The Fear of God, by Eugene Rose

Eugene Rose  Lay Sermon  Aug. 1964

St. Seraphim of Sarov, in his “Spiritual Instructions” speaks of the “fear of God” and how it is the first absolute necessity for anyone who wishes to lead a true Christian life.  It is profitable to be reminded of this since it is all too easy for Christians to take for granted God’s love and mercy and forget with what care were are commanded to serve Him.  The words of the Psalmist, said St. Seraphim, must be engraved on the mind of every Orthodox Christian: “Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling”, as well as the strong warning of the prophet: “Cursed be he that doeth the work of the Lord negligently”.

Enemies of the Church of Christ have quoted such passages to accuse Christians of believing in a ‘religion of fear.”  But they, having renounced God, are incapable of understanding this Godly fear of ours.  It is a fear based upon the nature of God we worship.  The Apostle exhorts us “to serve God acceptable with reverence and Godly fear: for our God is a consuming fire.”  St. Seraphim of Sarov also spoke often of God as a fire; and if the impure and unbelieving can only be burned by this fire, Christians who approach God with reverence and faith become filled with an indescribable warmth and joy and love.  If then we fear God, it is because we know His greatness and our own smallness, how that we are cold and empty, truly nothing, without Him; and our fear is the care we take to serve Him Who is our only happiness, so that He will not depart from us in our unworthiness and carelessness, but will always dwell near us. 

He who is filled with this fear has no other fear, not even of the devil himself.  “Do not fear the devil,” said St. Seraphim.  “He who fears God will overcome the devil; for him the devil is powerless.”  True fear of God means absolute trust in Him and love for Him, and one who possesses these is prepared for every good work; nothing is impossible to him. Every fervent Christian knows from experience the truth of the words: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” [Proverbs 9:10].

Concerning Hope

[From the Spiritual Instructions of St. Seraphim]

All who have firm hope in God are raised up to Him and enlightened by the radiance of the eternal light” wrote St. Seraphim of Sarov in his “Spiritual Instructions”. 

If a man has no care whatever for himself because of love for God and virtuous deeds, knowing that God will take care of him, such hope is true and wise. But if a man takes care for his own affairs and turns with prayer to God only when unavoidable misfortunes overtake him and he sees no way of averting them by his own power, only then beginning to hope in God’s aid, - such hope is vain and false. True hope seeks the Kingdom of God alone and is convinced that everything earthly that is necessary for this transitory life will unfailingly be given.

The heart cannot have peace until it acquires this hope. It gives peace to the heart and brings joy into it. Concerning this hope the most holy lips of the Saviour have said: “Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” That is, have hope in Me, and you will have relief from labour and fear.

In the Gospel of Luke it is said of Simeon: “And it was revealed unto him by the Holy Spirit, that he should not see death, before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.” And he did not lose his hope, but awaited the desired Saviour of the world and, joyfully taking Him into his arms, said: “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart into Thy kingdom, which I have desired, for I have obtained my hope – Christ the Lord.

Weeping Icons of Theotokos, by Eugene Rose

Eugene Rose  Lay Sermon  Nov. 1966

Weeping Icons of the Mother of God

Of all the many ways in which the All-Holy Mother of God reveals Her mercies to men, there is one that stands out both as being undeniable (for it is a completely objective phenomenon) and as touching the heart in a most immediate way.  This is the phenomenon of weeping icons, in which images of the Mother of God produce tears that are exact replicas, on the scale of the icon, of human tears – originating in a corner of the eye and coursing the side of the face, sometimes as distinct miniature teardrops, sometimes as a flood of tears that moistens the whole face. 

America too, so late to receive Holy Orthodoxy, is now the witness of this miraculous phenomenon.  Three weeping icons appeared quite suddenly, one after the other, within two months in the spring of 1960 among Greek families in Long Island, New York.   The striking nature of this sign has drawn considerable attention to these icons, especially among Orthodox believers, but also among those outside the Church. 

It is not, perhaps, well-known that this phenomenon of weeping icons is not new, for there are records of such miraculous icons in Russian Church history as early as the 12th century.  Here we will give an account of one from the 19th century, together with an interpretation of its meaning by a bishop who lived at that time.  [From The Orthodox Word, Nov.-Dec. 1965].

This icon was located in the church of the Theological Academy at the Sokolsky Monastery in Romania.  After the Liturgy in the seminary church on February 1, 1854, it was noticed that the icon was weeping.  The rector of the seminary, Bishop Philaret Skriban, was among the witnesses of this miracle.  He took the icon out of its frame, looked at it carefully, wiped the traces of the tears off with a piece cloth and replaced the icon.   He then asked all to leave and he locked the church.  When the rector, together with the teachers and seminarians, came to the church for Vespers several hours later, all were struck by the same miraculous flow of tears from the eyes of the Mother of God.  The rector immediately served a moleben and read an Akathistos before the icon. 

Soon all of Romania knew of the miracle and began streaming to the monastery to venerate the icon.  News of it spread throughout Russia also.  The miraculous flow of tears occurred sometimes daily, and sometimes with an interval of two, three of four days.  Many were thus to see the very miracle of the icon weeping, and those who did not could see at least the traces left by the tears.  Even skeptics became convinced of the miracle.  A certain colonel was sent to the commanding officer of the Austrian occupation force (during the Crimean war) to investigate the rumoured miracle, and to his astonishment he witnessed the actual flow of tears. 

An important testimony of the miracle was offered by Bishop Melchisedek of Romansk, one of its first witnesses. Thirty-five years after the event he spoke of how he had long pondered the question of the meaning of the tears of the Mother of God.  He came to the conclusion that such weeping icons had existed also in ancient times and that such an event always foretold a severe trial for the Church of Christ and for the nation.  History justified this conclusion in the case of the Romanian weeping icon.  During the Crimean war the Principality of Moldavia was occupied by Austrian troops and subjected to severe trials.  The Sokolsky Monastery in particular had a sad future: this formerly great religious center of Romania, serving for a hundred years as a seedbed of spiritual culture, was suppressed, the seminary moved elsewhere and the monks dispersed. 

The meaning of the weeping icons of America today is not yet evident; at least one of them is still weeping after five years.   What is certain is that these tears of the Mother of God speak directly to the heart of every Orthodox believer, calling all to repentance, amendment of life and return to Orthodox faith and tradition in their fullness.

Transfiguration, by Eugene Rose 1966

Eugene Rose  Lay Sermon  Aug. 1966

The Transfiguration of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Thou was transfigured upon the mount, O Christ our God, 

showing they glory to Thy Disciples as far as they could bear it; 

may Thy everlasting Light illumine also us sinners

by the prayers of the Mother of God.  

O Giver of Light, Glory to Thee

[Troparion of the Feast, Tone 4]

Forty days before He was delivered to an ignominious death for our sins, our Lord revealed to three of His disciples the glory of His Divinity. “And after six days Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John his brother and bringeth them up into a high mountain apart; and was transfigured before them: and His face did shine as the sun, and His raiment was white as the light” (Matt. 17:1-2). This was the event to which our Lord was referring when He said: “There will be some standing here which shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of Man coming in His Kingdom” (Matt. 16:28). By this means the faith of the disciples was strengthened and prepared for the trial of our Lord’s approaching passion and death; and they were enabled to see in it not mere human suffering, but the entirely voluntary passion of the Son of God.

The disciples saw also Moses and Elias taking with our Lord, and thereby they understood that He was not Himself Elias or another of the prophets, as some thought, but someone much greater: He Who could call upon the Law and the Prophets to be His witnesses, since He was the fulfillment of both.  The three parables of the feast concern the appearance of God to Moses and Elias on Mount Sinai, and it is indeed appropriate that the greatest God-seers of the Old Testament should be present at the glorification of the Lord in His New Testament, seeing for the first time His humanity, even as the disciples were seeing for the first time His Divinity.

The Transfiguration, counted by the Church as one of the twelve great feasts, had an important place in the Church calendar already in the 4th century, as the homilies and sermons of such great Fathers as St. John Chrysostome, St. Ephraim of Syria, and St. Cyril of Alexandria attest; its origins go back to the first Christian centuries. In the 4th century also, St. Helena erected a church on Mount Tabor, the traditional site of the Transfiguration, dedicated to the feast. Although the event celebrated in the feast occurred in the month of February, 40 days before the Crucifixion, the feast was early transferred to August, because its full glory and joy could not be fittingly celebrated amid the sorrow and repentance of the Great Lent. The sixth day of August was chosen as being 40 days before the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross (September 14th), when Christ’s Passion is again remembered.

Orthodox theology sees in the Transfiguration a prefiguration of our Lord’s Resurrection and His Second Coming, and more than this – since every event of the Church calendar has an application to the individual spiritual life – of the transformed state in which Christians shall appear at the end of the world, and in some measure even before then. In the foreshadowing of future glory which is celebrated in this feast, the Holy Church comforts its children by showing them that after the temporary sorrows and deprivations with which this earthly life is filled, the glory of eternal blessedness will shine forth; and in it even the body of the righteous will participate.

It is a pious Orthodox custom to offer fruits to be blessed at this feast; and this offering of thanksgiving to God contains a spiritual sign, too. Just as fruits ripen and are transformed under the action of the summer sun, so is man called to a spiritual transfiguration through the light of God’s word by means of the Sacraments. Some saints (for example, St. Seraphim of Sarov), under the action of this life-giving grace, have shone bodily before men even in life with this same uncreated Light of God’s glory; and that is another sign to us of the heights to which we, as Christians, are called and the state that awaits us – to be transformed in the image of Him Who was transfigured on Mount Tabor.

Transfiguration, by Eugene Rose 1985

Eugene Rose  Lay Sermon  Aug. 1965

by St. Ephraem the Syrian.

"And after six days Jesus taketh unto Him Peter, James, and John, his brother, and bringeth them up into a high mountain apart, and He was transfigured before them: and His face did shine as the sun, and His garments became white as snow.

The men whom Christ had said would not taste death until they should see the form and the foreshadowing of His Coming are these three Apostles, whom having taken with Him He brought to a mountain, and showed them in what manner He was to come on the last day: in the glory of His Divinity, and in the body of His Humanity.

He led them up to the mountain that He might also reveal to them Who this Son is, and Whose Son is He. For when He asked them: “Whom do men say that the Son of man is?” they said to Him: “Some Elias, some other Jeremiah, or one of the prophets.” And so He led them up into a high mountain, and showed them that He was not Elias, but the God of Elias; nor was He Jeremiah, but He that had sanctified Jeremiah in his mother’s womb; nor one of the prophets, but the Lord of the prophets, and He that had sent them.

And He showed them also that He was the creator of heaven and earth, and the Lord of the living and the dead; for He spoke to the heavens, and they sent down Elias; He made a sign to the earth, and raised Moses to life again.

He took the Apostles up into a high mountain apart, that He might also show them the glory of His Divinity, and that He might declare Himself the Redeemer of Israel, as He had been foretold by the Prophets, and so that they would not be scandalized in Him in the passion He had taken upon Himself and which for our sakes He was about to suffer in His human nature. For they knew Him as the son of Mary, and as a man sharing their daily life in the world. On the mountain He revealed to them that He was the Son of God, and Himself God.

He took them therefore up to the mountain that He might show them His Kingdom before they witnessed His suffering and death, and His glory became His ignominy; so that when He was made a prisoner and condemned by the Jews, they might understand that He was not crucified by them because of His own powerlessness, but because it had pleased Him of His goodness to suffer, for the salvation of the world.

He brought them up to the mountain that He might also show them, before His Resurrection, the glory of His Divinity, so that when He had risen from the dead they might then know that He had not received this glory as the reward of His labor, but that He had it from all eternity, together with the Father and the Holy Spirit.

The disciples upon the mountain beheld two suns: one, to which they were accustomed, shining in the sky; and Another, to which they were unaccustomed, which shone for them alone - the face of Jesus before them. And His garments appeared to them white as light: for the glory of His Divinity poured forth from His whole body, and all His members radiated light.

And there appeared to them Moses and Elias talking with Him:

And this was the manner of their speech with Him: they gave thanks to Him that their own words had been fulfilled, and together with them the words of all the Prophets. They adored Him for the salvation He had wrought in the world for mankind, and because He had in truth fulfilled the mystery which they had themselves foretold. The Prophets therefore were filled with joy, and the Apostles likewise, in their ascent of the mountain. The Prophets rejoiced because they had seen His Humanity, which they had not known. And the Apostles rejoiced because they had seen the glory of His Divinity, which they had not known.

Christian Love, by Eugene Rose

Eugene Rose  Lay Sermon  Sept 1963

Christian Love

Of no subject did our Lord and His Apostles speak more often than of love; love is the very foundation of the Christian life.  “God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him” (I Jn 4:16).  It is the greatest commandment of our Lord, and the chief sign of his followers.  “A new commandment I give unto you: that you love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.  By this shall all men know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one to another” (Jn 13:34-35).

Today, when the spirit of Antichrist prevails in the world, men again speak of love; many who call themselves Christians cooperate with unbelievers and pagans thinking to build a “new age” of “brotherly love” and “peace on earth.”  But these are a worldly “love” and “peace” that are no more than a deceptive imitation and mockery of true Christian love and peace.  “Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth?  I tell you, nay; but rather division” (Lk 12:51).  The lot of the Christian in this life is one of constant warfare with the world and its temptations; and even love, if it be not the love of Jesus Christ, can be such a temptation.  “He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me” (Mt 10:37).

Christian love seems difficult to the world, primarily because its reward is not in this life, but in the life to come.  Those who preach worldly “peace” and “love” do not believe in the future life, or else they believe in it half-heartedly, regarding it as something vague and distant.  For the Orthodox Christian, on the other hand, the whole meaning of love resides in its fulfillment in eternal life.  “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (Jn 3:16).  The worldly man, if he loves his fellow man, does so out of pity for his weakness and mortality, and from concern to make his short life pleasant while it lasts; such love has no power over death, and it ends with death.  The Christian, however, loves his fellow man because he sees in him one created in the image of God and called to perfection and eternal life in God; such love is not human but divine, seeing in men not mere earthly mortality, but heavenly immortality.

Our Lord has warned us: “Ye shall be hated of all men for My name’s sake” (Matt. 10:22), and in time of persecution Christians may well be tempted to doubt, to fear, and even to hate in return.  But Christian love, which is not bound by death, is powerful enough to overcome these temptations.  Our Lord has commanded us: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you” (Mt 5:44).  In these commandments the standards of the world are reversed and overthrown, and the way is opened to the Kingdom of Heaven, which is to be an eternal Feast of Love.

“God is Fire,” by Eugene Rose

Eugene Rose  Lay Sermon  Nov. 1963

“God is fire”: 

in these words the Chosen One of God, St. Seraphim of Sarov, reminds us not only of the splendor of the Divine Glory, but also of our own opportunity and hope; for no one can approach God who does not himself become fire.  This is no mere figure of speech, but a spiritual truth demonstrated in the lives of many saints.  Christian hermits who would otherwise have frozen to death in winter frosts were kept warm by inward spiritual fire; and even the layman Motovilov, by the special grace of God, was permitted to experience this warmth in the presence of St. Seraphim and to see the Saint as though in the center of a dazzling sun. 

Such fire, as St. Seraphim tells us, is the tangible manifestation of the grace of the Holy Spirit; it was given to the Apostles at Pentecost and is given anew to every Orthodox Christian in Baptism.  In our spiritual blindness and coldness we neither see nor feel this fire, save perhaps in rare moments of fervent prayer and communion with God, and even then in small measure; but no one can approach God except through this fire.  When our first parents were expelled from Paradise, God set a fiery sword to guard the Tree of Life; and even today, in the prayers before Holy Communion, we pray that the fruit of the new Tree of Life, the Most Holy Body and Precious Blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, will not burn us in our unworthiness.  St. Seraphim said, “Our God is a fire which consumes everything unclean, and no one who is defiled in body or spirit can enter into communion with Him.”  So it is that the damned in Hell would experience nothing but pain even in the very presence of God; they are unclean, and the Divine Fire can only burn and torment them.  Yet the very fire that burns the unworthy can also consume impurities and make worthy those who, though unworthy, still love God and desire to be His sons.  We pray before Holy Communion, “May Thy most precious Body and Blood, my Savior, be to me as fire and light, consuming the fuel of sin and burning the thorns of my passions, enlightening the whole of me to adore Thy Divinity.” 

St. Seraphim compared the Christian believer to a lighted candle that kindles other candles without diminishing its own light, thus helping to distribute the heavenly riches of divine grace.  So must the Christian believer be, burning with love of God and zeal to serve Him, and filled with the fiery Presence of His Holy Spirit.  If he is such a flaming candle in this life, he shall be something even much greater in the next life; “then,” our Lord tells us, “shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the Kingdom of their Father” (Mt 13:43).  In our present unworthiness we can hardly conceive of such a state; for “eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered the heart of man what God has prepared for those who love Him” (I Cor 2:9).  Such a state is the goal and meaning of the Christian life; it is what every Orthodox Christian lives for. 

Self-Liquidation of Christianity, by Eugene Rose

from The Orthodox Word #9 

July/August 1966

ORTHODOXY AND MODERN THOUGHT

THE SELF-LIQUIDATION OF CHRISTIANITY

 The" Death of God" as a Sign of the Times

The striking phrase, "God is dead," is the poetical expression of modern unbelief.  Much is expressed in this phrase that is not to be found in the more prosaic expressions of modern atheism and agnosticism.  A vivid contrast is established between a previous age when men believed in God and based their life and institutions upon Him, and a new age for whose inhabitants, supposedly, this once all-illuminating sun has been blotted out, and life and society must be given a new orientation.

The phrase, itself apparently coined by Nietzsche almost a century ago, was for long used to express the views of a comparatively few enemies of Christianity, chiefly "existentialists"; but recently it has caused controversy by being accepted in radical Protestant circles, and now it has become a concern of common journalism and the mass media.  Clearly a responsive chord has been struck in Western society at large; the public interest in the "death of God" has made this phenomenon one of the signs of the times.

To understand what this sign means, one must know its historical context.  By its very nature it is a negation - a reaction against the other-worldly Christian world view which emphasizes asceticism and the "unseen warfare" against the devil and the world in order to obtain eternal joy through communion with God in the Kingdom of Heaven.  The founders of the new philosophy declared the Christian God "dead" and proclaimed man a god in His place.  This view is merely the latest stage of the modern battle against Christianity which has resulted today in the virtually universal triumph of unbelief.

The contemporary controversy, however, centers about a new and unusual phenomenon: it is now "Christians" who are the unbelievers.  Yet in a sense this too is the logical culmination of an historical process that began in the West with the schism of the Church of Rome.  Separated for over nine centuries from the Church of Christ, Western Christendom has possessed only a steadily-evaporating residue of the genuine Christianity preserved by Holy Orthodoxy.  Today the process is nearly complete, and large numbers of Catholics and Protestants are hardly to be distinguished from unbelievers; and if they still call themselves "Christians," it can only be because for them Christianity itself has been turned into its opposite: worldly unbelief.  One may observe in this what one Orthodox thinker has called "the self-liquidation of Christianity": Christianity undermined from within by its own representatives who demand that it conform itself entirely to the world.

A strange parallel to this new "theology" has become common of late in the "liturgical" life of the West.  Widespread publicity was given earlier this year to a "rock-and-roll" service in the Old South Church in Boston, in which teenagers were allowed to dance in the aisles of the church to the accompaniment of raucous popular music.  In Catholic churches "jazz masses" become more and more frequent.  The ostensible intention of those responsible for these phenomena is the same as that of the new radical "theologians": to make religion more "real" to contemporary men.  They thereby admit what is obvious to Orthodox observers: that religious life is largely dead in Western Christendom; but they unwittingly reveal even more: unable to distinguish between church and dancehall, between Christ and the world, they reveal that God is dead in their own hearts and only worldly excitement is capable of evoking a response in themselves and their "post-Christian" flocks.

To what does all this, finally, point?  Our Lord, when prophesying of the advent of Antichrist, spoke of the abomination of desolation standing in the holy place St.Matt.24:15; and St. Paul speaks of the very enemy of God sitting in God's temple and being worshipped in place of God IIThes.2:4 -- and this will occur, according to St. John Chrysostom, "in every church."  Does not this "Christian atheism," do not these blasphemous "worship services," does not the acceptance of even the most unseemly and vulgar manifestations in what men still consider holy places, already prepare the way for this end and give one even a foretaste of it?

For Western Christendom God is indeed dead, and its leaders only prepare for the advent of the enemy of God, Antichrist.  But Orthodox Christians know the living God and dwell within the saving enclosure of His True Church.  It is here, in faithful and fervent following of the unchanging Orthodox path -- and not in the dazzling "ecumenical" union with the new infidels that is pursued by Orthodox modernists - that our salvation is to be found.

Eugene Rose.

∞ ‡ ∞ 

In this article above, Eugene [Fr. Seraphim] was applying the things he was learning from his trusted Church father, Archbishop Averky.   If you read Archbishop Averky's article [linked below], you will see what I mean.  Archbishop Averky, in his writing, refers to yet an earlier Church father, Metropolitan Anthony, and his article titled, "How does Orthodoxy differ from the Western Denominations?"  or, it could be worded:  How does Orthodoxy differ from heterodoxy?

This understanding is important.  Because, if you understand how Orthodoxy differs from heterodoxy, then you understand how Royal Path Orthodoxy differs from World orthodoxy.  And you understand ecumenism.   World orthodoxy is headed towards heterodoxy, and has already become heterodox to some degree.

http://archbishopaverky.blogspot.com/2011/06/should-church-be-in-step-with-times.html

The difference between Orthodoxy and heterodoxy boils down to this:  Orthodoxy labors for the heavenly church, heterodoxy labors for an earthly church.  The heterodox might give lip-service to the heavenly Church, but in action they care for numbers in membership and political correctness.

How Does Orthodoxy Differ from Western Denominations, Archbishop Anthony
http://remnantrocor.blogspot.com/2013/07/how-does-orthodoxy-differ-from-western.html

A Radio Interview

A Radio Interview With Hieromonk Seraphim Rose

Recorded at the St. Herman of Alaska Monastery on November 4, 1981.

The interviewer, Fr. John Ocana, was at that time hosting a weekly radio show on Orthodox Christianity.

FJ: Good morning. This is Fr. John Ocana of the Antiochian Orthodox Church of the Redeemer in Los Altos, California. (1)  Last week we were speaking about St. Seraphim of Sarov and the ascetic life in the Orthodox Church.  My guest this morning is Hieromonk Seraphim of the St. Herman of Alaska Monastery in Platina, California. Good morning, Father.

FS: Good morning, Father.

FJ: For the benefit of our radio listeners: Fr. Seraphim is a hieromonk, and perhaps many of you are not familiar with this term. Father, perhaps you can explain to us: What is the meaning of a hieromonk? What does a hieromonk do?

FS: A hieromonk is simply a monk who also happens to be a priest, and his function is the function of a priest.  In the monastic community, he, in alternation with the other priests of the community, serves the Liturgy.  At times, as is the case in our monastery, he might serve Liturgy for mission parishes outside of the monastery.

FJ: We are speaking about – as I said before – the ascetic life.  Perhaps you can explain to our radio audience some of the aspects of the ascetic life and what is the meaning of this life-style for our world today.  Perhaps you can help our radio listeners to understand what is this ascetic life?  What do you actually do? What is your goal in life as a hieromonk?

FS: Perhaps a more understandable term than ascetic might be simply the life of struggle.  The monastic life is the life of Christian struggle.  There are many forms in which a Christian can struggle, and the monastic life is one of these.  Historically, the earliest age of the Church, during the first three centuries, was the age of martyrdom.  Those Christians who went willingly to suffering and death for the sake of their faith in Christ, and who refused to bow down to the pagan idols, were performing a struggle.  Later on, when the Church became officially recognized and therefore more subject to being influenced by the world, there were men and women who went away from the world into the deserts, and that was the beginning of what we know now as the monastic life.

FJ: I know that the monastic life and the monastic tradition is part of the Orthodox tradition.  I was thinking this morning about the impact of the ascetic life on the life of the Church, and the life of us as individual Christians.  What do you feel are some of the benefits that the Christian community derives from having people like yourself in the monastic life?  What do we receive from that, if I can put it in those terms?

FS:  Well, first of all I would say that the monk is really no different from other Christians, in the sense of being a struggler, because Christianity is not possible without struggle.  We receive from our Lord Jesus Christ salvation.  And then, as St. Paul says, it is required for each one to work out [his] salvation with fear and trembling. (2)   Therefore, each Christian must be a struggler in order to receive, to appropriate to himself, this salvation which is given to us by Jesus Christ.  And the monk is simply one who has committed himself to a particular way of life which is directly bound up with this kind of struggle.

FJ: Can you share with us some of the principles of the ascetic life?  What are some of the guidelines that you follow, which help you to live this way of life?  And what precisely is the goal?  What are you trying to achieve in this way of living?

FS: Well, the monastic, whether male or female, is leading a life which, to the best of our ability, is one of regularity.  This involves a definite discipline of attendance at Church services, of performing a rule of prayer, of nourishing our minds and hearts with the word of God and the writings of the Holy Fathers.  And this is the same kind of disciplined life which Orthodox Christians in the world also live, according to their ability – or should be living.  One can say that if the monastic of our times has something to show to the rest of the Christains, it is this showing forth of the disciplined life to which everyone is called according to their strength, and which might inspire them when they see a particular class of people who are devoting themselves entirely to this.

FJ: I would like to be a little bit more specific.  How do you, as an Orthodox Christian, put on Christ? (3)   How is this done within your way of life?  Perhaps you can share with us some of the guiding principles, or some of the sayings of the Fathers of the Church, that help you to understand and to live this life more fully.

FS:  Well, in the monastic context, we make a point of first of all of putting off  our own will, which means submission to the authority of spiritual fathers, to the abbot. The Christian in the world has the same concept of obedience – though not in such a direct form – because he must be obedient to Christ, to the Church, to the authority of the Church.  So this is something which happens in the life of everyone, but the monastic has this particular form of very strict obedience to the abbot or his spiritual father.  The particular benefit which a monk or nun derives from obedience is directly related to the quality of his spiritual life.

     We can see in the example of the Saint you talked about last week, St. Seraphim of Sarov, that he – living in the desert, in the wilderness – could have acquired great spiritual benefit perhaps even without someone over him to whom he had to be submissive; but unless his Christian life had been tested by this particular virtue of obedience, we might not have been quite so certain as to what state he was in.  For example, it happened that some of the brothers in the monastery complained that he was not coming to the services like the other monks (he was living outside the monastery in a cell in the wilderness), that he was living a life too remote from them, that he was perhaps falling into the danger of trusting himself, and therefore the brethern asked the abbot to force him to come to the monastery.  The abbot did this: he sent word that he was to come to the Liturgy to receive Communion, and so that the brethern would not be scandalized.  St. Seraphim, hearing this, instantly obeyed.  He came without saying a word, because he was at that time living a life of total silence; he came in obedience to the monastery and in accordance with the will of the abbot, and acted just like the other brothers.  Thereby he showed that he had humility; because, if he were unwillingly to obey, it would mean that there was pride in him.

     For people living in the world this might seem an advanced thing to understand, but it is not so at all, because this virtue of humility is basic to all the other Christian virtues.  It is revealed in one's willingness not to trust oneself, but rather submit to the will of one's superior.

FJ: That's an interesting concept and an interesting aspect of the Christian life.  Perhaps you can share with us a few more of the virtues that a monk develops in this form of life, that we as Christians must also develop.

FS: Well, closely bound up with this idea of obedience is this idea of not trusting oneself, not trusting one's opinions.  This does not mean that one is in a state of total confusion.  It means that there is somewhere in oneself a humility that refuses to take one's own opinions as the ultimate law.  Of course, in the Orthodox Church we have the whole hierarchy and discipline of the Church, which gives to us the basic belief and way of life that we have.  Therefore, our life is constantly being tested against this measuring stick.

     It so happens that, in the Western world especially, the habit of placing to much trust in one's own opinions, in one's own way of thinking, has led to the formation of many sects, each one of which promotes simply the personal opinion of the person who founded it.

FJ: We certainly see within many churches in the Western world a division according to various denominational lines, and I know that the Orthodox Church does not consider itself a denomination.  Perhaps you can share with us some thoughts as to why the Orthodox Church does not consider itself just one more denomination among other Christian groups.

FS:  Well, historically one can trace back from the present-day Orthodox Church and go back all the way to the Apostles.  One can trace the teaching of the present-day Orthodox Church and go all the way back through the Holy Fathers of the Church and the Ecumenical Councils, again to the Apostles.  And in fact, one can even trace such things as the Church vestments and services back through the earlier Church to the fourth century and even beyond that.  This is a very persuasive thing.  For example, the Orthodox Church in Uganda was formed, not by missionaries coming from outside, but by two Anglican seminarians, who, investigating the history of the Church, found that historically the Orthodox Church was the only one which was tied to and came down in a straight succession without change from the age of the Apostles.

FJ: One of the things that we spoke about earlier, Father, was prayer, and the role that prayer has in [the] life of a monk.  Could you speak a little about this?  We also spoke about your praying for the world.  I found this very interesting.  Can you share some of those thoughts with your audience?

FS:  Yes, of course. A monk is free to pray more than the ordinary layman is able to, because the whole monastic life is centered around the Church services, which we have in the morning, in the evening, and at various times of the day.  Therefore, he prays with the cycle of the Church's services.  And a special part of his prayers is the prayer, both in Church and in his own cell, for others.  In the world, people are not usually so free to devote time to praying for others; but the monastic has the opportunity to devote himself to this kind of prayer.  In his prayer in the desert, away from the ways of the world, he can call to mind those who are in various conditions of suffering, sorrow, or struggle.  Often those people in the world have no one to have sympathy on them in their struggles.  The monastic is one who can do this.  We receive mail from people all over the world telling about their needs and their struggles, and therefore we take this obligation upon ourselves of praying for them, asking God's mercy upon all those who are in conditions of need throughout the world.

FJ: I can see that our time is just about up.  Father, I'd like you to share with our radio audience some last thoughts that you might have for them this morning.

FS: I would encourage people to become acquainted with the monastic tradition of the past, because this is not so much a special way of life as it is a way of preserving true Christianity in the midst of the temptations which inevitably come from the world.  If one reads, for example, the Life of a struggler like St. Seraphim in more modern times, or the Lives of the saints of the desert in the early centuries of Christianity, one finds there a simplicity and a warmth, and a basic Christianity that is so easily clouded over by the influence of the world upon us.  Therefore, the reading of such texts as the Lives and the sayings of the Desert Fathers is something that can, I think, open up and strengthen true Christianity in people today.

FJ: Father, I would like to thank you very, very much for being with us this morning.

FS: Thank you.  

Special thanks to Fr. John Ocana for granting permission to print this interview, and to Fr. Paul Baba, now the priest of St. George Antiochian Orthodox Church in Cedar Rapids, who recorded it and provided us with the tape recording.

1. At the time of publication of this edition (2001) he was pastor of St. Herman of Alaska Church in Sunnyvale, California, of the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad.
2. Philipians 2:12
3. Galatians 3:27

Report by Abbot Gerasim

Excerpts from Autobiography of neo-Platina's abbot Gerasim Eliel.  Be aware he is in world-Orthodoxy and pro-MP (Moscow Patriarch).  Reader be aware of his perspective.

The excerpts I've chosen to copy here are the parts that tell his story of Platina 1980 – 1983

Abbot Gerasim's observations about Platina and Fr. Seraphim.  Obviously his perception of Fr. Seraphim was restricted to a superficial level -- I can't think of another word to describe it.  Superficial.  But his report is nevertheless true, and of interest to us.  

from his Autobiographical Sketch 

Abbot Gerasim (Eliel) 

Updated June 6, 2011 

My First Visit to the St. Herman of Alaska Monastery in July, 1980 

On July 6, 1980, during our summer in Calistoga, [OCA] James Paffhausen and I, with the blessing of  [OCA]  Priest John Newcombe, drove four hours north to the St. Herman of Alaska Monastery.  This proved to be a very pivotal event in my life's path.  I found the monastery to be very strange at first, but I was intrigued because I saw that they were living the type of life that I had been reading about and that I longed to emulate.  When we arrived, the monastery was desolate. After Small Vespers and an evening meal we retired until around 10:00 p.m., at which time an All-night Vigil with Divine Liturgy was served. The singing was rather plain and brisk, bats flew through the temple a few times during the service. The church had never been finished, tar paper could be seen on the walls and ceiling behind the studs and rafters, stubs of candles burned on several second-hand candlestands, the church was lit with oil lamps that were filled at least once during the Vigil, and the entire church was censed several times during the course of the service.  Since this monastery was in the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad, James explained that we were not to receive Holy Communion. This service may seem simple in retrospect, but at my impressionable young age, diligently pondering the monastic life, here I tasted what I had been seeking. After the Divine Liturgy there was a simple meal in a refectory whose walls contained iconographic sketches that had never been finished. I witnessed the monastic life in a small skete secluded in the mountains, on a feast honoring the Forerunner of the Lord.  At that time there were very few places on the West Coast where one could attend an All-night Vigil in English, let alone on a weekday and lasting most of the way through the night.  The fact that this monastery was not in communion with either the OCA or the Moscow Patriarchate and the rustic facilities was hard to accept at first.  

The monastic brotherhood then consisted of Abbot Herman, Hieromonk Seraphim, Riassaphore-monk Peter (now Hieromonk Juvenaly), and perhaps three other brothers. Later that morning after resting, James and I went on a walk with Father Seraphim along the county road that passes through the monastery land. We each had partially developed thoughts about the monastic life. Everything that Father Seraphim said was very inspiring. I think that he was happy to speak with a couple of young people who were seriously interested in the monastic life. Our encounter and conversation that day was pivotal in my own life. I observed Hieromonk Seraphim as a teacher of the Orthodox Faith and of the spiritual life. I saw that I had much to learn from him and from the unpretentious way of life at this monastery. At one point in our walk James bluntly told Father Seraphim that we were intending to start a hesychast monastery. I gulped.  At the time James did not know how absurd this sounded.  Hieromonk Seraphim, silently saying the Jesus Prayer as he walked, then gently spoke about sobriety and the need to think humbly of ourselves.  He recommended reading The Arena by St. Ignatius Brianchaninov (which James had in his collection) and began to speak about delusion or prelest. (I later witnessed Hieromonk Seraphim responding in a mild way to a number of other people who came to talk about exalted themes like hesychasm). This day marked a milestone in our lives and a very important point in our spiritual development. Later in the morning we had a talk with Abbot Herman who made recommendations about what we should do at our campus, how we should gather to pray, and how we should organize talks.  He offered to help us out with some literature.  I kept all these ideas in my head.  The next year I continually reflected back on my visit to the monastery as a model of what I wanted in the monastic life. 

   

Visit of Hieromonk Seraphim Rose to UCSC 

Our Orthodox Christian Fellowship began to grow.  That small group eventually produced a large number of clergy and monastics, including Hieromonk James Corraza of the Old Joy of All Who Sorrow Cathedral in San Francisco, California. 

On May 15 Hieromonk Seraphim Rose was invited to visit our university to address our World Religions class taught by Noel Q. King.  Two guests from the future Evangelical Orthodox Church, Marion Cardoza (later Priest Seraphim Cardoza of Rogue River, Oregon [ROCOR]) and his friend Daniel Ogan (afterwards an iconographer) also attended Father Seraphim's talk.  It is amazing how pivotal this talk proved to be for Marion Cardoza, John Christensen, James Corraza and others.  I think that we had studied hard, and were ripe to hear a living word.  I had always treasured this talk which was taped by James Corraza and distributed widely among friends.  Seven years later I was instrumental in seeing this lecture being printed as a separate book entitled God's Revelation to the Human Heart.  

St. Herman of Alaska Monastery 

I reached St. Herman of Alaska Monastery in Platina on the afternoon of July 28 [1981] en route to Portland.  Neither Abbot Herman nor Hieromonk Seraphim were there at that hour—only a few novices.  I decided to stay to help prepare for the 1981 St. Herman of Alaska summer pilgrimage.  I was quite happy and willing to contribute my efforts;  I looked forward to participating in the Divine Services and experiencing the monastic life.  However, I had no intention of staying at the monastery.   I looked forward to being involved in establishing the monastic life with Hieromonk Anastasy as my instructor and spiritual father.  

Pilgrims began to arrive just before St. Herman’s feast day from all over the West Coast and even overseas.  [ROCOR] Bishop Alypy of Cleveland visited on the feast day and [ROCOR] Bishop Laurus of Holy Trinity Monastery visited later in the week.  The feast was followed by a week of  classes on the Orthodox Faith and was designed to present the foundations of the faith primarily to converts and cradle Orthodox who wanted to know more about their faith.  There was a decided missionary tone to the "Pilgrimage."  The curriculum consisted of Church history, Orthodox doctrine, liturgics and chanting, and an explanation of the Book of Genesis by Hieromonk Seraphim (Rose).  Priest Alexey Young, who was very close to Fathers Herman and Seraphim, came from Etna and gave several of the classes.  There was also a slide show about Valaam Monastery and its elders.  This was accompanied by music of the monks of Old Valaam singing Valaam chant.  Since St. Herman of Alaska had laid his monastic beginning in that monastery, this slide show helped to give a background and context to the whole week.  This also was one of the things that most intrigued me: pictures and stories of the way monks lived in a traditional monastery, especially one such as Valaam where [MP] Bishop Mark had laid the beginning of his monastic life.  Here I encountered a context in which I could learn all about the teaching of the Church, and in which I could participate in the full cycle of services in the English language.  There was a daily explanation of the lives of the saints and the scripture readings.  The monastery was remote and cut off from the world.  I felt peace here.  It was also important to me that they were actively disseminating the Orthodox Faith.  

I talked to Hieromonk Anastasy on the telephone and, as he had not made any arrangements for me in Portland, I was in no hurry to go.  Finally, one day one of the monks sat next to me and asked me what I was going to do.  He asked if I had thought about staying at the monastery.  Of course, I had, but I knew that my family would be absolutely against it.  I also did not think that my spiritual father would give me his blessing to stay.  It should be stated that there were people, both pilgrims and monks who regularly bad mouthed the Moscow Patriarchate and the OCA from almost the first day that I came to the monastery. People around the monastery pejoratively called the OCA "the Metropolia."   They called the Moscow Patriarchate the "Soviet Church."  [MP] Bishop Mark had told us that not only ROCOR but Abbot Herman as well was "making politik," as he would express himself.  So there were a number of different reasons that I hesitated to join the monastery.  I talked with the Abbot, Father Herman, and asked him if it was possible for me to stay.  He told me that I could and that he would be happy to talk with Hieromonk Anastasy.  One day we  called him from Redding.  I asked his blessing to stay at the monastery.  He gave his blessing but, I could sense, very reluctantly.  I do not believe that he ever had full confidence in Abbot Herman.  

Life in the Monastery 

I stayed the first few months at the monastery soaking in the monastic life without making any commitment.  In late November, 1981 I petitioned to be accepted as a novice.  On the feast of St. Herman of Alaska, celebrated there at the monastery on December 12/25, 1981, I was clothed as a novice.  I was very happy at that time.  I lived that first winter in an unheated cell.  I would put on several coats and use extra blankets to stay warm but I had my own partitioned cell, my icon corner, and spiritual books.  I had only one robe.  My life was centered around the Divine Services, my obediences, and my prayer rule.

During my novitiate I performed the usual obediences of a novice: I cooked, cleaned the church, cut firewood, helped in carpentry and construction projects, made elementary automotive repairs, etc.  In the spring of 1982 I began building a new set of cells which due to my lack of experience had many shortcomings.  However, as the future showed, this experience proved to be valuable. 

I soon began to assist with research for the monastery publications. I was gradually trained to do post-production work on the monastery publications, such as collating, stapling and cutting.  Later I was instructed how to use the old letterpress. Late in 1981 I began to help with research for the book Russia's Catacomb Saints. I would cross-reference citations and facts, analyze sources, write synopses of periods of persecution, movements in the early years of the Soviet regime and episodes in the life of the Church. I enjoyed this work very much. During the first two years I spent at the monastery my involvement with missionary trips to Redding, Etna, and Medford was very limited. Since I was a young novice, I was kept out of harm's way. Gradually I was included and often this involved the showing of slide shows on Holy Places in America, Valaam Monastery, Mount Athos, the New Martyrs of Russia, or some other theme.  

An important aspect of my monastic experience began during the fall of 1981.  After Compline the brothers were given an opportunity to have "revelation of thoughts" with Hieromonk Seraphim.  Although Father Herman was the abbot, Hieromonk Seraphim more often heard the confessions of the brothers and the revelation of thoughts.  This helped to lift the burden from my soul on a daily basis.  This continued regularly four or five times a week until mid-August, 1982.  At the same time, I became accustomed to going to Confession.  I did not have much experience with confession with Hieromonk Anastasy.  I think that he realized that I had to become at home in the Church first and that this was very foreign to me.  It was very hard in the beginning to accept correction.  Hieromonk Anastasy also had been reticent to correct me as was Abbot Herman later.  I distinctly remember that at one point during the first six months I made the remark to Hieromonk Seraphim during Confession that I was like everyone else.  I remember hearing him sigh.  I believe that he made a remark to the extent that this showed what a long way I had to go.  When I realized what I had said, my conscience stung.  I was very embarrassed.  I also had a number of lessons to learn in asking blessings to undertake some project.  Once when I was making some simple furniture item out of leftover wood, Hieromonk Seraphim asked me what I was doing.  When I explained, he asked, "Did you get a blessing to do this?"  Of course, I had not.  

Central to our monastic life was the monastic cell-rule of prayer.  At a certain point each monastic aspirant would be assigned a prayer rule.  It was the practice of the monastery for each monk to retire to his cell in the evening and there do his cell rule.  Because of the absence of electricity, it fit well with our life to perform our cell rule in the evening after Compline.  It was not easy to accustom myself to this.  I did not have good habits of self-discipline. It also kept the brothers from talking after evening prayers which were read in common in church.  We also had the habit that when we drove to Redding or on any journey that we would begin the journey with the Optina five hundred prayer rule.  This also brought a blessing on the journey and limited talking.  During Father Seraphim's lifetime when we went on any long trip, we would also bring the Horologion, Menaion, and Psalter and read the Vespers or Matins service that would otherwise have been omitted.  This produced in us a monastic world view and helped with our identity as monks.  Fundamental to our monastic formation were the evening talks that were delivered in the refectory primarily by Abbot Herman.  After the reading would finish, we would all be gathered around the table.  I soaked up every word that he or Hieromonk Seraphim had to share.  Sometimes I would record it in my journal that evening or during the next day.  In 1981–82 we did not have any editions of the Lives of the Saints, the Synaxarion or the Prologue.  Abbot Herman was able to share substantially the entire life of a saint or a righteous one from recent times without a text or notes.  He had a superb gift for relating the lives of the saints and the righteous ones of recent times.  His memory was very sharp and he was able to involve his listener in what he was trying to emphasize.  For those who listened intently it was quite an education.  The first books that I read at the monastery were Abba Dorotheos of Gaza, The Arena: An Offering to Contemporary Monasticism, Unseen Warfare, Spiritual Homilies of St. Macarius of Egypt. 

Hieromonk Seraphim Rose 

Hieromonk Seraphim was usually the first or second one to church every morning. He often began the morning prayers himself in the Narthex. He would serve Matins without fail every day unless there was a literal all-night vigil which would be too much stress on his physical condition.  At times he would come to the cliros during Matins and help to lead the singing, either reading the canon in Slavonic or translating verses on the spot into English for the instruction of those gathered.  Every day, regardless of whether the Divine Liturgy was to be served or not, he would give a sermon on the theme of the daily Epistle or Gospel reading.  The Divine Liturgy was always served on Saturday and Sunday.  

He had great love for the nature that surrounded the monastery.  I reveled in this, too.  Up until I was ordained a priest, I would regularly take a book and hike up our mountain every Sunday, feast day or whenever I had the chance and find some new secluded spot in which to pray and read.  In October 1981 we were able to hike to the top of Mount Yolla Bolly (8,000 ft) located about twenty-five miles from the monastery.  Here at the top Fr. Seraphim read about the ascetic feats of the western desert dwellers of the Jura Mountains as we sat atop that chilly peak.  It was a beautiful glimpse of the world that he loved and which greatly impressed itself on me. 

In the autumn of 1981 Hieromonk Seraphim taught a class every other morning from his notes for a summer seminar that he had begun four or five years previously.  This course eventually became dubbed as the "Orthodox Survival Course."  It was his analysis of the history of Western philosophy, political history, and religious development from the time of the Great Schism.  He felt very strongly that an acute analysis in this manner showed the fruits of the schism of Rome from the Church and how the consequences of this schism are expressed in the history of Western culture.  In the following spring Hieromonk Seraphim sought to include me in the classes that he was teaching to one Seminary student who was taking correspondence courses through the Holy Trinity Seminary in Jordanville.  Father Seraphim had questioned me several times whether or not I felt I was being challenged.  I was actually afraid that he would send me back to the university, which I do not believe was his intention but which was my greatest fear.  We also had classes in Russian which were crucial in providing me continuity with the one year during which I had studied Russian in the university.  At the same time I made it a discipline that whenever Hieromonk Seraphim or anyone else was reading in Slavonic on the cliros that I would walk over and look on at the text.  By the mid 1980s I was able to translate Slavonic into English without much difficulty.  The illness and repose of Hieromonk Seraphim was a great tragedy in my life.  It left us all stunned.  It happened so unexpectedly.  At first I did not suspect anything serious.  It seemed that he merely had a bad case of constipation.  He took a turn for the worse.  The heat in the valley was intense, approximately 115° F, and therefore we did not want to make him worse by taking him to Redding.  When we finally did the news was shocking: a section of his large intestine had ceased to function.  An operation began immediately.  Gangrene was already setting in and peritonitis of the stomach cavity developed.  It affected all his internal organs.  Having only one functioning kidney from an early age his system was not sufficiently strong to battle this condition.  Within several days Hieromonk Seraphim died.  

Abbot Herman and I drove back in the hearse from Redding to the monastery on September 3 with Father Seraphim's body in a coffin.  When Archbishop Anthony and Bishop Nektary arrived, Abbot Herman spoke to them about the details of the funeral and burial.  I was to be tonsured a reader on that day.  However, I stated that I did not want to become a reader, but rather that I wanted to be a monk.  I clung steadfastly to my desire for the monastic life that I had formed under the direction of Hieromonk Anastasy, [MP] Bishop Mark, and my first year at the monastery.  The funeral was attended by approximately 120 people.  I was so overwhelmed by all those events that I do not remember many details.  I remember Hieromonk Anastasy came for the funeral.  Before the Divine Liturgy, Novice Stephen and I were tonsured riassaphore-monks at the coffin of Hieromonk Seraphim by Archbishop Anthony.  In the monastic tonsure I was given the name Gerasim, with St. Gerasimus of the Jordan as my monastic patron and receiving this name in honor of Archimandrite Gerasim (Schmaltz) who had settled at Monks' Lagoon and devoted his life to the veneration of St. Herman of Alaska.  It was in such a context that I embraced the monastic life. 

Change 

Soon things began to change in our St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood.  More brothers came, our conditions were very crowded.  We were busy with our publications, including Russia's Catacomb Saints.  We spent a good deal of time that long, dark autumn with the regular celebration at sporadic times of the Divine Liturgy.  Gradually I began to participate more and more in the administration of the monastery.  Our abbot was frequently absent on little excursions here and there.  This was a pattern which would continue to develop until he was forced into reclusion in April 2000.  There were no longer two experienced monks here capable of guiding me in the  monastic life and providing stability in the monastery.  Now there was only one priest in the monastery to conduct the Divine services and to serve the Liturgy.  

We scrambled to salvage Hieromonk Seraphim's legacy.  We attempted to patch together projects that he had left unfinished.  In late 1982 discipline in the monastery gradually started to wane.  This was a process which extended over many years.  We no longer experienced the same regular instruction.  I began to have serious doubts about how I would remain in the monastic life.  I remember becoming habitually angry or wrathful.  I recall it being a long, wet and lonely autumn in 1982, and a few months later the monastery church would burn down.  I had a temptation to leave at the end of November.  But I did not know where to go?  To what other monastery could I go?  (We were quite prejudiced toward the New Calendar, so that eliminated a number of options).  I wanted to live a real monastic life; I saw that our monastic life was beginning to crumble. 

full 35 page bio posted here

https://rocorhistory.blogspot.com/2020/05/bio-gerasim-eliel-platina-history.html