On September 8, the Church sings that the Nativity of the Theotokos has “proclaimed joy to the whole universe”. It is easy enough to sing, but somewhat harder now for us to understand. Why, we may ask, did the birth of a baby girl in around 18 B.C. or so proclaim joy to the whole inhabited world?

In 1956 an American game show debuted called “To Tell the Truth”. Each round of the game introduced three people all claiming to be the same person, and a team of panelists would ask them questions. Those pretending to be the real (usually famous) person would make up answers, while the real person would answer truthfully. The inquiring panelists would then guess which was the real person. The host of the show would conclude by saying, “Will the real (name) please stand up?” and he or she would then stand up thereby revealing their identity and the accuracy of the panelists’ guesses.

In my Protestant days, I had no problem with anyone talking about Mary—so long as it was Christmas. On Boxing Day, that was it. Over. No more talking about Mary. What are we anyway, Catholics? It was understood that when we packed away the Nativity set, all talk of Mary got packed up along with it. And my proof that Bible-believing Christians should not talk about Mary? The New Testament never did. Well, hardly ever did—just long enough to narrate the Christmas story. Was she in the Acts of the Apostles? Not really. Was she in the Epistles? No. So there you go: no talking about Mary or calling her blessed.

Like many Orthodox clergy, I have lost track of the number of times my Protestant brethren have objected to the priestly title (in my case, “Father Lawrence”), citing the Bible which commands that they “call no man ‘Father’”. They are, of course, thinking of our Lord’s words in Matthew 23:9. If I am feeling puckish and mischievous, I sometimes respond with a simple denial, insisting, “No, the Bible doesn’t say that” just to wind them up and make the final riposte more satisfying. It is not particularly sanctified, but it is fun. What is the difference between “call no man ‘father’” and “call no man your father”? The difference is the difference between a title or form of address and a relationship.

Some heresies never seem to die, but have a disconcerting tendency to pop up in every generation, rather like the emerging heads of the whack-a-mole in the children’s game one sees in Chuck E. Cheese: whack them down as hard and often as you like, but they will pop up again someplace else.

I have been reading liberal theology since my college days—i.e. theologies which deny many, most, or all of the major tenets of the traditional Christian Faith. The theologies are as many and as varied as their authors, but they all share a conviction that Jesus of Nazareth didn’t say and do all the things which the New Testament recorded that He said and did, that the Gospels are not to be trusted as history, and that therefore the basic dogmas of the historical Church are wrong. The late Bishop John Spong (inset) is a modern and sterling example.

G. K. Chesterton wrote that he once left fairy tales lying on the floor of the nursery and hadn’t found any books so sensible since (from his Orthodoxy, “The Ethics of Elfland”). I suggest that Christianity is one such fairy tale, and also that it is a myth. But it is a fairy tale come true, and a myth that became a fact.

Today we begin a series on the use of the Old Testament in the early chapters of the Gospel of St. Matthew. We will examine his citations in his narrative of Christ’s birth, childhood and adulthood up to the time He settled in Capernaum, bringing a great light to the tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali and to all the world. St. Matthew (either the actual author of the Gospel or the one under whose blessing and authority it was first disseminated) took care to present Jesus as the fulfillment of the Hebrew Scriptures, the Old Testament, and by examining the use of the Old Testament in this Gospel we can see how deeply and creatively the Church used those Scriptures.

We continue our series examining St. Matthew’s citations of the Old Testament. Today we look at his citation of Micah 5:2. “In the Masoretic Hebrew it reads, “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are little to be among the clans of Judah, from you will come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.” The LXX reads similarly: “And you, Bethlehem, house of Ephrathah, you are very small to be in the thousands of Judah, from which for me will come out to be for a ruler of Israel, and his goings out are from the beginning, from the days of eternity.” It is all the more surprising therefore that St. Matthew’s version reads a little differently from either the Hebrew or the Greek. It reads, “And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you will come a ruler who will govern my people Israel.”

We continue our series examining St. Matthew’s citations of the Old Testament. Today we look at his citation of Jeremiah 31:15. It reads, “A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are not.” The LXX renders it more or less the same way, though the order of the chapters is different. In the LXX the text is found in Jeremiah chapter 38, not chapter 31. But the meaning of the text is the same.

We conclude our series examining St. Matthew’s citations of the Old Testament. Today we look at his citation of Isaiah 40:3, which reads, “A voice cries, ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of Yahweh! Make straight in the desert a highway for our God!”

Over two millenia there have, of course, been many papal claims, many of which Orthodoxy has always accepted. The claim to be the Patriarch of the West has proved unobjectionable to the East. The claim to be the primate of the Church is also unobjectionable, though this one requires some historical context. It is the claims explicated in detail at the First Vatican Council of 1870 that have proved the sticking point. But let us proceed slowly and carefully.

I cannot be the only one who has had the experience of visiting a non-Orthodox church service and finding it stunningly empty and plain. After long familiarity with Orthodox worship with its icons, incense, candles, vestments, Gospel books, and crosses, attending such services produces a kind of sensory deprivation, rather like sensory overload in reverse. Entering those churches and experiencing their services left me looking around almost madly for something focus and feed upon—some cross or image. But there was nothing: the walls were barren and empty, with not even a plaque with an inscribed Bible verse to relieve the sensory monotony. It is like bringing to your lips what you expected to be a cup of wine and finding it to contain tepid water: it’s okay, I suppose, but disappointing to the point of surprise and irritation.

A wise man once said "what we believe always remains intellectually possible, and never becomes intellectually compulsive. I have an idea," he said, "that when this ceases to be so, the world will be ending."

The feast whose season we now in is called “Theophany” or (in many places) “Epiphany”. This latter is not so much an English word as it is a transliteration of a Greek word, epiphaneia. It is often rendered “appearance” in the English versions, though this rendering can be misleading. One can have a small or insignificant appearance. For example, a person can have a brief cameo appearance in a movie (such as Alfred Hitchcock famously did in his movies), appearances so brief and insignificant as to be missed by inattentive eyes.

I note with no surprise whatsoever the news out of England, which is that the Church of England has decided to bless homosexual partnerships. This came after a compromise was struck last February following five years of debate about the church’s position on homosexuality and the inevitable apology offered for the church’s failure to welcome homosexuals.

In reflecting on the Sunday of the Last Judgment, the Very Rev. Dr Bogdan Bucur calls our attention to the difference between the Lord’s invitation to those at his right hand in Matthew 25.34: “Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world,” and the injunction to those on His left, “‘Depart from Me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matt 25.41). In this account of the last judgment, the difference between those on the right and the left is their deeds during their earthly lives. Fr Bogdan urges us to consider the concrete actions the Lord is expecting us to take during our time on this Earth to physically and practically minister to all those in need around us.

Now that Great Lent is upon us, the question sometimes arises about where we should put our spiritual focus. There are two places we should certainly not put our focus—and only one place where we should.

Thousands of years ago when I was an Evangelical Protestant in the Anglican Church, I never prayed to the saints or asked for their intercession. It was made quite clear to me by those around me that obedient Christians never did that and that prayer to the saints (especially to Mary) was idolatry of the worst sort and consequently provoked the ire of the Most High. Catholics, of course, prayed to Mary and the saints, but real Christians didn’t. Even when I got out more and grew a bit and realized Catholics were real Christians, I still was convinced that they shouldn’t pray to saints, and that prayer to the saints ran the risk of traffic with demons. So much for ecumenism!

The feast of the Ascension is a feast of comfort and consolation for the people of God. But it can for some people represent a stumbling block. Looking at the ascension of Christ as it is narrated in Scriptures, does the Church then really believe that accepting the Ascension also involves accepting a literal three-storey universe?

The method by which the Orthodox Church receives converts is a very controversial topic, and one which has provoked much online discussion. Should a convert be received by baptism, by chrismation alone, or perhaps simply after a recantation of previously-held errors? All three methods have been used in the past. And which groups should be received in which ways? Should the Oriental Orthodox (such as Copts and Armenians) be received in the same way as Pentecostals? What about Roman Catholics? The issue is far from clear, and has usually generated much more heat than light.

In this final episode on this topic, I would like to conclude my extended look at a Reformed view of predestination. There are certain aspects of it that fly in the face of much Biblical teaching.

Fr. Apostolos reminds us this Halloween season of the absolute and exclusive claims laid upon us by Jesus Christ.

Fr. Apostolos continues his homiletic series on prayer.

Fr. Apostolos begins a discussion of the Lord's Prayer.

Fr. Apostolos continues his discussion of the Lord's Prayer.

Fr. Apostolos explains that the Gospel message is the meaning of Christmas.

Fr. Apostolos reminds us that unless we see our salvation in the face of Christ, there is no particular reason for joy at Christmas.

Fr. Apostolos concludes his discussion of the Lord's Prayer.

Fr. Apostolos addresses parents' responsibility to rear their children in Church.

Fr. Apostolos discusses the final judgment of the human soul.

Fr. Apostolos addresses Christ's triumph through the elevation of the Cross.

Fr. Apostolos shares about St. Mary of Egypt and other "rascal" saints.

Fr. Apostolos talks about the difference that Christ's resurrection makes in our lives.

Fr. Apostolos shares about myrrh in the Old Testament, New Testament, and today. "We must become emblems of hope as we bear that sacred myrrh, that oil of healing to a broken world."

Fr. Apostolos speaks about the First Ecumenical Council and the importance of obedience to our spiritual fathers.

Fr. Apostolos addresses sin as the animating principle behind the blood-letting we are witnessing around the world. References are drawn primarily from the Prophet Isaiah whose insights are as relevant today as they were 2,700 years ago.

Fr. Apostolos speaks from the Gospel of St. John, chapter 3, "For God so loved the world...," exhorting us that "love alone is the surety of our doctrinal purity."

Fr. Apostolos shares about suffering on the Feast of the Universal Exaltation of the Holy Cross. He quotes an abbot, "The one who has suffered nothing in this life has been abandoned by God."

Referencing the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, Fr. Apostolos shares about suffering. "Suffering can make no sense to us unless we view it from an eternal perspective. Our suffering is made worse because we have lost the vision of the goal of suffering."