By Matushka Deborah Johnson
(From Orthodox America)

The following is abridged from an introductory talk delivered at the 1998 Russian Orthodox Musicians' Conference, Washington DC.

In the wondrous blending of sounds it is Thy call we hear; in the harmony of many voices, in the sublime beauty of music, in the glory of the works of great composers: Thou leadest us to the threshold of paradise to come, and to the choirs of angels. All true beauty has the power to draw the soul towards Thee, and to make it sing in ecstasy: Alleluia! - Kontakion 7, Thanksgiving Akathist

How many of us converts, in attending our first Orthodox service, were overwhelmed by its sheer beauty. The warmth of the flickering candles, the radiance of the icons, the fragrance of the incense, and, yes, the sublime beauty of the music all combined to enkindle our spirits and our hearts, so that, like the emissaries of Saint Vladimir, we didn't know whether we were in Heaven or on earth. This is the precious legacy which has come to us - whether through the Russian, Greek or other Orthodox tradition. But however uplifting and spiritually inspiring, beauty alone is insufficient as a means of conveying and nourishing faith. The intellect must also be engaged, i.e., we must understand what it is we are praying.

In recognition of this imperative, many Orthodox parishes have begun to incorporate English in their services, and, of course, there are a growing number of missions where English is used exclusively. For many of us it means that we can now pray, as the apostle enjoins, with understanding. And we rejoice in this. Unfortunately, however, this transition to English has not always carried with it the soul-stirring beauty of the Russian (or Greek) chant tradition. This is understandable inasmuch as this is a difficult transition and a transition that is still in its infancy. It is this deficiency that we hope to begin seriously to address in this conference.

All of us here come from different situations - English missions and parishes where only one language is used in worship, parishes where Church Slavonic is the only language used, and parishes where both languages are used. Some of you come from outside the Russian tradition altogether. The pastor of each parish has to work out how to best deal with the language of worship in his parish. It is not the purpose of this conference to recommend any one solution. The purpose of this conference is to help those who are using English, however much or little, to do it as prayerfully and as beautifully as possible. We hope that the principles put forth here will be absorbed and used, regardless of language.

One particular point we are hoping will come out of this conference is a renewed zeal for rehearsals. Fr. George has a favorite quote from the preface to one of his hymnals: "If the people be desirous of joining in the musical part of the Service, it is only right that they should be given the opportunity of attending rehearsals, and only due to Almighty God that they should sacrifice some little time in preparing for His worship, and not be content to give Him that which has cost them no trouble." (from Songs of Syon.) It is a great privilege to be a choir director or a church singer: but also an awesome responsibility. Here at St. John's, rehearsals were always encouraged, but when I took over as director of the English choir from Fr. George after he was ordained, we decided that they should be a requirement. We now rehearse every Thursday evening from 7:00 to 9:00. It is a commitment: some of our choir members drive as much as fifty miles to the church. But the fruit of such effort is rewarding.

As a new choir director, my experience of directing the Divine Liturgy and the All-Night-Vigil, was that while the Vigil was more difficult intellectually, with all the different parts coming from different sources, the Liturgy was more difficult spiritually. I think it has to do with the unique place of the Divine Liturgy in the worship life of the Church. All of the other services of the Church are somehow related to Time, that is, they take place in a cycle of time, be it daily, weekly, fixed according to a calendar date, or variable according to the occurrence of Pascha. But the Divine Liturgy is different. It takes place outside of time. It can be celebrated in the morning or the evening. While I was preparing for my first Liturgy, Fr. Leonid pointed out to me that one of the litanies in the Liturgy begins, "Let us complete our prayer unto the Lord," not "Let us complete our morning prayer," which we hear during Matins, or "Let us complete our evening prayer," which we hear during Vespers. I had this sense of the timelessness of the Liturgy, combined with a feeling of embarking on a journey from which it is impossible to turn back.

Beginning with the Cherubic Hymn, we are literally reaching for Heaven. We are trying to do something which is impossible, and yet, we are doing it. A small group of sinful human beings says: "Let us, who mystically represent the Cherubim and chant the thrice holy hymn unto the life creating Trinity, now lay aside all earthly care." In what is a great mystery that we cannot hope to understand, we swim out into an ocean of prayer, into a timeless realm, a place where the angels are chanting: the cherubim with many eyes, and the six-winged seraphim who are veiling their faces, because, as it says in the priest's service book, "to serve Thee is a great and fearful thing even unto the heavenly hosts themselves." We leave behind all that is familiar to us of our normal earthly concerns, including even the very nature of time itself. We are going on a journey, outside of time, to that Upper Room, where the Lord Himself gives us His Body and Blood in the great Mystery of Holy Communion.

It is an awesome responsibility to be part of this mystery. Because this is such a fearful thing, we must prepare for it. If we are going to receive Holy Communion, we prepare for it with Confession, fasting and a prayer rule. Likewise, the choir must prepare, through rehearsing. Rehearsing is the key to the ongoing spiritual and musical growth of a choir.

What if you are a small mission and you don't have a choir yet, or you are planning to do only congregational singing? Have rehearsals anyway. Someone has to be in charge of the service - of passing the music out, of leading the singers, be they a designated choir or the whole congregation. Even in congregational singing, someone is leading. If you don't plan for it, then the singing will by default be led by the loudest voice, which may produce an ugly and unprayerful result. Encourage members of the congregation to come to the rehearsals. You can teach them the tones, you can mark the sticheri ahead of time, so that you all are singing together. You can practice the composed music. You can learn the order of the services. People can be taught the principles of choir singing even if there is no official choir.

Some people say: "I can't pray while I'm singing in the choir," or, "It's too hard for me to pray while thinking about the notes, the shuffling of the music distracts me," etc., etc.

If someone truly cannot pray while singing, then he shouldn't sing in the choir. But please consider this. Church singing is many things: it is a talent, a gift of the Holy Spirit, and it is also a cross. While you sing you are serving the Church, you are carrying your cross. When you carry your cross joyfully, obediently, God will help you and console you. There are moments, when suddenly one is flooded with the pure, radiant joy of the feast or the saint which is being commemorated. At times I have felt so uplifted that it was all I could do to stay inside my shoes.

Another comment frequently heard is: "I already know the music and the tones. I don't need to come to rehearsals. It's boring for me."

Prayerful, beautiful church singing consists of more than just getting the notes right. Perhaps you already know the notes. But a robot can sing the right notes. There are a lot of other things which are worked on in rehearsals besides the notes. For example:

Your brothers and sisters in the choir may not know all the notes. Most choirs have a fair amount of turnover. This means there are always people who are just learning the tones and the music. These new people need help in order to learn. One of the most valuable things a choir director can have, in trying to teach the music to new people, is the presence of at least one knowledgeable person in each of the four parts. How can a choir director accomplish this if the most knowledgeable people, those who "already know the music," stay home?

No one's voice should be heard over the others'; the choir is one body, and we need practice in becoming one. This can only happen through rehearsal. There is a large body of music repertoire available, which many choir directors would like to introduce but cannot because of a lack of attendance at rehearsals. If you deprive the choir of your presence, you may also deprive the choir of an opportunity to do some of the most beautiful and edifying music. Many times, the presence of just one more person can make all the difference in the world.

A variation on "I already know the music," is: "Give me a copy of the music, and I'll practice it at home." Yes, one can take music home and learn the notes; that is good. But, as we have said, learning the notes is only the first step. Many people consider chamber music to be the highest form of instrumental music; the beauty of chamber music lies in the blending of the instrumental voices into one voice. The same is true of choir singing.

Church singing requires sacrificial devotion, just as does any work which is done for the Church. We do it out of a sense of love for God, and for our brothers and sisters - both those who are already Orthodox and those not yet so. I often tell my choir: sing as if someone who is listening is visiting our church for the first time - it is their very first time in an Orthodox church. Or, perhaps more sobering, sing as if it is their last time in church. Sing with missionary zeal! Regardless of the language of worship, pronounce the words clearly, so that the listener will understand them; as it says in the psalms, "Sing ye praises with understanding." You don't know who is listening; perhaps there is someone in the congregation who has lost his faith and given in to despair. Perhaps the prayerful singing of tonight's Vigil will help that person to turn around and set his foot back on the path to salvation. You don't know.

I would like to end by reading to you some thoughts on Orthodox music, which were written by a 16 year-old member of our choir. If anyone still has doubts about what the benefits of singing in a choir can be, I hope that hearing this will help.

When my mother first brought me to the Russian Orthodox Church, the simplicity and absolute beauty of the music attracted me right off. The first services that I ever attended were the Slavonic ones, and I didn't understand a word that was being said. But after a few times to the church, I found myself humming along with the Lord's Prayer and the Beatitudes. Because I didn't understand Russian, the services were always a bore to me ... except for the music.

I soon learned about the English congregation of my church, and joined in with the choir to have something to do during the long Orthodox services. I couldn't stand still for two hours in a row without doing anything, so the singing provided a nice outlet for my energies during the services. I thought that since I seemed to have a slight talent for music and I had always loved singing, I might as well turn Church into something fun instead of it just being somewhere that I went on Sundays. I enjoyed singing in the services, and loved how we sounded - even on our bad days. I had never attended a choir rehearsal during the year or so of my singing, and when rehearsals became a requirement for singing in the choir, I stopped singing for a while.

One day I was standing in church, just listening to the English choir sing, when I was suddenly in tears. Like it or not, I was no longer bored in church; the music had changed from something fun to something very spiritual and moving. And I liked it very much. I realized that the music had first attracted me, then entertained me, then captured my heart. Church was no longer a place to get up early on Sunday mornings and go to ... it was now The Church and my home.

The music of the Church has done no one little thing to me, it has changed me forever and captured and bound me to the Church for the rest of my life. I was not born Orthodox, I joined the Church in third grade, but I know every time I step inside St. John's that I have found my home at last. - Larissa Sauter

You can hear the fervor and devotion that were excited in Larissa through church music. I'm hoping that we here today can approach our work as church musicians with the same fervor. May God help us to inspire each other and encourage each other, as one candle is lit by another.

The Lord tells the Apostles: Go, and teach all nations... I pray that all of us attending this conference can work together to bring the beautiful Russian Church music and, through it, the Faith of the Apostles, to the English-speaking world. May God help us in this work.

By Matushka Deborah Johnson
(From Orthodox America)

When my family left the Episcopal Church to become Orthodox, I was scared. I felt as though I had leapt across a tremendous void and was being carried I knew not where.  I only knew that my heart burned with an almost unbearable longing, and that the Orthodox Church was the only place where that longing would be satisfied.  And yet, what a strange place it sometimes appeared, full of Russians and other ethnics who had their own ways so different from Americans.

Many converts to Orthodoxy who find themselves, as I do, in a predominantly Russian parish, have been asked by Russian parishioners, "What are you doing here, in the Russian Church?"  The implication being that if you are not Russian, your spouse is not Russian, you don't speak Russian, or you are not in love with Russian culture, what possible reason could you have for wanting to belong to the Russian Orthodox Church? What, indeed?! In our case it was the stories of the New Martyrs of Russia that inspired my family to embrace the Orthodox Faith.

There is in our parish an elderly Russian gentleman, V.  I never knew anything about him until we went to his house for his 75th birthday and nameday celebration.  As we entered I saw on a table an icon of an unfamiliar saint. It was, I was told, the Priest-martyr Macarius, one of Russia's New Martyrs-and the father of V.  When V. was fourteen years old, the KGB beat his father and dragged him away before his eyes.  He never saw his father again. As we were leaving V. walked outside with us, and we all lingered in the night air as he told us the story.  I was suddenly overwhelmed by the image of V. as a boy of fourteen, the same age as our son, watching his father being brutally beaten by the godless.

That evening I gained a deeper appreciation for what so many Russians have suffered.  They were uprooted, persecuted, dispersed; they have borne a heavy burden.  Some, like V., have relatives or friends who are New Martyrs.  Whenever my heart begins to turn cold towards "the Russians," I try to remember the great debt I owe to the Russian martyrs for leading me to the ark of salvation.

Having said all this, my thoughts turn now to America.  We all, converts and cradle Orthodox alike, have been planted together here in America by our Heavenly Father in order to work out our salvation.  And it is a wonderful country. Today, however, America is in serious trouble, as Solzhenitsyn warned us ten years ago in his Templeton speech. We are thoughtlessly "yielding up our younger generation to atheism."  How can we do this?  In Russia atheism was forcibly implanted, many shed their blood in opposing it, but here in America we are willingly allowing it.

In one of his sermons, Archbishop John of blessed memory declared that one of the reasons for the Diaspora-the great exodus from Russia in the wake of the Revolution- was to spread the holy Orthodox Faith.  As Orthodox Christians, are we not responsible to do everything we can to spread the Faith, to make it available to the people of this country, of America? America is where we live now, not Russia.  (Those who desire to live in Russia are free to do so.) We have received the most precious treasure imaginable, the pearl of great price.  We have received without measure of the great riches and mysteries of Holy Orthodoxy.  Our Lord commanded: Freely ye have received, freely give.  He also said, Go, and teach all nations.  All nations: that includes America.

If we do not do all that we can, then will we not bear responsibility for the downfall of this, our country?  Today we are able to build churches, to worship freely, to display our crosses. But if we do not cherish this freedom, if we do not protect it then we will lose it, just as the Russians lost their country to communism.  When they come and close our churches, we will wail and beat our breasts and say, Why didn't we do anything when we had a chance? Why didn't we try to spread the holy Orthodox Faith?  Why didn't we invite the people of this land to "come and see" the wondrous beauty of the Bridegroom?

This, of course, requires a strong witness, which can only come about if converts and cradle Orthodox come together.  All of us must make an effort to erase our fears and misconceptions, our prejudices and resentments. Both sides must be prepared to make sacrifices.  Our Lord tells us that if we love Him we will lay down our lives for our neighbor.  It is a sacrifice to allow "foreigners" into your church, your own church with which you are so familiar. Perhaps if you allow them in, allow them to worship in their own language, well... who knows what will happen.  Things won't be comfortable, predictable. How many Jewish Christians in the time of the Apostles had a hard time accepting the Gentiles into their midst? It wasn't easy.  Converts, too, have to sacrifice: some give up friends, jobs; some have even been disowned by family members in order to come to the "strange new land" of Orthodoxy.  We all have a price to pay.

As my family prepared to enter the Russian Orthodox Church, I had cause to reflect on the familiar words of the Psalmist: How shall I sing the Lord's song in a strange land? (Ps. 136:5).  But I could also say with him, I have chosen rather to be an outcast in the house of my God than to dwell in the tents of sinners (Ps. 83:10).  And this in fact applies to all of us Orthodox Christians, converts and cradle Orthodox:  we are all strangers, pilgrims, outcasts here in this world, and Orthodoxy, as Fr. Seraphim Rose so often stressed, is truly otherworldly.  We all need love, we all need understanding.  If we concentrate on our unity in the Faith, if we work towards greater harmony, making on both sides the necessary sacrifices, then our witness as Orthodox Christians will be stronger, and we will please the Lord.

By Matushka Deborah Johnson
(From Orthodox America)

When I was growing up, we lived about half a mile from the edge of a town planted in the rich prairieland of central Illinois. In the summer, I used to wake up early in the morning to go on long walks by myself, following a road that took me into the countryside. Standing in the midst of the prairie, I could look around me on all sides and see, far off in the distance, the place where the sky met the earth. The greenness of the corn, the black earth, the white clouds all combined in a riot of color under the brilliant blue dome of the sky. I would just stand there and breathe it all in. My spirit soared in this place, and a longing for God was planted in my soul. This is how it was for me as a child.

My parents were not religious, so I was not brought up in any religious faith. I used to ask my parents about God: Does He exist? Who is He? Should we go to church (I wanted to go)? Is there a heaven, a hell, etc. But my parents gave me no answers. I was on my own. I intuitively apprehended the truth of God's existence, especially when I was on my walks out on the prairie. His signature was everywhere. St. Paul says: For the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead (Rom. 1:20).

Tertullian says that all souls are by nature Christian, and St. Augustine says that God has made us for Himself, and that our hearts are restless until they find Him. My own experience bears witness to this. My adult years before conversion to the Orthodox faith were a long and painful time of seeking God and His truth. I even went through a period of atheism, but I always had the memory of those times in the prairie to remind me that there was something else, something more to reality than what is seen. Through the years I would return to this place, and the wind in the grass was like a gentle whisper from God, nurturing in my soul a greater and greater longing for Him. And that was the extent of my godly upbringing.

Christian Upbringing

So, when I was asked to talk about Christian education in the home, and its importance to Orthodox mission, I could not draw on personal experience. I didn't come to the holy Orthodox faith until eight and a half years ago--I was already 35 years old. Perhaps many converts are in a similar position, not having been raised in an Orthodox family, although some were raised in pious Protestant or Catholic families.

Royal Martyr Empress Alexandra said, "No work any man can do for Christ is more important than what he can and should do in his own home." Our son Christopher was seven years old when we were baptized. He is now almost sixteen. When I look at him as a teenager, and reflect on my own teenage years, I see many positive differences. But even if I saw nothing, as parents we have God's promise, given to us in Proverbs: Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old he will not depart from it (Proverbs 22:6).

How can we do this? Fr. Michael Pomazansky writes:

"Every Christian mother considers it one of her primary obligations to teach her child prayer as soon as his consciousness begins to awaken, prayer that is simple and easy for him to understand. His soul must be accustomed to the warm and fervent experience of prayer at home, by his cradle, for his neighbors, his family. The child's evening prayer calms and softens his soul, he experiences the sweetness of prayer with his ... heart, and catches the first scent of sacred feelings.

"[When a mother takes her child to church,] Christ is invisibly present there, and He sees the child, blesses him, and receives him into the atmosphere of the grace of the Holy Spirit. Grace envelopes him as a warm wind wafts over a blade of grass in a field, helping it to grow up slowly and gradually, to put down roots and develop .... Allowing children to have contact with spiritual grace is one of the first ... concerns of a Christian who thinks about his children, and the task of Christian society, which is concerned about its youth. Here is the door to a correct Orthodox Christian upbringing." (From "Children in Church")

Acquire the Spirit of Peace

St. Seraphim said, "Acquire the Spirit of Peace, and a thousand souls around you will be saved." We can help our children acquire this Spirit by teaching them how to pray, by centering our family lives around the Church calendar. Gather daily at the icon corner with your children to do your morning and evening prayers. Read out loud to them the Lives of the Saints. (A wonderful source of daily readings is The Prologue from Ochrid, by Bishop Nikolai Velirnirovich, and the first volume of St. Dimitri of Rostov's Menology has recently become available; the calendar can be ordered from St. John of Kronstadt Press in Tennessee.) Teach them about the upcoming feasts of the Church. If they're old enough, read the Sunday Gospel to them ahead of time and discuss it with them.

Most importantly, teach them in difficult times to hold on as tightly as possible to the Church, the same way that they hold on to their mother when they awaken from a nightmare. Teach them that our Faith is not just a collection of beliefs; it is a living Body, a living Faith. If we desire to teach our children to love our holy orthodox Faith, we cannot do it through words alone, but rather we must do it through our own lives. Then we will be raising up members of the Body of Christ who are truly capable of doing missionary work, according to St. Seraphim's definition.

The Formation of Churches

If we are to plant new churches in this country, we will need priests. Where will these priests come from? From our own Orthodox families. They will be our sons. It's not that we decide ahead of time, "My son will be a priest." But we should raise all of our children in an atmosphere of fear of God and piety. Saint Innocent of Moscow, speaking of the upbringing of young men destined for the clergy, says:

"Teach ... the children to fear God at all times and everywhere .... The fear of God is one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit .... One of the principal methods in acquiring the Holy Spirit is prayer .... Instruct the children in prayer, and they will have the fear of God .... The primary development of the spiritual side of our clergy is not dependent upon our schools.., but on the upbringing in the home." (From "The Upbringing of Spiritual Youth")

I would like to share with you some thoughts which are based on a conversation I had with Fr. Deacon Leonid Mickle, our godfather.

There is a Russian saying: if you get ten Russians together, they will form a church. The priest for the new community should come from the community itself. Don't say to the bishop: "Send us a priest." Do you want a church enough that someone within the mission is willing to take on the awesome responsibility of the priesthood? If you have a community that's really zealous about the Faith, enough to maintain regular Reader's services, it seems amazing that no one would be willing to come forth and go the extra step to make the community complete, so that they can regularly partake of the Body and Blood of Christ. If a community is living the Faith, then either an eligible candidate will come forward, or God will provide one.

Do you have twenty people who would do what the Washington, D.C. community of St. John the Baptist did---mortgage their own property to help pay for the church? They didn't say, "We want to have a church with gold domes---you provide this for us." People came after a full day at work to lay bricks for the new church building. You should see the church now. Even people who come from Russia say it is one of the most beautiful churches they have seen.

When Fr. Leonid's parish priest in New Jersey, Fr. Vasily, died unexpectedly in his 90's, there was a retired military man whose wife had died a couple years earlier. He was a house painter and general handyman. He agreed to be ordained a priest. With a lot of assistance he became a good spiritual father and served for many years. On weeknights he taught classes. The community was pious, sober, and prayerful, and this gave him the strength to step forward. He reposed in church, on Thomas Sunday, during the singing of the Troparion of the Resurrection. Here was a good priest, a simple man, who came from the community.

Examples from my Church

I would like to tell you about two people in my own church community who are striving to witness to the Spirit of Peace. We met these two people on our first visit to an Orthodox church; it was our first exposure to Orthodoxy as embodied in the lives of living human beings. They are now our godparents. Fr. George and I had come for a Vigil. It was Bright Saturday night almost nine years ago, the eve of Thomas Sunday. Fr. Leonid, whom I've already mentioned, and Tatiana Vsevolodna Prujan were in church, as usual; Fr. Leonid serving in his role as deacon, and Mrs. Prujan at the candle stand. We had come to the church after reading Russia's Catacomb Saints, which tells about the New Martyrs of Russia. We were seeking the Church of these New Martyrs. What kind of people would give their lives for the Faith? Where is this Faith? Is it possible that it actually exists here on earth?

We walked hesitantly through the doors of the church that first night, not knowing what we would find. It was like walking into another world. It was like coming home after eons and eons of being away. The holy light of Christ's Resurrection shone in the faces of the people on this Bright Saturday. After the three-hour Vigil, our godparents-to-be stayed and talked to us for another hour and a half, answering our many questions. How many of us would be willing to do the same, after three hours in church?

Mrs. Prujan was born in St. Petersburg in 1909 and lived through the Siege of Leningrad. She had just lost her husband two weeks before, on Palm Sunday. Was she bitter or depressed, or withdrawn? No. She never questioned the wisdom of God. She put her arm around me and warmly began to tell me all about Parcha, how it was too bad that we had missed it, how beautiful it was, how beautiful the church was. She even gave me a recipe for the traditional Russian dessert served on the feast and named after it--pascha. Fr. Leonid was also a cradle Orthodox. He went through a period of questioning the Faith, a period of great struggle, and then was led back with renewed zeal.

These two people literally reached over the edge of the Ark and pulled us on board. This is missionary work. It is done on a one-on-one basis, one person to another, one soul to another. If we want to do this kind of work, then we must be like them. The missionary process in the West conjures up images of a Protestant preacher, shouting, berating and Coercing people. Or Jesuits steam-rolling over people. The Orthodox missionary process is like the wind in the prairie grass; it echoes the "voice of a gentle breeze"--the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Peace.

The process of conversion is a mystery which we must respect and not interfere with. It is a secret between the heart of a man and God. We sing about this during Matins, in the Hymn of Ascents: "In the Holy Spirit, every soul is quickened, and through cleansing is exalted and made radiant by the Triple Unity in a hidden sacred manner." We can't push it because we'll be responsible if that person converts and then falls away because they weren't ready. If we, through pride, try to interject ourselves, to talk when we shouldn't, we'll be making so much noise that we'll keep a potential convert from hearing that "voice of a gentle breeze." We'll have to answer to God for that.

A Tremendous Debt

The Orthodox Faith is transmitted not only through books, but also through its people, the Body of Christ. Have you ever looked at the pictures of the blew Martyrs of Russia? Have you looked closely at their faces? My church is full of people who are relatives of the New Martyrs. Vladimir Makarich Pavlenko is now 76 years old. When he was a boy of fourteen, his father, Priest-Martyr Macarius, was beaten up by the KGB and dragged away, never to be seen again. There are many stories like this one in my church.

If it weren't for these people, we would not be standing here now. We owe them a tremendous debt. In the remaining time which God has given to us on this earth, we will not be able to do enough to show our gratitude, to pay this debt. These are our fathers in the Faith. They have preserved the Faith so that we might inherit it, whole and untouched. Let us try to do the same for our children. We have not been called upon to witness to the Faith with our blood. Let us at least try to imitate these relatives of the New Martyrs, who have given so much.

We in the Russian Church Abroad have a special responsibility, because of our heritage--the New Martyrs of Russia. Picture a book with millions of pages, one for each of the New Martyrs--his life, his witness to the Faith. This is the Book of Life, and we hope to follow in their footsteps, as it says in the old spiritual, "I want to be in that number when the Saints go marching in." This is an awesome responsibility. Like the Jews who tried to say that they would be favored by God because they were the children of Abraham, we will not get into heaven because we are the children of the church of the New Martyrs, or because we are the home of Saint John Maximovitch. If anything, we will be held responsible for the grace which we received because of these things, and because we did not make use of it.

Missionary work consists not only of helping to bring people into the Church, but also of helping to keep people from falling away, or helping them to return if they have fallen away. In other words, it consists of helping as many people as possible to get on, stay on, or get back on, the Ark of Salvation, so that they are on it when it reaches the farther shore. It consists of loving our neighbors, and thereby helping people to love each other. We have all experienced being in the presence of someone who embodies such love and warmth. Such a person acts like a fire melting wax, softening our hearts, enkindling the Divine fire within our own hearts, that same fire that the Apostles felt on the road to Emmaus when they said, Did not our hearts burn within us?

Instead of finding fault with the way the Church carries out her mission, we must correct our understanding of her mission. Instead of saying, "The bishops aren't doing this or that," or "The Church isn't missionary enough," the question each of us has to ask is, What missionary work am I doing? Am I striving with all of my strength, with all of my heart, soul, mind, and spirit, to love God, and to love my neighbor as myself? Does that Holy Breath blow through my soul unhindered to that of my neighbor? Does my life radiate the Spirit of Peace, that Holy Spirit of which St. Seraphim spoke? If yes, then we can honestly say about ourselves: We are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our duty to do (Luke 17:10). If not, then we can fall down on our faces, and, with team, beg the Lord to give us the Holy Spirit, for we have His promise: If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him? (Luke 11:13).

By Priest George Johnson
(From Orthodox America)

Among many things, the newcomer to Orthodox worship is at once impressed by the fact that our services are continuous song. From first to last, no sound is heard, aside from a sermon, that is not some form of music. Even sermons were of old cast in poetry to be sung, and to most elaborate music at that. Almost the entire content of a service is made for singing. Even the reading is always intoned and becomes inflected in a tune-like manner, never entirely monotonous. This union of word and song spills over from public to private, spontaneous acts of worship. Are Orthodox gathered in pilgrimage at a holy place? At the very least, they will sing a hymn about what happened there. Is a pious person traveling? Whether especially musical or not, he will sing "He that dwellest in the help of the Most High." Is someone soon to die? When the priest comes, those at the bedside and, if possible, the sufferer, will sing the hymns of the Unction service. Where there is Orthodox worship, there is music.
Why is it that music is so wedded to the spiritual life of the Church, to her prayer? This is so because of the power in its beauty, the power to drive deep into the souls of the faithful the memory and meaning of what our Creator and Deliverer does for us, the power to tell to the world these more-than-heroes' deeds in a way that simple speech cannot, the power to ignite our longing for the Heavenly Kingdom. Because of music's great power, the Church has ever carefully husbanded its use. This husbanding does not, however, mean that her music is everywhere cookie-cutter identical. On the contrary, when we hear music from different Orthodox national traditions, we find that no two sound anything alike, unless directly borrowing from each other; but there is ever present a sobriety and spiritual serenity which is the hallmark of Orthodox music, regardless of its dress. This is the result of the Church's care for her worship. The music is never static, it is ever-evolving but always characteristic, representing in its time and mode the treasured and precious inheritance. Since the spiritual life of the Church is so wedded to its music, we in the Church who are musically aware, and therefore responsible, must make it the first call on our effort to know and hold as our own our inherited musical tradition in all its glorious detail. If we would add something of our own, let it first be our open eyes and ears. At all events, complacency should play no part; we should make ourselves merciless skeptics toward our own preconceptions.

We who are converts to the Faith in adulthood have a particular labor to perform. We bring baggage. In our fresh zeal and desire for perfection, we tend to lift items of this baggage to the level of moral or even theological principle. One piece of such baggage is the notion that since everyone can more or less sing, then the only proper worship consists in everyone singing, and that continually. This idea has more to do with a rigorous Calvinism than with Orthodoxy. The historical fact of the matter is that church music has always consisted in some combination of particular and general singing. One is no better than the other in any absolute sense. Everyone knows and sings some of the music; a few know and only they sing some of the music; sometimes, everyone sings all the music, whether they know the music or not. The possibilities exercised vary from time to time, place to place and from occasion to occasion. No one possibility represents the immutable paradigm. Another piece of baggage is a tendency to trust to the tradition as found in books rather than in living tradition. This tendency comes from those religious bodies with legalistic pre-dispositions, having only a legacy of the written word with a nearly inbred distrust of any other type of tradition. Again, with our fresh zeal for perfectionism, on finding a discrepancy between what we have found out in a book and what is done, we try to enforce the thing read and dismiss the thing done. The thing done just happens to be the on-going prayer life of the Church. When we attempt to drive the wedge of our opinions between the faithful and their prayer life, the most likely result is that we will drive a wedge between ourselves and the Church. In any case, the last thing the Church needs is a re-enactment of the Protestant Reformation masquerading as purest Orthodoxy.

Having said all this, no claim is made here that musical prayer life is everywhere perfect as it stands. It is a fact of our fallen world that dust settles on things that must then be cleaned. In human activity, the dust of complacency corrodes the quality of what we do. But as we refresh, let us remember that what we are dealing with is living and spiritual. We have heard the jest: "The operation was a success, but the patient, unfortunately, did not survive." Woe betide us if our actions traumatize the spiritual life of a place and we thereby adorn ourselves with a millstone. When we refurbish, let it be by barely perceptible degrees. Let our work be entirely with pastoral support and consultation. Let our labor reflect a prayerful and expectant patience. Are we part of a new parish and part of getting musical prayer life established? Let our hands build on the best that already exists elsewhere.

All these expressions of work are no metaphorical excess. If we would lead in the Church, in anything, not just music, we must be willing to be humble, tireless workers. When we think we are done, there is, forever and always, more. But what else have we better to do? Once, when visiting our dear, then 95 year-old retired pastor, Father Nicholas Pekatoris (may his memory be eternal), I tried to cut the visit short since he was looking tired, even for his age. As I began to make my good bye, he said, "Oh, Father George, no need to go. Pretty soon I rest, many, many." Let us, like Father Nicholas and countless others, Be not weary in well-doing. For help, let us call on those, like Saint Romanos, Saint John Kukuzelis and all who have kept the song sounding through the ages, to pray for us. Let us strive to be the harp in the hand of God; let all our song be of Him.