other choice offers and the end result therein.
As the Nativity of Our Most Blessed Yoldath-Aloho (Theotokos) comes into view, let us pray that we may not follow the way of Adam, when he placed the blame upon Eve and the devil. Let us all accept the faults of ourselves and the mistakes that we have made and continue to make, so that each of us may never repeat the situation of Adam – for who wants to be outside the gates of Paradise?
*Staretz: A Russian term for the Syriac: Qashisho; Elder / Presbyrter; also meaning, "a spiritual guide."
*The Writings of St. Silouan the Athonite from Mt. Athos
St. Silouan the Athonite
source: http://www.socdigest.org/articles/03sep05.html
Monasticism and the way of radical peace
by Mother Raphaela
On this earth, peace is not an end in itself. We do not believe in an earthly utopia. There will be disagreements, violence, terrorism and wars until the end of time, for the prince of this world is still allowed to be active. As Orthodox Christians, rather than seeking peace, we are meant to seek the Lord first, and then He gives His peace to fill our lives.
In my own experience as a monastic, I find that there are several levels we have to deal with if we are going to find peace. I have heard monastics from other communities echo our own experience. In the middle of a time of incredible struggle and tension, with sisters at odds with each other and everything seeming to go wrong, visitors will arrive for a few hours or days and leave with the remark that they have found the monastery “so peaceful.” Of course in some instances this may be because the sisters have learned to behave nicely no matter what emotions and thoughts they may be hiding, but I believe it is something more than that. One of the great joys and inspirations of monastic life is to be living with people of enormous good will who truly want to be all that God wants them to be. It is amazing how such good-willed people can still offend each other, but we certainly do. If one perseveres in this life, one soon learns the sometimes bizarre lengths the devil and his minions will go to in order to cause divisions and strife in the monastery.
The “secret,” if there is one, to surviving in this environment, is never to forget that the others are good-willed; that each person is loving and striving to the utmost. Many of the monastic writers say that we should always consider others to be better than ourselves and I have found this to be very practical advice. If each woman remembers this, if she faces the struggle with the demons within herself without getting side-tracked by obsessing on what others should be like or should or should not be doing, then peace can and does reign.
This does not mean pretending hurtful behaviors and words have not been witnessed. It does mean not judging other’s motives and not holding on to grudges. It means forgiving one another from the heart “seventy times seven” each day and being willing to accept that same forgiveness for ourselves while realizing that we may be mistaken in our assessment of others and of situations.
As Orthodox Christians, we are called to spiritual warfare with all the weapons God has given us in the Church. As we persevere in this life of warfare, giving up all physical weapons of violence, we discover other levels of violence within ourselves. We do not need bombs or guns or missiles in order to kill. As each of us faces the venom within ourselves that slips out either intentionally or unintentionally in sullen looks, resentful words and hurtful actions, we may sometimes feel that the physical warfare of others may be less harmful in the eternal scheme of things. Yet no one, with the exception of the Lord Himself and His blessed Mother, has been free from this kind of sin.
I would say from my own experience that some of the angriest people I have met (and at one point I would definitely have included myself in that category) are unable to see their own anger. They become furious at the mere suggestion that they might be angry! They see themselves as very nice people — or at least as justified in their anger. We see this often in places like monasteries. People who have not faced their anger and find themselves stripped of their usual comforts and self-willed ways of doing things, can begin to act out — sometimes even in physically violent ways. But because they cannot take responsibility for their own anger, they will blame the monastery: I’m such a good, nice person. This monastery and these sisters must be evil (or today probably the word would be “sick”) because they are forcing me to act this way.
No one can force us to act out in anger. It is our own response, more or less conscious, depending on how responsible we are for our lives.
For most of us, it takes years and years before we can become fully responsible, able and willing to say: “Yes, I was angry; I did say (or do) that; I did mean to hurt that person; I’m sorry; please forgive me” — even when we believe that the other person meant to hurt us first. As we become like Christ, we come to see that retaliation is not the answer. Humanly speaking, we cannot rise above such hurts, but when we admit our powerlessness and are willing to accept the grace of Christ and grow beyond our fallen nature into His divine nature, then we also can say: “Father, forgive them.” Even when they themselves may not want or ask for that forgiveness. We forgive, not to get the final moral victory over our opponent, but in order to make room for the Lord and His peace in our hearts. We have to do this. We have to be willing radically to let go of others so they also can fall into the hands of the living God. How often do our best efforts to fix others and situations result rather in substituting our own fallen and limited solutions for the power of our all-powerful God?
This willingness to let go in love and forgiveness is the real power of martyrdom and the reason why monasticism has been called at times the way of “White martyrdom.” We give up ourselves completely, trusting that God will be able to act through us even by — or perhaps most especially by — our death — or the death of our cherished dreams. Any other motive for martyrdom, the kind born of hatred, desire for justification or revenge, etcetera, simply adds to the escalating violence — as we see so clearly in the Middle East now.
When we haven’t dealt with the roots of our anger, while we may be able to put a lid on it in certain situations, it will sit there building up steam to explode through another vent when we aren’t looking. Thus the phenomenon of the loving husband and father who is a vicious boss — or the other way around: someone who is absolutely charming at work or in church or other outside social settings, but is transformed into a monster by walking through the front door at home. I’ve heard stories from children of well-respected professionals such as doctors and even clergy, of their cowering in the closets until they knew what mood mommy or daddy would be in when they came home.
Once we have admitted our own inner anger and violence, we must pray and use every means the Lord puts at our disposal to come to terms with it. The disciplines of the monastic life aim at helping us to cut out this kind of anger. We have the opportunity to pray daily; to hear in the services the stories of others who have conquered through love and forgiveness; to be fed by the Lord’s own life of love and forgiveness through the Eucharist, to admit to our own sins and failings and receive the healing of confession; to read books by the saints as well as by contemporary professionals which can help us to understand where our own anger is coming from and how best to cut it out by the roots. And perhaps even more importantly, we have the opportunity to live very closely with other women whom we did not choose for any romantic association — strong women from many very different backgrounds. This is the arena where we learn to fight — using our anger rightly — against the thoughts and feelings that threaten to destroy us from within with a death far more deadly than any lion in the coliseum.
Looking beyond this arena of our daily life, today especially we are confronted with a world seemingly driven by anger. While it is true that many of us would hope our country would always be pure and holy and acting from Orthodox Christian principles, we need to face the fact that this did not happen even under the holy emperors of Byzantium and Moscow.
If we as Orthodox Christians cannot have unity of heart, soul and mind, how can we be surprised at or judge others who do not have the spiritual riches given to us for our salvation in the Church? The Lord said: “But I say to you that every one who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother shall be liable to the council, and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ shall be liable to the hell of fire.” (Mt 5:22) I would submit that it is a far greater sin for Orthodox to engage in party spirit, whether it be on the level of party politics or ethnic-jurisdictional differences or within jurisdictions, which seminary or monastery is “more truly orthodox,” than it is for Jewish Israelis and Moslem Arabs to be killing one another with external weapons of violence. “He who did not know, and did what deserved a beating, shall receive a light beating. Every one to whom much is given, of him will much be required; and of him to whom men commit much they will demand the more.” (Luke 12:48)
The only “label” I want to wear is that of an Orthodox Christian monastic. I will not try to define myself otherwise. For this reason, my approach to this topic has been to look to Jesus Christ as the only Way to both true monasticism and true, radical peace.
The more we try to sustain our own ideas about things, including what it means to be a monastic as well as a pacifist apart from God’s reality, the less our attempts to grow into His calling for us and to live with the peace that only He can give will be blessed with His providential empowerment.
I found that the Revised Standard Version of the Bible lists 426 references to the word “peace,” beginning with Genesis 15:15 “As for yourself [referring to Patriarch Abraham], you shall go to your fathers in peace; you shall be buried in a good old age” and ending with Revelation 6:4 “And out came another horse, bright red; its rider was permitted to take peace from the earth, so that men should slay one another; and he was given a great sword.”
I was struck by these “bookend” references. The first suggests the nice, almost cozy type of peace our world would seem prefer. To quote the Litany of Supplication: “That we may complete the remaining time of our life in peace and repentance,” finding a “painless, blameless and peaceful” ending to our life. And without this type of peace at least for some people, for some of the time in some places, life on this planet earth would be unbearable.
The second reference from Revelation gives us the other picture we face all too often in our world: God has permitted peace to be taken from the earth that men should slay one another. This is the other side of the reality we live with and if it is all that we live with, we can be driven to despair and insanity.
The literary genre begun by Tolkien’s Ring Trilogy is so immensely appealing to people, I believe, because it plays on these two contrasting themes. The hero (or band of heroes) is called to go on an epic, often super-human quest through incredible dangers, treachery, violence, warfare and ultimate tests of strength, intelligence and endurance. And this quest is necessarily interspersed with interludes of comforting peace.
The word “peace,” of course, comes from the Latin word, pax, whose root is pacisi, to agree. Without friends and supporters who in some way agree with us; with whom we share a unity of mind and soul, we can begin to doubt our sanity. Those who find themselves surrounded by constant doubt and disagreement can persevere, but only through a strong, living relationship with the Lord Who is the source of all unity, agreement and therefore, peace.
I’m sure reference must have been made to the difference between real unity and peace and superficial agreements.
I would submit that any peace, to be a true peace, must be literally comforting. We have lost the root meaning of the word in our common speech — coming from the Latin word, fortis, meaning strength, modified with the prefix com, meaning together, we understand that at their best, times of peace and comfort are meant to give us the strength and courage we need to return to our God-given, demanding tasks. “Comfort, comfort my people, says the Lord,” in the prophecy of Isaiah.
Yet for us — and here is where I think we can see the danger of trying to set up definitions apart from God’s reality — comfort has degenerated to visions of soft pillows and blankets, easy chairs and walking shoes that may indeed help us to find necessary relaxation, yet may also tempt us away from our higher calling and enervate us rather than strengthen us.
And I think this is the difficulty with some approaches to pacifism. If peace for someone means being unendingly comfortable, in the common usage of that word, then I believe that person has misunderstood the nature of peace. And I believe a peace based on this assumption will not be able to stand.
Mother Raphaela is the Abbess of Holy Myrrhbearers Monastery in Otego, New York, a stavropighial monastery for women of the Orthodox Church in America. She is the author of two books, Living in Christ, Essays on the Christian Life by an Orthodox Nun
, and Growing in Christ
, both published by St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press. Her monastery website is holymyrrhbearers.com. Her paper was presented at the Orthodox Peace Fellowship conference at St. Tikhon’s Monastery in June 2003.
Copyright by the author.
source: http://incommunion.org/articles/issue-30/monasticism-and-the-way-of-radical-peace
Friday, October 30, 2009
A Vision of Saint Nikodemos of the Holy Mountain
In this video Father Paul Jaroslaw, an Orthodox priest from Homer, Alaska, relates a story from the life of Saint Nikodemos of the Holy Mountain.
The scenes in this video are from the Holy Monastery of Simonopetra on the Holy Mountain in Greece, and the chanting is done by the monastic brotherhood of the Holy Monastery of Vatopaidi, also on the Holy Mountain.
Father Lazarus Moore on Hinduism
This video is a section from a lecture by the British Russian Orthodox Hieromonk Archimandrite Lazarus Moore. It was recorded in 1983. Father Lazarus died in 1992.
There is no better teacher than Death: Teachings and Lessons from the Grave
by Bryan Stiles
The title of this essay is deliberately provocative, meant to bluntly establish that, however morbid it may seem to one individual, the grave is truly one of our most tangible spiritual teachers in this realm. The first stanza of this title, first promulgated by St. Cosmas Aitolos, testifies to Orthodoxy's rich tradition, that death is a viable guide for our theosis. Even if we look throughout the various components of Orthodoxy, we find death to be a very eminent, re-occuring, and transformative trait. Throughout the centuries, men have pondered on what lies beyond the grave, yet neglected to focus on the very foundation of such a journey. Too often we spend day-dreaming our personal fantasies concerning heaven, indulging in our self-delusions, and give little credence to what could happen to us tomarrow or this very hour. This consequently gives rise to the greediness that often prevails among Earth's societies today - and this, this intrinsic flaw in our very nature, will be our main focus.
Let us first recall a relevant story, from an Athonite Gerontikon. A monk approached his elder, inquiring the already 100 year-old man, "Now that you will depart from this temporary life, what do you feel?" The wise and frail elder replied, saying "I feel such happiness and tranquility, as if I am going to a wedding."
Unfortunately, this type of euphoria concerning death is often lost in the common world. Especially within the diaspora, facing all Orthodox Christians of all jurisdictional backgrounds, one finds indulgence in the flesh around every corner. The reason why I say this euphoria is so rare, is because its antithesis reigns supreme over the general populous! It is indeed very hard to focus on death and the grave when we find ourselves already pre-occupied with sin and the passions therein (albeit, with our natural tendancy to flout our chest and become proud, this realization may not all the time be clear). So to re-adjust our lenses, we must take a multi-path course. I propose that we, sinful and despiseful as we are, first must take a look at those who have become "dead" to the world (i.e. monastics and clergy). Furthermore, through their sufferings, wisdom, and continual reflection over death, we may come to understand for ourselves the importance of death and what we must do now to prepare for our earthly departure. However, there is also a very direct connection in which we can realize this more clearly.
Imagine you are walking along the road, with cars passing by. There is no sidewalk in which you are strolling along, and you have little space on the shoulder of the road between the brush to your right and the rushing cars to your left. Your heart races and sweat surfaces on your forehead. Something hits your stomach as a stark realization comes to mind: "Wow, there is a definite possibility that I could get hit and die at any moment."
Well, I dont intend to paint such a terrifying picture. And no, I'm not saying that we should keep fear upon our mind constantly. What I'm saying is that everday incidents and possibilities could take us in our present state - without having any moment to repent of our sins in the day. Therefore, what we need to keep in our heart is not fear of impending danger but sincere repentence, BECAUSE of these possiblities in the world. To instill within ourselves this obedience of love, prayer, and repentence, I ask to turn to my initial example of the monastics - and what we call, joyful mourning.
Monastics are a beautiful example, a shining beacon that show us how we really need to act as Orthodox Christians. Just by the fact that they adorn themselves in black reminds us of their dedication to keep death upon their mind - and the benevolence and inexhaustible mercy of Our Lord. By keeping their death upon their mind, and their hopeful meeting with the Lord, they keep the words of "O God have Mercy upon me a sinner," upon their tounges every minute of the day. With each step, with each breath they sigh with a joyful mourning that both makes them look forward to the grave, by their continual repentence.
The holy St. Isaac of Syria once wrote, "Let us love silence till the world is made to die in our hearts. Let us always remember death, and in this thought draw near to God in our heart -- and the pleasures of this world will have our scorn." When we seek out the countenence of the Lord by dwelling upon the grave in this sincere repentence, we truly come closer to Him. We become aware of our mortality and our frailty as humans, and that truly brings us to our knees. Because in this instance, falling upon your face in the face of death, towards the Lord, is equal to ascending to Heaven.
This is the paradox of Orthodoxy: death brings life; darkness is light; mourning in joy; the dead speak with more wisdom than do the brightest teachers on earth. We are to look to the grave, see what our predecessors have done, and use them as a rule, accompanied by Holy Scripture and Tradition, to ascend higher in theosis. Whether they lived a rotten or holy life, let us look to the dead and use their examples so we may be found worthy in the sight of the Lord.
May God have mercy on us all. Amen.
source: http://www.socdigest.org/articles/08oct06.html
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