Second-year seminarian Fr. Gabreil Alemayehu was recently ordained in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and is a member of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. In January 2014, he participated in the Festival of Young Preachers in Indianapolis, IN, along with his mentor The Rev. Dr. Sergius Halvorsen, professor of Homiletics and Rhetoric. (View Fr. Gabreil's Festival homily on YouTube.)
It was my great surprise to meet another person wearing a cassock after delivering my sermon at the 2011 Academy of Preachers' Festival of Young Preachers. It was at this Festival that I was introduced to Fr. Sergius Halvorsen. Who knew that he would be my mentor when I went to preach at the 2014 Festival of Young Preachers, which was hosted by the Academy of Preachers in January 2–4, 2014 in Indianapolis, IN? During that festival, over 110 Christian preachers of different traditions meditated on the questions of the soul. Amongst these preachers, Brian Cheney, Andrew Boyd (SVOTS '12), Fr. Lucas Rice (SVOTS '11), and I represented the Orthodox tradition.
With the guidance of Fr. Sergius, I preached from Exodus 4:1, the text where God asks Moses, "What is that in your hand?" In my sermon, I explored how we must recognize what God has bestowed upon us and offer it back to God. After recognizing what he had in his hand, Moses offered up his staff and through it was able to fulfill the task given to him by God. Later, what Moses held in his hand was used to raise up the serpent that healed the cursed children of Israel. Like Moses, We should also use what we have in our hands to raise up the real cure of our souls, Jesus Christ. Events like the Festival of Young Preachers are what encourage young people to offer up to God whatever they have in their hands.
During one morning session at the festival, we heard Dr. Frank Thomas, a professor at Christian Theological Seminary, preach a sermon titled, "A Basin, Water Pitcher, and a Towel" in which he reminded young preachers to embody the humility of Christ who grabbed a basin, water pitcher, and towel as a servant to wash the feet of His disciples. Another night, we heard Fr. Lucas Rice, an alumnus of St. Vladimir's, who preached about the power of Christ to transform the weaknesses in our lives.
Not only did the Festival allow us young preachers to preach and to listen to other preachers, it also allowed us to develop our preaching skills by attending different workshops organized throughout the event. One of these workshops, titled "Sacramental Preaching," was led by our own Fr. Sergius Halvorsen, who, using an icon, illustrated the effectiveness of using images in preaching and presented some rhetorical devices useful in effective preaching.
It was a wonderful experience to learn about the tradition of others, especially the different forms of preaching that exist among Christians of different traditions. At the festival no two presenters were alike. The event illustrated the significance of preaching the Good News of Jesus Christ and the beauty found in the different traditions. I am glad I had the chance to participate!
I am on the road to becoming a hospital chaplain. I started attending SVOTS eight years ago as a half time student. My youngest child was ten, my husband no longer required my help in his business ; I wanted to go back to school. I am the manager of my church's bookstore and my love of books made me curious about the courses at SVOTS. I heard Fr. John Erickson, Dean of the Seminary at the time, speak inspiringly that the mission of SVOTS was to educate lay leadership for the church as well as clergy and I applied to seminary. At my SVOTS interview it was suggested by Dr. Rossi that I consider the Masters of Divinity program. He warned that I would have to take Greek. My response was "bring it on, I'm ready!" I enjoyed Greek, but what really made a deep impression on me was the mandatory experience of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), the training for hospital chaplaincy. It's more challenging than Greek.
CPE is a unique combination of classes, individual mentoring, visits to patients, and growth within a peer group. The supervisor and six students meet regularly to share verbatims, actual conversations between a student and patient (whose name is not disclosed). The verbatim reveals much about the state of the patient, emotionally and spiritually, as well as the CPE student. It is a great arena for strengthening one's faith as well as seeing and discarding unnecessary personal baggage. (Read about CPE.)
I looked forward to the group work we did in CPE but not the hospital visits. This is ironic as I am a registered nurse. I had not worked much in an acute hospital setting and I did not relish the idea of being with very ill patients in rooms with noisy, futuristic medical equipment. Neither illness nor complicated machines are on the list of my favorite things. But Fr. Stephen Belonick, Dean of Students at that time, encouraged me to embrace chaplaincy, saying it was like diving into the water, taking the plunge with God's help. In retrospect this is amusing, since diving is at the top of the list of my least favorite things.
That first year I found my niche working with psychiatric patients, alcoholics and addicts. Then, for a while, I had second thoughts about chaplaincy, and explored the option of a combined social work/Mdiv degree. However, through God's grace, an event happened that guided me to my calling as a chaplain. The hospital five minutes from my house hired its first CPE supervisor. That meant that instead of my having to commute an hour to Yonkers, New Haven, or Hartford three days a week (in addition to SVOTS classes) I could train within my community. The new supervisor had thirty years of experience and was well aware of SVOTS, having had an SVOTS alumnus as his student.
I love CPE at Danbury Hospital. It is constantly a challenge and very fulfilling. I have had the opportunity to work in the intensive care unit, on the behavioral health unit, and in the emergency room as well as regular hospital floors. I have patients who are having minor surgery and patients who are dying. The training I have had through CPE in listening to and being present for the patient (setting aside my own agenda), along with inviting patients to talk about and explore their relationship with God has allowed me to experience many blessings during my visits. Praying for, and with, patients has been a great joy. My education at SVOTS has given me a strong foundation in my Orthodox faith from which I can reach out to Christians and non-Christians alike. In particular, my study of Old and New Testament has grounded me. It has helped my prayer life so that I can be a silent, prayerful, witness. All this has born fruit. While training at Danbury Hospital I was hired as the on call chaplain for evenings, weekends and nights for all non Roman Catholic patients. Currently there is a proposal submitted by the Spiritual Care department to hire me half time starting in July. At that time I will seek to be commissioned by the OCA as an Orthodox hospital chaplain. All this because I like books! Glory to God who sees what we cannot, who knows the needs of all His children!
Beryl Knudsen lives in Danbury CT. She was raised in an observant Jewish home, converted to Christianity at the age of 24, and became Orthodox at age 32.. When not studying at SVOTS or at Danbury Hospital she can be found at home with her husband Joseph, her twenty three year old daughter, Joanna, her eighteen year old daughter, Elizabeth, and almost four year old grandson Gabriel (plus two ferrets and a cat). She is a member of Saints Peter and Paul Orthodox Church in Bethel CT, a mission of the OCA. She likes road trips and has fully taken advantage of her daughter's college search to "get out of Dodge" and enjoy a change of scenery.
I always thought that studying theology abroad would be a good way to understand faith from a different perspective than the one in which I was raised. Yet I had no way of knowing that God would fulfill this desire by leading me to St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary, a place thousands of miles from Romania.Growing up in a predominantly Orthodox country like Romania, you are surrounded by tradition and likely to have the blessing of growing up as an Orthodox Christian, but it can be difficult not to take the Faith for granted. I thought that studying Orthodoxy in a place where it is not as common as it is in Romania could strengthen me and make me appreciate even more the Faith with which God has blessed me. Looking back on my journey from Romania to St. Vladimir’s, I can see how God has been working in my life to make all of this possible.
My American journey started with a phone call from a music professor whom I knew from my seminary in Bucharest. He called me hoping I could help him find theological students who were willing to be part of a choir to participate in the World Choir Games in Cincinnati, Ohio. He invited me to join the choir, and in July 2012, after six months of hard work, our choir arrived in the United States. For most of us, this was our first trip here. With the help of Fr. Daniel Ene, the secretary of the Romanian Archdiocese in the Americas, we were able to visit the Romanian parishes on the East Coast. After visiting the parishes in Philadelphia, Rochester, and Chicago, we finally stopped at St. Nicholas Romanian Orthodox Church in New York.
Father Ene told me how he had come to the United States, and how he had been accepted into the Masters program at St. Vladimir’s. I was fascinated to hear about this renowned Orthodox theological institute. To be accepted here seemed something very hard for me to accomplish, but I put everything in the hands of God.
About two months after returning to Romania, my path to St. Vladimir’s began to unfold. Father Ene informed me that there was a possibility of my being accepted as a student, since a new partnership was forming between St. Vladimir’s and the Orthodox Theological Faculty in Bucharest, where I was a student. In the spring of 2013, Fr. John Behr would visit Bucharest to sign this partnership, enabling Romanian seminarians to be accepted at St. Vladimir’s. What wonderful news!
Another obstacle remained: how to fund my study? Whatever financial aid I might receive from St. Vladimir’s, the remaining amount would still be difficult to cover. Again, God provided. While I was still dreaming of how I might study in the United States, I received a phone call from one of the parishioners at St. Nicholas Church, where I had visited the previous year. Without even knowing about my desire to study at St. Vladimir’s, he asked me to come to the United States to be the singer for his parish. The parish in New York, St. Nicholas Romanian Orthodox Church, agreed to sponsor my tuition in exchange for my service as a singer. Thus, God solved my financial problem.
Looking back, I realize that everything has happened according to God’s plan. As the Psalmist says:“How many are your works, O LORD! In wisdom you made them all”(Psalms 14:24).
Now, I find myself halfway through the first year of the Masters program at St. Vladimir’s, and I praise God for guiding me onto this path in His goodness and wisdom. As Fr. John Behr often reminds us, it is only retrospectively that we can see how God has been working in our lives. I give glory to God as I reflect on how He has cared for me all this time.
I am a first year M.A. student from Bucharest, Romania. I have studied Theology for the past 11 years, beginning with the Orthodox Theological Seminary in Bucharest and continuing with the Faculty of Orthodox Theology of the Bucharest University. I also have a Masters Degree in Systematics. Before coming to the U.S. I was President of the Cantus Domini Choir, a Romanian choral group, which participated at the World Choir Games in Cincinnati, Ohio in 2012 and at the European Choir Games in Gratz, Austria in 2013. I am passionate about music and traveling, and am interested in meeting new people and making new friends. Also, being European, I like soccer!
Over the summer I had the wonderful privilege of working on a farm every day. My fiancé Jeremy manages a beautiful little farm just outside of Eugene, Oregon, where he grows all kinds of organic produce. After one year of seminary, it was a welcome change to engage in physical labor, to say the least. Above all it was refreshing to be in my home state, to work alongside my fiancé, and to be part of a different rhythm as the structure of seminary life made way for the demands of the growing season.
Since I have experience with farming, people often comment to me about how beautiful and peaceful it is, that farming must be God's work, that I must have so many spiritual metaphors to draw from the experience of farming. In many respects, they are right. Farmers get to cultivate land and plants, watch things grow, and spend constant time out of doors. Very few experiences have given me the sense of wonder at creation as much as watching a miniscule seed grow into a vegetable, both beautiful and nourishing. It is satisfying to feed ourselves and others with the literal fruit of our labors. There is so much to learn from this kind of work!
Yet I find myself wary of "spiritual metaphors," if only because it can be a great temptation to idealize farming. There certainly are metaphors to be had, and Christ Himself often employed images from agriculture in His teachings (and let me tell you, it is extremely hard to spend endless days pruning unruly tomatoes andnotmeditate upon John 15, where Christ says we must be pruned to be fruitful). It is, however, easy to underestimate the sheer amount of work involved in farming. Though beautiful, it is a very hard life, not just a pleasant day job (as someone quipped to me recently, "5 to 9 is not 9 to 5!"). Probably the one spiritual equivalent which has stood out to me is this: it is a heck of a lot of hard work. And you cannot stop. For a farm to work, you must tend it faithfully and constantly, and the fruit is rarely immediate. Sometimes a whole crop just fails. Disappointment and weariness can tempt you to throw in the spade, especially when you realize how little control you really have. I find prayer to be very similar. To pray and draw close to God is a constant, not a sometime, action; neither happens by itself, and "results" are not always apparent.
But it is rarely worth it to quit, in farming and certainly when it comes spiritual effort. Both farming and seminary have taught me this. The past year as a seminarian and a farmer, rich with blessings and struggles, has shown me the value of difficult work and persistence. Wherever I am or whatever I am doing—Oregon, New York, farm, or seminary—can be the means of deepening my trust in God and my courage to face life's difficulties.
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Ashli Moore is in her second and final year of the Master of Arts program at St. Vladimir's Seminary. She is currently working on a thesis project, which is a model for an Orthodox Christian School that she hopes to implement in her home parish in Eugene, Oregon (pronounced "Orygun"). In her other life, however, she works on Excelsior Farm owned by her fiancé Jeremy, to whom she is getting married in July. A native of Portland (you may get Portlandia references out of your system at this time), Ashli misses many elements about the Northwest, especially its many tea houses, excellent second–hand clothing stores, and of course, the rain.
The beginning of an academic year is always exciting. We welcome new seminarians, we meet their families, and we begin new programs and new community assignments. Seniors consider what they will do once they graduate, while juniors learn how to manage their busy seminary lives.
The Academic Year 2013–14 is certainly shaping up to be a unique one. We are celebrating our 75th anniversary, we have inaugurated the first Father John Meyendorff Lecture, and we are getting ready to host the Fall 2013 Orthodox Inter–Seminary Movement (OISM) event. And this is only the beginning! We can look forward to many more exciting events throughout the year.
This year, we welcomed one of the largest incoming classes that St Vladimir's has seen in many years. We have 39 new seminarians joining 28 returning students. This incoming class is roughly three times the size of my class!
This new class is also diverse. The new students come from various jurisdictions and Churches, age groups, academic and working environments, and cultural backgrounds. The international component is also very significant; we have students from Egypt, India, Estonia, Russia, and Canada, among others. We can all benefit enormously from the different traditions present at St Vladimir's through a respectful and enriching conversation among the various expressions of faith in Jesus Christ.
Additionally, we are not only living as neighbors, but through our community assignments we are asked to serve each other. This requires patience and humility at times, but it is a priceless opportunity to learn from one another, support one another, and establish relationships which will last for the rest of our lives. I cannot think of a better or more practical way of forming people who are going to serve in pastoral ministry and church leadership.
We don't just look inward, however. As we often state, we take on the task to communicate Orthodox Christianity to the world, inviting all to partake of the fullness of the Faith. In accordance with this principle, the student body elects a Student Council which aims to strengthen student participation in campus life, but also encourages outreach beyond the seminary community through designated projects, charities, and causes.
As Student Council President, I work with five other seminarians who represent the students of the Th.M., M.Div. and M.A. programs. At our first general meeting, I emphasized the importance of the Council, since it's been an effective liaison between the Administration and the student body these last few years. I also noted that we will continue to encourage outreach ministry beyond the community. In the past year, great work has been accomplished thanks to the two student interest groups, the pro-life St. Ambrose Society and the St. Herman of Alaska Ecology Group. Several students are also in the process of forming an interest group to focus on cross–cultural missions.
The 2013-14 academic year will be busy and will require a lot of work from all of us. However, we approach it with excitement and joy. Glory to God for all things!
Sandro Margheritino is an M.Div. student at SVOTS from the Diocese of the Midwest (OCA). Born and raised in Palermo, Italy, he was raised in a Roman Catholic family and came to Orthodoxy at the age of 18, after which he majored in International Relations – Political Science at the University of Palermo.Sandro's wife Anna was born in Moscow, Russia, and she currently works as an iconographer.Sandro has served as short-term missionary in Albania and Kenya in the past two years. Deeply inspired by his Italian roots, he is passionate about food and cooking, art, traveling and, of course, espresso!
As a first–year Master of Arts (M.A.) student at SVOTS, I sing soprano in the mixed choir, am treasurer of the Orthodox Ecology Group on campus, and am especially enjoying the Patristics course that I am taking this semester. I am also the lone Byzantine Catholic student of St. Vladimir's Seminary.
When I first arrived on campus this fall, this made for some slightly awkward discussions as my fellow students incrementally figured it out: "So, where are you from?"
"Harrisburg, Pennsylvania."
"Oh, I think I know the priest there. What's his name again?"
Then, the big revelation: "Actually, I go to the church across the street from that parish—I'm Byzantine Catholic."
Gulp. During my first days here, I would hold my breath after answering these kinds of questions, waiting to see how my classmates would respond. I was, after all, an Eastern Catholic studying at an Orthodox seminary (which makes me a bit of an oddity). After a week or so, my initial trepidation waned and I could breathe easier, because everyone here met me with love.
Gabrielle Kushlan
The students and staff here at the Seminary universally welcomed me with friendly solicitude and curiosity. Some differences remain evident—for example, I go to Divine Liturgy elsewhere on Sunday, and Lent started much earlier for me—but in everyday life at the Seminary these divergences seem very small. My fellow students and I eat together in the refectory, worry about our Greek quizzes together, struggle through those Thursday night choir rehearsals side by side, and pray together at weekday Matins and Vespers. When Hurricane Sandy hit the campus this past October, knocking out the electricity, many of us congregated in our dorm's Common Room, singing songs by candlelight and cooperating to contrive ways to make hot coffee in the morning.
These and many other moments helped to unite our class, bringing us together in communal life without obscuring our diversity. We come from the East Coast, West Coast, and all over the world, from differing jurisdictions, and some of us even from Oriental Orthodox or Eastern Catholic churches. But in one way or another we are all here because we want to serve Christ's Church and know that St. Vladimir's is an ideal place to come and be formed for this service. It is a great blessing to have the chance to be here together, to pray together daily, talk about our faith in Christ, and reassure each other in our dedication to serve Him. The fact that we come from different churches which are not in communion becomes—for me at least—an ever–present reminder of the heartache of schism: that we are separated from our brothers and sisters whom we love. In communal life, day–to–day interactions help to free us from stock images of each other, so that when we do discuss our differences and divisions, we are prepared to do so from the perspective of friends, of brothers and sisters in Christ.
Time at seminary flies by quickly, and soon enough we will all be spread out again across far distances and different jurisdictions. I trust, though, that these friendships that we have built will endure long past graduation and will serve as a reminder of those who are separated from us and our common love for Christ's Church.
A first–year student reflects on his start in seminary, and on Sandy's impact.
I was called to attend St. Vladimir's Seminary to study for the priesthood when I was 14 years old, when my priest Fr. Boniface Black suggested the idea to me. The thought remained in the back of my mind and eventually penetrated my heart. The turning point came years later when one Sunday, while serving in the altar, I looked first at the priest, Fr. Anthony Baba, and then at the altar boys. As my eyes vacillated between them, I realized for the first time that I looked more like the priest than the altar boys, and that it was time for me to attend seminary!
Arriving here, I learned that we all initially embarked on this new journey of study and service for many different reasons. Yet whatever the reasons that brought us here, we quickly discovered that Saint Vladimir's is a place that will prepare us for our future lives in Christ's Church. From the first week of classes on, we were regularly reminded that Christ is the foundation of our life here, and that our time is His. The emphasis, we were told, is on our daily formation. We began to participate in a steady routine of study, service, and worship, which most of us had not been accustomed to in our former lives.
We found out that it is a challenge to wake in the morning and remember Him, it is a challenge to remember Him during the day's routine, it is a challenge to go to rest at night and remember Him still. Saint Vladimir's reinforced this approach to life, by being a place where we were encouraged to remember Him always.
By the time a few months passed, most of us had adjusted to the daily life cycle, and had seen growth in many aspectsof our personalities. We had been stretched spiritually, mentally, physically, and emotionally. We were immersed in an incredibly busy schedule of study, prayer, and work. We'd learned to diligently attend classes, write papers, and read books. We were beginning to feel relatively comfortable.
Then Hurricane Sandy hit, and we discovered many new things about ourselves that were difficult to admit. We had become accustomed to having light at night, hot showers in the morning, a regular prayer cycle, and daily classes, but when the power went out for many consecutive days and nights, we felt powerless in more ways than one. Our routine, which was challenging to adjust to initially, was now the routine that we desperately desired. We lost two weeks of precious study and class time.
However, the time spent living by candlelight, was precious in and of itself. Many of us wrote out the Psalms by hand in the candlelight, and discovered how the Scriptures were handed down to us. Many of us lived as our ancestors lived before electricity, and we counted our blessings, and gained a new appreciation for our life and routine at Saint Vladimir's Seminary.
Jabra was born in Amman, Jordan and raised with his five siblings by faithful Orthodox parents in suburban Philadelphia, PA, where he attendedSt. Philip Orthodox Church (Antiochian Archdiocese) in Souderton. In recent years, he moved to Texas, where he attendedSt. Anthony the Great Orthodox Church(Greek Orthodox Archdiocese) in the town of Spring. He is engaged to be married this summer to "the beautiful, sweet Gabriella Mobayed" of Sugar Land, Texas.Jabra serves on the Student Councilat St. Vladimir's as one of two first–year representatives.
In his free time, Jabra enjoys reading news articles about current affairs and managing his fantasy football teams. An extrovert, Jabra loves being around people and learning about them. He especially enjoys studying the lives of the saints, and reading biographies about people in politics who have maintained their integrity.
A third–year Antiochian seminarian writes about serving at a liturgy in which his patriarch, His Beatitude Ignatius IV, presided
His Beatitude Patriarch Ignatius IV (Hazim) of Antioch and all the East, His Eminence The Most Rev. Metropolitan Philip, archbishop of New York and Metropolitan of All North America,and The Right Rev. Nicholas, bishop of Brooklyn and resident assistant to the Metropolitan, visited St. Nicholas Cathedral in Brooklyn, New York on Sunday October 21, 2012, for Matins and Divine Liturgy. Bishop Nicholas celebrated the liturgy, aided by the Vicar-General of the Antiochian Archdiocese, The Very Rev. Thomas Zain, and other assistants. Among those were several seminarians from St. Vladimir's Seminary, who participated in the service with His Beatitude, who had arrived from Syria on October 16.
In the beautiful and spirit–filled liturgy, all of the Antiochian seminarians and the faithful were inspired with HisBeatitude's words, especially when he told us, his listeners, thatweare the ones who givehimstrength. Remembering the suffering of our loved ones overseas, a collection was taken by the faithful of St. Nicholas Cathedral and St. Mary Church of Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, to help the Patriarch minister to the victims of the ongoing civil war in Syria.
It was deeply inspiring to see how much love and respect there is between our hierarchs, and it was a blessing to sense how our spiritual "father of fathers" loves and cares for his children in North America. In turn, he informed us that we provide inspiration for him. Amazingly, His Beatitude is in his mid–90's. May God continue to give him strength, and grant him many years!
A third–year seminarian writes about gaining a new perspective through prison ministry
I had an appointment to meet with the prison chaplain in his office at 1:00 p.m. I arrived my habitual ten minutes early. Actually, it was probably earlier than that, because I wasn’t sure how long it would take to clear prison security. I emptied my pockets, walked through a metal detector, signed a logbook—the result was an odd feeling of boarding an airplane mixed with visiting a nursing home.
I sat in that waiting building for fifteen minutes or so as the guards paged the chaplain I was supposed to meet. No answer, no answer. Finally they offered to take me to his office where I could wait for him, and perhaps meet one of the other chaplains. I obliged and followed the guard on the short walk outside. Arriving at the chaplain’s department, I found one guard in the corridor and four inmates inside the chaplain’s office doing clerical work. My escorting guard told me to sit in the office and wait for the chaplain.
So I was left in a small office with four prisoners, serving sentences of thirty years to life, while a guard lounged in the corridor. Welcome to your prison chaplaincy internship.
I wasn’t scared, but I wasn’t at ease either. To break the ice I mentioned to one of the inmates that my grandmother had volunteered at this prison for the last fifteen or so years of her life. When I spoke her name a reverential silence descended. She was, in fact, admired greatly by the inmates at this prison. I remember at her funeral receiving a card from the men of her Bible study, and they mentioned the grace she reflected to them after communicating her diagnosis of breast cancer.
Chaplain Pall finally arrived—he was detained in an administrative meeting. Like many men who enter the ministry, Chaplain Pall discovered that a large part of his job was organizational and clerical. He spends probably half of his day investigating and discerning the validity of various inmate requests—most often for facial hair or long beards (from Muslim inmates), dietary restrictions, possession of religious articles. He is very good at his job, both as a spiritual director and an administrator. He demonstrated his acumen by showing me all the elements that were going into the audit from the head chaplain of the state prisons—the contents of which the inmates were collecting as I waited for him.
It took me some time to digest the complex difference between state and county prisons. In our first year of seminary we were required to do ten sessions or so of Bible study at a local county jail. “Counties” have a reputation for being rougher. They are, by design, temporary institutions. Usually the maximum sentence someone will serve at a county jail is three years; it also holds people awaiting sentencing, before they’re transferred to state prisons. As a result, county jails have a high turnover rate, and perhaps a worse distinction for violence.
State prison, on the other hand, is a different world. For people in spiritual states of instability, it offers stability. Chaplain Paul described it like living on a cruise ship, in the sense that everything one needs is offered on–site. Some men went in knowing they would spend no more than ten years there. (There’s a quote from the HBO seriesThe Wire: “You only do two days: the day you come in…and the day you get out.”) Others entered with life sentences.
Many of the men involved in the chaplain’s department were serving life sentences. In fact, they nearly considered it a virtue that they had no hope of getting out, yet they had turned and devoted their lives to Christ through service. The men I spoke with frowned upon those who “got religion” in order to look better for a parole review board, or a commutation hearing.
Talking with the inmates prompted my question: how does one find salvation on a cruise ship? Or, in other words, what does it mean to be saved when we can’t “do” anything in response? Most often as Christians we are obsessed with “doing things” in order to show our faith. “OK. I believe in Jesus Christ, I believe in the Orthodox Church. Now what?” The classical Christian response has been the triumvirate of prayer, fasting, and charity. But we always look for ways in which our belief in Christ actually changes the way we live, the way we understand our routines —we so often want to offer a testimony.
In prison, so much is dictated to the inmates. There is very little in terms of the modern god of “choice,” very few identity markers we hold onto in order to differentiate ourselves from others.
I think in prison this process of salvation–by–renewed–understanding is even more clear; it takes great determination, struggle, and prayer to reorient one’s understanding, one’s vision of life, in terms of Christ and his struggle.
InLes Misérables, Victor Hugo focuses on the difference between Jean Valjean’s experience in prison—a sort of forced monasticism—and his experience living as the caretaker of a convent. “On one side, robbery, fraud, violence, lust, homicide, every sort of sacrilege, every variety of offense; on the other, one thing only— innocence”. Although the “penitentiary” format of corrections is no longer favored in America (the idea that putting offenders in solitary confinement with a Bible would lead them to repentance was abandoned in the early 20th century), there is still “every sort of sacrilege, every variety of offense” in prisons. Yet there is still innocence—innocence through Christ.
So, of course, there are still men in prison like one inmate I met—serving a life sentence for murdering his ex–wife, but who was hoping that through his good behavior and volunteership in the chaplain’s office he could receive a commutation. But there are also men who, like another inmate I knew, exude a certain sense of tranquility and silence, knowing that they are physically in chains but remain exuberant in living and proclaiming the gospel (Eph. 6:20). As Orthodox Christians, we can learn much from the mindset of the prisoner: examining our actions, our thoughts, our lives, to make sure that we are only being motivated by Jesus Christ.
The Prison Ministry Field Experience at St. Vladimir's began as a glimmer in the mind of Trustee Attorney Eric Namee in 2009. Since then, it has blossomed into a collaborative effort between the Seminary and the Orthodox Christian Prison Ministry (OCPM), particularly with the active and helpful participation of Chaplain Patrick Tutella, executive director at OCPM.
Seminarians train for prison ministry under the mentorship and guidance of The Rev. Dr. Nicholas Solak, a SVOTS alumnus who currently is rector at Holy Trinity Church in Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania. For the very first time, beginning fall semester 2012, Prison Ministry Field Experience began to be offered as a 1-credit class.Read another student reflection about prison ministry here.
Harrison Basil Russin is a third–year student in the M.Div. program, and the recipient of the Seminary's 2012 St. Basil the Great Award for Academic Achievement. This article was reprinted with permission from the editors of the blog“Wonder,”a publication of the Department of Youth, Young Adult, and Campus Ministries of the Orthodox Church in America (OCA).
I am not what one would call a stereotypical monk. From my days as a novice I have been given “obediences,” that is to say I’ve accepted certain tasks given to me by my spiritual father, that have taken me out of the confines of coenobitic monastic life. On many occasions and for varying stretches of time I have not partaken of a daily cycle of services. Often, I have been the only monastic in whichever community I happen to find myself, and I’ve eaten many meals without the company of another monastic. Reflecting on my past, I for all intents and purposes seem to have been completely outside of the monastic lifestyle.
And yet, I have found myself in these (for a monk) precarious positions because of obedience, and so for this reason I don’t particularly feel as though I have ever left the monastery. I have been granted the gift of accomplishing specific work, with the blessing of my spiritual father, in a manner that I pray is unto my salvation. I have no complaints in this regard; the work that I’ve been given and the circumstances that have resulted have never made me doubt my monastic vocation, but have instead worked to grant me the possibility of surrendering more completely to God, if I only accept the opportunity.
This is not to say, however, that all of my experiences have been particularly easy. No,much like anyone else there have been times when I’ve greatly missed the community life to which I still feel greatly called, and I have desired the friendship of individuals who have undertaken the same struggle. So one can imagine just how thankful I am to find myself in the midst of a community whose daily rhythm is dictated by the divine services, who shares meals together, and who have conscientiously responded in obedience to God’s calling by undertaking a common struggle. For a monastic, seminary life seems to be pretty ideal.
My daily schedule here is similar to that of the monastery, though for obvious reasons with not quite the same nuances. Every morning we assemble for Matins, every evening we assemble for Vespers. Saturdays and Sundays are dedicated to the preparation and celebration of the Lord’s Resurrection, and the Divine Liturgy is celebrated according to the festal cycle. During feasts and fasts, the divine services are increased. I have one or two daily jobs for which I am responsible, and just like in the monastery, I know to be on the lookout for the Dean of Students, who always seems to have one or two more tasks that require volunteers. Just like in the monastery too, mistakes are made, someone misses a responsibility, and plans change. And just like in the monastery, the community works together to cover for the mistake, to pick up the responsibility, and to adapt. Life goes on, and the community grows closer together, bearing up one another’s burdens for the sake of Jesus Christ and the gospel message.
Classes and homework seem to take up every other spare moment, but this is joyous work—surely there could be worse things then studying the fathers, the history of the church and its many elements, and scripture. My classmates are studious and respectful, and thankfully it is not difficult to find the quiet that is so conducive to study. (Although findingenoughof it may be another matter altogether!) Much like at the monastery, there is always something new and challenging before me. I am continuously encouraged by my studies to evaluate my life and move past the “old Adam,” in hopes of more fully acting in accordance with the will of God. What more could one ask for?
Given the overall theme of this my reflection, one should again not be surprised that I have been granted even more blessings than what I’ve already mentioned. That is, I’ve also been granted a community of monastics here on campus that I can without hesitation call “my brothers.” There are four of us here on campus now, and we interact with the campus in varying capacities, some teaching classes or lecturing and others as students. We grow in our commitment to each other daily, learning from and inspiring each other to seek Christ more completely. In a way I’m thankful that I’ve been allowed to experience monasticism outside of a monastery before coming to St. Vladimir’s, because I’m not sure that I’d appreciate just how rich the small monastic community here on campus is if that weren’t the case. This is not to say, of course, that St. Vladimir’s has a fully functional monastery within its boundaries—that much is simply not true. However, I do feel that it is safe to say that the monastic presence here on campus is quite alive and functioning, providing context and support for the monastics that have been called to St. Vladimir’s in one way or another. It is a very good thing for us to be together.
In summary, St. Vladimir’s has proven to be a true blessing for this monk. Many of the key elements of the coenobitic life are present here on campus: a daily cycle of services, daily obediences, a strong sense of community, and more profitable and spiritual reading than one could possibly absorb in any given period of time. And even amongst the non-monastic students, the there is still a strong mindfulness of obedience to the will of God. Though I’m not currently in a monastery but in a seminary, I have to admit that I feel now, in an even more complete way than before, that I have still never left the monastery.
So, “what,” one might ask, “is seminary life like for a monastic?” I’d have to say that for this monk, seminary life is really quite good.—Monk James
