The Journey of Great Lent.

Great Lent is a most precious period inour Chruch claendar. It marks an important time to step away from our routine for greater prayer, attend more services, and most importantly, seek where you have been missing the mark in living a life that is ike Christ. With this introspection, you will be prepared to call the office ot arange for the sacrament of confession. with Fr. Tom.  It is normal for Orthodox Christians to participate in this sacrament once or twice a year, or more often if needed.

A central part of Lent is fasting. Today, you may hear many say, Fasting is only for monks and believers. " I don't have any need for such a discipline.” Such a person is probably the one who would benefit the most from this fasting period. 

Fasting is considered by our Church Fathers as necessary for our spiritual growth and not an optional practice. It is a discipline that helps strengthen the spiritual muscle of the will. We are constantly bombarded by temptations to follow our desires without consideration for the Goel teachings. To become like Christ, we need self-restraint, and fasting is a practice that helps us develop this.

How should we fast during Lent? Here are a few ideas from our tradition.

Fist consder you spiriatual goal. Your aimis to become united with Christ, to become like Him, so you are prepared when the time comes to enter into His kingdom with eternal life. To do so, you have a pure heart, but controlling all the passions that live in you. This means following the Commandment of Christ, all of them, notjust the ones you choose.

The Church gives us guidelines to help us determine how togain from the fasting period. It begins in the Triodian period, when we are gradually introduced to a stricter fasting regimen than in the other parts of the year. We are guided through a week of no fasting, then to Wednesday and Friday normal fasting, then to a week without meat, and finally to the Lenten season, when we also give up meat and dairy products.

Lent lasts a long time, so not everyone is prepared for it. Some have medical reasons, and others have not developed a strong fasting tradition. If you have a medical restriction, you can reduce portions or eliminate foods that you favor the most that are not essential for your health.

For those without medical issues, plan simple meals and avoid gourmet ones. Since we live in a food culture with so many options and flavors, you may find it helpful to look for substitutes for dairy and meat products. This will still help develop discipline and a desire to obey the Church's guidelines.

Fasting is not only about food. It is also about clearing our minds of the thoughts that mislead us. Make every effort to avoid sinful activities. Try to limit excessive social media/internet use. Limit screen time or schedule full "digital detox" days. Curtainail uncontrolled negative emotions. Use this time to work on irritations, anger, judgment, and envy. Start tracking those triggers. Abstain from mindless entertainment. You don’t have to give up movies or music completely; instead, opt for more meaningful ones. Be discerning. Do this in a way not to demonstrate publicly, but only privately. Don't let your effort lead to pride. Make this a different quality of your time.

Also, it is a good time to invigorate your daily prayer life. Make. A prayer rule, if you don’t have one. Eliminate time on social media to make time for former prayer. Read a chapter of Scripture daily and the Psalms. If possible, arrange your schedule to attend all available services.

In addition to our effort to improve the interior of our being, make some time for good deeds, helping others in need. Pay attention to how your heart guides you by God’s love.

Lent should be a time of joy as we take time to make Christ more central in ourives. It is not about our own rule but about a time for spiritual growth and stepping out of our self-centered lives, even if only a little. Take time with your family to engage them during this period as well. Make plans. 

Lent is not about perfection or rules—it is about returning to Christ, striving to become more like Him, and preparing for an eternal life with Him in Paradise. Every small step matters. Begin where you are, encourage one another, and let this season become a joyful path toward spiritual renewal. Be thankful that the Lord has given us this time to slow down and rest in His love.

Standing Faithful When Culture No Longer Listens

After a week with family spanning differing ages from young adults, married and unmarried, to my age as an 83-year-old deacon, I was torn by the vast differences in cultural norms that differ from the culture I grew up in. I was troubled not simply because it has changed—cultures always do—but that it now feels overpowering and impervious to influence. It feels like an overwhelming force like a heavy blanket surrounding me that keeps me warm on a cold night, but is so heavy it feels like it can never be removed. Today’s culture feels less like something we participate in and more like something imposed: vast, impersonal, technologically driven, and economically motivated. It seems to move according to forces far beyond my influence. My Orthodox Christian way of life seems secondary, ignored, and sometimes even ridiculed.

This raises a quiet temptation: despair or listlessness. If culture cannot be influenced, why resist it? Why not just adapt, accommodate, withdraw into private comfort, and just surrender to current norms? Yet this is precisely where my Christian calling becomes clearer—not easier, but clearer.

Christ never promised that His followers should try to shape culture, nor that the world would welcome the values of the Kingdom. In fact, He warned us of the opposite. The Gospel does not depend on cultural dominance to be true, nor on social approval to be life-giving. Christianity was born not as a cultural force, but as a faithful witness—often small, often resisted, yet anchored in eternity rather than history’s shifting winds.

The Gospels teach:

“If the world hates you, know that it has hated Me before it hated you.

“If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world… therefore the world hates you.” John 15:18–19

“And you will be hated by all for My name’s sake. But he who endures to the end will be saved. Matthew 10:22

“My Kingdom is not of this world. If My Kingdom were of this world, My servants would fight…” John 18:36

“Enter by the narrow gate… Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.” Matthew 7:13–14

 “Yes, and all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution.” 2nd Timothy 3:12

I gain clarity when I reflect on these passages along with the witness of the early Christians who lived within the Roman Empire, a culture built on power, order, and domination, where human life held little inherent value. The empire worshiped many gods, and even emperors claimed divinity—but these were not gods of love; they were reflections of human power and ambition. Yet this deeply entrenched culture was transformed—not by force or political strategy—but by a small community living faithfully according to the Gospel. Within a few centuries, the spiritual imagination of the empire was reshaped. By the fourth century, the state entered into cooperation with the Church, later described as symphonia, a harmony between Church and government. This change did not arise from coercion, but from the quiet witness of Christians who lived without fear of death, vicious persecution, or cultural threats. With certainty of the life to come, they understood this life as preparation for eternity—and it was this unwavering faithfulness that ultimately changed an empire. Their aim was not to change the culture but to simply live true to their faith.

I realize that I can make a mistake when I assume that faith must win culturally in order to be meaningful. The aim of faith is not to change our culture but to become united with Christ, to live truthfully according to all His teachings. My calling as a Christian must never be to control or change the culture, but to remain faithful within it.

Culture today feels like an immense pressure. It catechizes constantly—through media, economics, entertainment, and technology—striving to train us to see loving relationships as optional, commitments as burdens, and identity as self-constructed, our personal needs and desires as most important. Against this tide, our individual resistance can feel futile. And yet, Christian faith has always resisted this mass influence indirectly. I have learned that this is a way of life that must begin in the heart, overcoming self-centered desires, lived in the Church, experienced in family, embodied in the parish and the sacraments, and sustained through Christ’s love and the comforting work of the Holy Spirit. It involves a way of life based on love, worship, prayer, sacrifice, spiritual disciples, continual study of the Gospel truth, teaching of Church Fathers, and the Church.

To live faithfully today is not to wage a culture war, but to focus on our own life, learning to live in harmony with all of Christ’s teachings:

• to honor our marriage when it is challenged,
• to nurture our family when bonds are weakened,
• to love sacrificially when convenience is offered instead,
• to live for eternity when everything else points only to the moment.
• To keep Christ in the center of everything we do.
• Repent daily when the mark of perfection is missed.
• To live in His divine presence through His Church.

This kind of faithfulness rarely looks impressive. It does not trend. It does not go viral. It may even be ridiculed. But it is precisely this steady, often unseen faithfulness that Christ calls us to. This is the lesson of the early Christians. The Kingdom of God does not advance through cultural force, but through transformed individual lives lived in His Church, rooted in His love.

With new, powerful technological advances like AI, culture may grow louder, faster, and more aggressive in reshaping humanity according to its own image. But it cannot erase the never-changing call of Christ, nor can it extinguish the eternal truth that love, sacrifice, and communion are at the heart of what it means to be human and to grow in the likeness of Christ and be prepared for eternal life.

I must accept that I may not be able to influence culture as I had once hoped. But I can still strive to live truthfully within it. And in doing so, I will bear witness—not to a passing age, but to a Kingdom that does not fade.

Faithfulness, not success, has always been the measure of the Christian life.

Is the Gospel Compatible with American Culture?

Do you assume that your Christian faith fits naturally within American life? We speak easily of “values,” “freedom,” “equality,” and “success,” yet rarely pause to ask a deeper question:

Does the Gospel truly align with the way American culture forms us as human beings?

Do you tend to see this only as a political or social issue? Does it not also concern what kind of persons we are becoming?

American culture largely shapes us around autonomy, comfort, productivity, technology, rationalism, consumption, and visible success.
The Gospel shapes us around love, humility, meekness, repentance, communion, self-offering, and eternal life.

These are not minor differences. They represent two fundamentally different visions of life.

American Cultural Values

Observers and scholars have long noted several defining traits of American society:

• Individualism and personal autonomy: my rights, my privacy, my beliefs, my identity, my choices—the self becomes the final authority.
• Freedom defined as doing whatever one desires: no restraint, no obligation, no authority; happiness and comfort are treated as rights rather than goals requiring discipline.
• Consumerism fueled by material accumulation: my wants, my lifestyle, my convenience, my image—we learn to express identity through what we buy and consume.
• Hedonism: the pursuit of pleasure, entertainment, and comfort, with suffering viewed as meaningless and something to be eliminated at all costs.
• Equality that flattens meaningful distinctions: no higher wisdom, no spiritual authority, no binding tradition—every opinion carries equal weight regardless of experience or holiness.
• Technological progress: faster, smarter, easier—efficiency replaces wisdom, convenience replaces patience, and control replaces humility.
• Success measured by productivity, status, and achievement: worth is determined by output, income, and recognition.
• Secularism: the quiet removal of God from public life and daily consciousness, reducing spirituality to a private preference rather than the foundation of reality.

These are not always explicitly chosen values. They shape our daily habits, expectations, and desires. They quietly teach us what to value, how to measure success, and what it means to be free. Most of us did not consciously choose them—we absorbed them simply by living in this culture.

 And yet, we still call ourselves Christians. 

So we must ask honestly: How does this way of life compare with the way of life revealed in the Gospel?

The Gospel Vision

The Gospel offers something radically different.

It does not aim to produce independent individuals pursuing private happiness.
It seeks to form persons in communion with God.

Where culture says, define yourself,
Christ says, deny yourself.

Where culture says, follow your desires,
Christ says, take up your cross.

Where culture says, succeed,
Christ says, become humble.

Scripture is clear:

• Humility: “Let nothing be done through selfish ambition… Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 2:3–5)
• Meekness: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5:5)
• Purity of Heart: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” (Matthew 5:8)
• Peacemaking: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” (Matthew 5:9)
• Love of God and Neighbor: “You shall love the Lord your God… and your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37–39)
• Self-Denial: “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily.” (Luke 9:23)
• Communion with God: “Abide in Me… without Me you can do nothing.” (John 15:4–5)
• Repentance and Transformation: “Repent, and believe in the gospel.” (Mark 1:15); “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:2)
• Eternal Life as the Goal: “This is eternal life, that they may know You.” (John 17:3); “What will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his soul?” (Matthew 16:26)

The Gospel consistently redirects desire away from autonomy, pleasure, and worldly success toward humility, repentance, communion, and eternal life.

I see two central beliefs driving modern American life: an exaggerated idea of equality that rejects authority, and a notion of freedom defined as doing whatever one wishes. Together they undermine obedience, truth, and spiritual authority. Truth becomes subjective, the self becomes the final authority. The result is extreme individualism, leaving little room for the Church—or even for God.

The Gospel presents a radically different vision. It proclaims universal Truth grounded in the reality that we are creatures lovingly created by God. Made in His image, we are called to love as He loves. This earthly life is temporary—a journey toward perfection in divine love. God sent His Son to overcome death and transform us, offering eternal life through His Kingdom. He gives us a way of life through Christ’s example, the sacraments of the Church, and the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit planted within us.

Without universal Truth, society has no stable foundation. We become subject either to political power or personal opinion. So we must ask ourselves: if we confess the Gospel, can we continue living by these cultural values? Are we guided by patriotism, comfort, pleasure, and success—or by Christ?

Two Definitions of Freedom

American culture defines freedom as limitless choice and pursues happiness through consumption and technology. But the Gospel defines freedom differently—as liberation from sin and the passions, a freedom that enables us to love God, follow His commandments, become like Christ, and be prepared to enter eternal life.

Modern society removes restraints in the name of self-expression, rejecting hierarchy and even the Church’s apostolic order. Christ, however, teaches restraint of the passions so that we may become truly free.

Consumer culture says, You are what you own.
Christ says, Life does not consist in possessions (Luke 12:15).

Technological progress promises mastery over the world and feeds utopian dreams of eliminating suffering and even death—now increasingly invested in AI.

The Gospel offers something different: the healing of the heart. When we are freed from passions, we encounter divine joy and glimpse a greater life beyond this world—eternal life without sickness or death.

The world measures worth by productivity. The Gospel teaches stillness, prayer, and inner transformation. Culture emphasizes doing; Christianity emphasizes being. American progress is external, while Christian progress is inward.

From Consumers to Sons and Daughters of God

Orthodox Christianity understands salvation not as self-improvement, personal success, or the preservation of individual freedom, but as participation in divine life. It stands completely apart from consumer culture’s pursuit of accumulation, comfort, and pleasure. 

As Alexander Schmemann writes in For the Life of the World, secular society reduces life to consumption, while the Church reveals humanity’s true vocation: to receive creation as gift and offer it back to God in thanksgiving.

American culture trains us to become independent consumers—cogs in an invisible system where work becomes burdensome and meaning feels distant. Even great wealth rarely brings peace. The Gospel calls us instead to become humble sons and daughters of God, participants in His grace.

Culture asks, What can you achieve?
The Gospel asks, Who are you becoming?

Conclusion

The question is no longer whether Christianity can survive in America.
The real question is whether we can survive spiritually while uncritically absorbing American values.

We cannot serve both the Gospel and autonomy.
We cannot pursue Christ while clinging to comfort and self-definition.
We cannot confess eternal life while organizing our lives around temporary worldly success.

Christ does not come to improve our lifestyle.
He comes to crucify the old self—and to raise up a new one.

The Gospel is incompatible with any culture that places the self at the center.
It calls every culture—including our own—to repentance.

So each of us must decide:

Will we live as consumers who occasionally pray—
Or disciples who are being transformed?

Will we follow the American dream—
Or will we follow Christ?

Neutrality is not an option.

Christ says:

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me… For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28–30)

Christ does not remove the yoke; He gives us His. And His yoke is light because it is carried in communion with Him

Living Between Two Worlds: Faith and Daily Life

As I watch my grandchildren grow into adulthood—intelligent, sincere, morally serious, and outwardly faithful—I find myself both grateful and troubled. Grateful because they identify as Orthodox Christians, value the Church, and do not reject God. I am troubled because I see a gap between the faith they profess and the life they actually live. They do not seem to have an awareness or an aim of their life that is consistent with their religion, a union with God for eternal life. What unsettles me most is recognizing the same pattern in myself, both now and especially earlier in my life.

This is not about rebellion or disbelief. It is a story of division—not always conscious, often unexamined, and deeply shaped by the world we inhabit.

My grandchildren live busy, responsible lives. They work hard, plan carefully, and pursue what is good. They speak respectfully about prayer, understand the sacramental life, and know—at least intellectually—that God should be central. Yet spiritual practices like prayer are often postponed, squeezed out by schedules, or quietly assumed to be optional. Decisions about work, time, travel, and goals are made thoughtfully, but almost entirely without reference to God and His purpose for us. Faith remains real, but it does not appear to guide. Life appears spiritually aimless.

I don’t see this as hypocrisy. It is something far more subtle and far more common: a life lived with two parallel worldviews, without a clear purpose. 

It is as if we were born into a life with a spiritual purpose, but dropped into a world with a different one. It's like we're in some kind of cocoon, needing to be transformed, but that need is hazy.

On the one hand, there is the sacramental worldview of their faith, which they claim and believe. God exists. The Church is true. The sacraments matter. Prayer is necessary. Orthodoxy is part of their identity. On the other hand, there is the worldview that actually governs daily life—a secular rhythm shaped by efficiency, personal fulfillment, experience, and self-direction. One that ignores any spiritual aim. God is not denied, but He is rarely consulted. Prayer is affirmed, but not relied upon. Faith is respected, but not operative.

In practical terms, it looks something like this:

• God is trusted with salvation, but not with daily direction.
• Prayer is seen as important, but not necessary.
• Life choices are made responsibly, but not prayerfully with a spiritual aim.
• The world is experienced as a field of options, not a place of offering or spiritual growth
• Life is about success in societal terms, not preparing for eternal life.

This produces what I can only describe as a divided attention—a soul pulled between two ways of understanding reality.

What makes this difficult to address is that nothing appears “wrong.” Life is successful. Relationships are stable. Plans are exciting. Travel is enriching. From the outside, everything looks good. And because nothing feels sinful or destructive, the deeper question is never asked: What is my life for before God?

I see this clearly when I watch how experiences are planned, like travel. Trips are designed to see, enjoy, and consume what has not yet been seen—beautiful cities, famous sites, memorable experiences. There is nothing inherently wrong with this. But rarely is the question asked whether such journeys are meant to shape the soul, deepen prayer, cultivate gratitude, or orient the heart more fully toward God. The journey has purpose, but not spiritual direction.

I recognize this because I have lived it myself.

There were many years when I believed deeply, attended church, and affirmed the faith—yet functioned as if my daily life were something I had to manage on my own. I made good decisions, careful decisions, even moral decisions. But I did not always make the offered decisions. I did not instinctively bring my plans, my time, or my desires before God. Prayer was real, but it was not the operating system of my life—it was a support system.

This is perhaps the heart of the problem. Many Christians today, myself included, have been formed to think of prayer as something that helps life, rather than something that runs it. We turn to God when things go wrong, when we are overwhelmed, or when we feel the need for comfort. But we do not naturally turn to Him when things are going well, when opportunities arise, or when choices seem harmless and exciting.

The deeper loss in all of this is the loss of vocation. When life is no longer experienced as a calling from God, it becomes a project of self-authorship. Work becomes career-building. Travel becomes experience-gathering. Time becomes something to manage. Even faith becomes something we fit in rather than something we live from.

I do not believe this condition is unique to young adults. I see it in myself, in peers, and in entire communities. It is the air we breathe. We have inherited a world that teaches us—quietly and constantly—that we are responsible for creating meaning, direction, and fulfillment on our own. God may exist, but life is ours to design.

And yet, the Orthodox vision of life says something radically different: that life itself is an offering, that the world is sacramental, and that nothing—work, rest, travel, success, or failure—is spiritually neutral. God created us with a purpose: to become like Him, so we can return to His kingdom with eternal life, and a new one begins.

What gives me hope is that this divided life is not necessarily a final state. Often it is a stage, one shaped by modern conditions rather than conscious rejection. Integration tends to come slowly, sometimes through suffering, sometimes through stillness, sometimes through the quiet realization that self-direction has limits. I know from my own life that I have lived through many stages.

As a grandfather and someone still learning, I have come to believe that my role is to live, as best I can, a more integrated life. A life where prayer is not forced but natural. Where my acts become more like Christ's. Where I am constantly aware of His presence in me. Where decisions are discerned, not merely optimized. Where God is not invoked only in crisis, but consulted in freedom.

If my grandchildren—or anyone—are ever to bridge the divide between the sacramental faith they profess and the secular rhythm they live, it will be through seeing that such integration is possible, life-giving, real, and necessary for eternal life.

And that work, I am still learning, begins with me.

Listlessness, Discouragement, and Depression — An Orthodox View

There is a state of the soul known to the early Church Fathers as listlessness (ἀκηδία (akēdia))

Evagrius (345–399 AD) sees this as the demon of listlessness: no longer love; God no longer cares for you; cuts off hope; shuts off the holy light from the soul; no longer dare to seek mercy of God with prayers; want to cry but terrible thought suppress tears; lasts for days on end; you want to scream about your discouragement and boredom; can make you sick; lose patience; feel crazy; then cry like a baby. In this condition, it can seem like there is no way out. This condition is experienced on the spiritual path for those who are advanced and strong spiritually but for those who are weak, it can lead to a desire for suicide after going through insanity.

The Fathers teach that listlessness often arises when a passion—an illusion of happiness or fulfillment—can no longer be satisfied. The soul, having expected life or meaning from something created, finds only frustration. When this frustration persists, it can lead to apathy, despair, and a sense that there is no way forward. The soul does not necessarily reject God; rather, it feels unable to reach Him.

For those who are spiritually strong, this state may become a battlefield where deeper humility and trust in God are forged. But for those who are weak, wounded, or already burdened, listlessness can become overwhelming and dangerous. The Fathers speak with great sobriety here: prolonged discouragement can distort perception, suppress tears, weaken the body, and in severe cases give rise to thoughts of escape from life itself. In such moments, the person is not guilty—they are suffering.

It is essential to say clearly: this condition is an illness of the soul, and often of the body as well. It may resemble what modern psychology calls depression, and the two can exist together. The Church does not oppose medical care in such cases. Medicine may help stabilize the body and mind so that the soul can breathe again. Seeking help is not a lack of faith; it is an act of humility and wisdom.

The Fathers do not burden the weak with heroic demands. They offer mercy.

When prayer feels impossible, they do not say, “Pray harder,” but rather, do not abandon prayer entirely. Even a single phrase—“Lord, have mercy,” or “Help me”—repeated without feeling, is enough. Prayer in this state is not about joy or clarity; it is about remaining turned toward God, even in darkness.

They also teach that the body must be cared for: regular meals, rest, simple activity, and structure are not distractions from spiritual life, but supports for it. Listlessness feeds on isolation and disorder. Therefore, one should not remain alone. Speaking with a priest, a trusted believer, or simply being in the presence of another person can quietly restore hope.

Most importantly, the Fathers remind us that hope does not have to come from within us. When the soul cannot hope, the Church hopes for it. When prayer feels empty, the prayers of others carry us. God’s mercy does not depend on our emotional strength. Christ remains faithful even when we feel abandoned or numb.

If you are experiencing this state, know this:
You are not broken.
You are not rejected by God.
You are not failing at the spiritual life.

You are wounded—and Christ came precisely for the wounded.

Remain where you are. Ask for help. Do not believe the thoughts that tell you there is no way out. This darkness does not define you, and it will not have the final word.