By Isaac Linder, February 26, 2012 Holy Great-Martyr & Healer St. Panteleimon The Great Martyr and Healer Panteleimon was born in the city of Nikomedia into the family of the illustrious pagan Eustorgias, and he was named Pantoleon. His mother Ebbula was a Christian. She wanted to raise her son in the Christian faith, but she died when the future great martyr was still a young lad. His father sent Pantoleon to a
As humans we have struggled continually through time to answer the seemingly simple question; “Who am I?” Philosophers continue to wrestle with this question. Some popular psychology tells us that we are who people tell us we are. Others tell us that we are who we want to be. And of course pop-society advertising tells us that we are what we eat, drink, wear, drive, etc. So we go through life trying to define ourselves
Self-centeredness is in the end coldness, isolation. It is a desert. It’s no coincidence that in the Lord’s Prayer, the model of prayer that God has given us, and which teaches what we are to be, the word “us” comes five times, the word “our” three times, the word “we” once. But nowhere in the Lord’s Prayer do we find the words “me” or “mine” or “I”. In the beginning of the era of modern
Upon Which Foundation? “My poor children,” God says, “you want to live without me. What, then, do you depend upon? What is your essential foundation? “My poor child,” He declares, “you think you can escape from me by plunging yourself into what you conceive to be the ‘natural world.’ But what you cling to is not at all the natural world in its very depths. “You think you can lead a better life by distancing
The path of descent involves letting go of our self-image, our titles, our public image. I think this is one of the many meanings of the First Commandment: “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exodus 20:3). What is at stake here is not just false images of God (which mostly serve our purposes), but also comfortable images of ourselves. That’s probably what the saints meant when they said we have to move to
By Father Stephen Freeman, January 24, 2015 This is an exercise in the Orthodox reading of the Scriptures. My thoughts frequently return to this story and this line of thought. This article is greatly expanded from an earlier version. The habits of modern Christians run towards history: it is a lens through which we see the world. We see a world of cause and effect, and, because the past is older than the present, we look
The Gift of Silence (III) From the time of Elijah through the period of classical prophecy, God continued to reveal Himself through His Word of blessing and judgment. At the same time, silence was increasingly perceived as something negative: the absence of God’s voice and thus of His presence. “The land of silence” became synonymous with Sheol, the place of the dead where, by definition, the life-giving God is not to be found (Ps 88:11-13;
The Gift of Silence (II) There is an obvious and deep irony in any attempt to talk about silence. It’s like trying to describe the ineffable or depict the invisible. The task itself is inherently impossible. Silence can only speak for itself: not through words, but through experience. The best way to begin, therefore, is not by any definition or analysis, but by a story. There is a familiar little account in the alphabetical collection
The Gift of Silence (I) The second-century Latin theologian Tertullian declared that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church. This remains true to our day, as witnessed most poignantly by the martyrdom of bishops, priests and lay people during the Communist era, in Russia, Romania and elsewhere, and in the ongoing persecution of Christians at the hands of Muslim extremists in Africa, Asia and the Middle East. Toward the end of
One of the most wonderful things I find in the classic naming of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is its affirmation that there is an intrinsic plurality to goodness. Goodness isn’t sameness. Goodness, to be goodness, needs contrast and tension, not perfect uniformity. If Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all God yet clearly different, and we embrace this differentiation, resisting the temptation to blend them into some kind of amorphous blob, then
© 2020 Saint Sophia Greek Orthodox Cathedral
