The Lord’s Entry into the Non-Eucharistic City. The Didache of Palm Sunday. A Micro-History of the Sacraments in Romania in the Time of Saint Antim of Ivire

A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE SACRAMENTS IN ROMANIA DURING THE TIME OF SAINT ANTIM OF IVIREA

The Didachies of Saint Antim Ivireanul constitute an incomplete episcopal homilial, in the sense that they do not contain sermons for all the feasts or Sundays of the liturgical year, but only a selection made by the author according to subjective, practical criteria, which are difficult to reconstruct in their entirety, from the sermons delivered over the course of several years of ministry. We therefore have sermons for the Sundays of the Triodion: the Sunday of the Publican (1), Cheesefare Sunday (2), Palm Sunday; sermons for the great feasts of the Saviour: The Nativity of the Lord (2), The Epiphany (1), The Meeting of the Lord (1), The Transfiguration (4), The Entry of the Lord into Jerusalem (5); sermons for the feasts of the Mother of God: The Entry into the Church (1), the Dormition of the Mother of God (2); sermons for the feasts of the saints: Saint Nicholas (2), Saints Peter and Paul the Apostles, Saints Constantine and Helena (2), Saint Demetrius the Great Martyr (2), Saints Michael and Gabriel the Archangels, and occasional sermons such as the enthronement sermon and thematic sermons on death (4).

In practice, from this brief overview we can see that the feast most frequently addressed in homilies by Bishop Antim was the Lord’s Entry into Jerusalem, Palm Sunday, from which we have inherited no fewer than five homilies. The reason is as simple and concrete as can be: the metropolitan always focused his pastoral attention on this important moment, seeking to encourage his indolent and negligent faithful during Lent to- at least observe the days of Holy Week through repentance, sincere confession and responsible communion on Maundy Thursday or at Easter, in accordance with the ancient medieval custom. A careful reading of this homiletic sample provides us with a good picture of the sacramental practice1 in Wallachia at the beginning of the 18th century, whilst at the same time demonstrating the ingenious way in which the archbishop managed to ensure a captivating homiletic diversity for the same feast, approached with intelligent exegesis and hermeneutical vigour.

1. Sermon for Palm Sunday (First Palm Sunday Sermon)2: ‘This Great Healing of Repentance’

The introduction to this first Palm Sunday sermon reveals, abruptly and openly, the call upon his conscience as a spiritual shepherd to assume this lofty responsibility, and upon the faithful to take their role as spiritual children seriously. He then confesses frankly that, although it is a royal feast, he has no particular desire to preach on the event being commemorated liturgically, refraining from explaining its significance due to its complexity—which would require a lengthy discourse—and which is unsuited to the focus of most of the faithful on preparing to receive the Holy Mysteries: ‘For this reason, my beloved listeners, as you have gathered in this pious and spiritual assembly, even though today is the Sunday commonly known as Palm Sunday, I have nothing to say about it. Firstly, because it is the Lord’s feast day, and as it requires much substance and many words to reveal even a little of its honour and glory, our ignorance prevents us; and secondly, because I know that this week each and every one of you is striving to prepare yourselves, so that you may be deemed worthy to receive Holy Communion, some on Maundy Thursday and others on Saturday and Sunday, on Easter Day. For this very reason, we have an even greater duty in this matter, and we must speak of that which the Lord Christ will enlighten us with, from whom we seek both guidance and help. But I urge you to listen with love to what I am about to say; and I believe that, even if you derive no benefit from my words, I know full well that you will suffer no harm”3.

Thus, the preacher sets out to deliver a discourse dedicated to the seven sacraments of the Eastern Church, focusing on Confession and Holy Communion, to assist those who are eager in their efforts towards spiritual preparation. The key strength of this catechetical approach lies in placing Baptism on the same level of importance as the Sacrament of Repentance, with its therapeutic effect: ‘Of the seven sacraments observed by the Holy and Divine Church of the East, the first in order and greater than all is Holy Baptism. And without it, no one can enter the Kingdom of Heaven; for thus says the Lord Christ to John, in chapter 3: ‘Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God’, and it is baptism that makes a person blessed, holy, perfect and a child of God by grace. And I dare to say that the sacrament of repentance is exactly the same as Holy Baptism, in honour and in effect, and I believe I shall not err in this. Why? Because those four gifts which Holy Baptism bestows upon a person, sin corrupts and defiles, turning the happy into a wretch, the holy into a sinner, from the perfect, it makes him worthless and good-for-nothing; and from the son of God, it makes him the son of the devil; for this is what John says in chapter 3: ‘He who commits sin is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning’4

The equality of Baptism and Repentance in honour and in work can be demonstrated, in the preacher’s view, by numerous biblical proofs, from which he selects two: the Noahide covenant, that is, the one made by God with Noah never again to curse the earth for the deeds of mankind after the Flood as a sign of His long-suffering (Genesis 8:21–22) and the prophetic call to inner purification from the Old Testament (Isaiah 1:16). This is not merely a simple enumeration or citation of biblical evidence, but also an emphasis on the patristic typological interpretation of Noah’s Flood as a foreshadowing of Baptism and its renewal through Repentance, the washing of the garment of Baptism defiled by sin: ‘For that reason, that Flood, as the teachers of the Church say, signified Holy Baptism; for just as the waters of the Flood washed away all sin and all wickedness from the face of the earth, by that deluge which they wrought, so that all living creatures were destroyed, so too has the water of Holy Baptism washed away and wiped out all original sin and sin of the will from the human race. And then, knowing that the devil would not forsake him because of his great wickedness, nor would he cease to envy and deceive the wretched man andurge him by a thousand means to defile the garment of holy baptism and smear it with the filth of sin, for this reason, as a Father of mercy and compassion, have granted man this great healing of repentance, so that through it he may return to his former honour and, from being a son of disobedience and perdition, may once more become a son of God; and from being dead, may become alive; and from being lost, may be found’5

Isaiah’s prophetic call to spiritual purification is directly applied to the Sacrament of Repentance as the uprooting of evil and the liberation of the inner man of the heart: ‘Take heed, I pray you, with a clear mind, and understand these words which God speaks through Isaiah, for when He says: “Wash yourselves and be cleansed”, He does not merely mean that we should wash ourselves with this mere water, which we drink and use, and which serves no other purpose than to wash the surface of the body, but that He is telling us to wash and cleanse ourselves of our sins with the water of holy repentance and with tears. And again He says: ‘Cast out the deceit from your souls before My eyes’, that is to say, He tells us to confess, not with our lips, but with a mind set on not sinning again, for God, being all-seeing, He sees all things and knows them all, and does not look upon the confession of the lips—which are merely instruments for the service of the body—but looks into the depths of the heart; for He is the One who searches the hearts and the innermost being, as David says in the 7th Psalm: ‘For if we do not repent from the heart,’ he says, ‘and do not turn to him, his sword will gleam and his bowbend and prepare for him, and in it they have prepared the vessels of death, and his fiery arrows they have fashioned’”6.

Sincere repentance involves a person presenting himself before God with his plea on a stake, with the lament of his heart, with parrhesia, the boldness to present ourselves to the Lord in the garment of Baptism defiled by sin, so that He may whiten it and make it shine with the light of Tabor: ‘For repentance is true repentance when one goes of one’s own free will, without any particular reason, to confess to one’s spiritual father, with humility, with a contrite heart, with hot tears and with a resolute mind, so that he may turn away from sins, for these are the foundation of repentance; and then is fulfilled the saying: ‘Come, let us examine ourselves, that is to say, then we shall have the boldness to go before him and open our mouths and tell him our complaint against our enemy, to tell him of the harm he does to us. And he promises that the greatest stains caused by our sins, which are those of blood—that is, murders—he will wash white and cleanse them, as he does for himself; for the snow and the sheep are his people, just as I showed his garments to be white as snow on Mount Tabor, as it is written in Mark, chapter 9. What greater kindness, or more forgiveness, than this could one desire? To make those who have confessed as white and pure as his own body, ‘who have committed no iniquity, nor has any deceit been found in his mouth’7

Thus, the preacher returns to the central theme of the relationship between Baptism and Repentance, formulating his conclusion in the Gospel terms of the parable of the Prodigal Son: ‘Behold, then, the mystery of repentance with Holy Baptism, as I have said, is one and the same in honour and in effect. For just as Baptism washes away original sin and makes man happy, holy, perfect and a son of God, so too does holy repentance transform man from the dead to the living, from the lost to the found, from the unholy to the holy, and from a son of disobedience to a son of God’8

The typological reading of Scripture continues with an episode, rich in penitential significance, concerning the theology of history and the ages, through the parallel drawn between the preaching of the righteous Noah at the time of the building of the ark and the preaching of Jesus Christ, the true Noah, from the time of the building of the Church (‘the ark of his body’, ‘the ark of repentance’): ‘When God commanded Noah to build the ark, historians say it was to be built over a hundred years, for no other reason than to give people time to come to their senses and repent of their sins. And during those one hundred years, the righteous Noah preached to them that God was going to bring a flood and drown the whole earth, and that He was going to kill every living creature. But the people did not believe him at all; instead, they mocked and ridiculed him, telling him that he knew neither what he was saying nor what he was doing. Likewise, when the rain began to fall, God could have brought about the Flood in a single day, but He did not wish to do so; instead, it rained for forty days and forty nights, thereby demonstrating His great and long-suffering patience, giving people time to repent—yet even this did not bring them to their senses. Then, seeing that the water was rising and swelling ever higher, people began to climb onto houses, mounds, mountains and trees; yet none of these offered any refuge. For God had sealed the ark from the outside and taken away the keys; and since there was no longer any hope of salvation, all living creatures, from man to beast, were gathered together’9

From the second part of this reading, approached from a theological-historical perspective, we also obtain the exact date of this didache as Palm Sunday of the year 1710 and, at the same time, a theology of preaching as a continuation of the true Noah’s sermon and a scathing critique of the practice of postponing repentance indefinitely: ‘So too, O Christians, not 100 years but 1,710 years have been preached to us through the true Noah, Jesus Christ, who saved us with the ark of his body, from the flood of ancestral sin—for He is to bring about that dreadful and bitter flood, that flood full of loathing and sorrow, that terrible and fearsome flood of judgement. And this message is constantly conveyed to us through the voice of the Church, through the preaching of the Gospel and through the teaching of the teachers; yet we do not come to our senses, to repent and turn away from wickedness; but rather, the more we see the waters of the flood of our destruction rising, instead of rushing into the ark of repentance to save ourselves, and so we go along with the flow and think that surely nothing will come of it, and we put it off—today, tomorrow, the day after—until our time comes and we perish utterly, both in body and soul’10

This criticism intensifies towards the end of the sermon with a virulent, moralising tirade directed against the low level of commitment among the faithful, especially those from the elite of Wallachian society, in matters befitting Great Lent (thorough confession with the fulfilment of the penance prescribed by the spiritual father, and observance of church rites and acts of charity) calling for sincere repentance and spiritual renewal during the first three days of Holy Week in preparation for the customary reception of Holy Communion on Maundy Thursday. Here we see a reflection of the indolence and lack of penitential commitment which the preacher castigates with harsh words, as spiritual insensitivity, a kind of carelessness and lack of respect for the sacred time of the old, traditional world, characteristic of the first tentative form of Romanian modernity: ‘And we can know this to be so from the words I am about to speak. Since the first week of Holy Lent began, of all of us gathered here, has anyone confessed, as is proper? Have they lovingly carried out the penance assigned to them by their spiritual father? Have they kept themselves, as far as possible, pure and blameless? Have they lived in a Christian manner, in accordance with the order and commandment of the Church, with fasting, prayer and other good deeds? It seems to me that none of this has been done; and, so as not to lie, perhaps some of the foolish ones may have done so. As for us, who consider ourselves greater, more worthy, wiser and more knowledgeable, we have let the time slip by from week to week, indulging in all manner of food, ample drink and every desire of our flesh; yet we have taken no care whatsoever of our souls, as though we were insensitive. And it is only now, in this very last week, that we go to confession, so that we may fast for three days and receive Holy Communion on Maundy Thursday11”.

This scathing criticism of the hypocritical (“haggling and scheming over the sacrament of confession”) or superstitious manner of confessing sins is directed first and foremost at the boyars and townspeople, and here we have, probably the best description of the duplicity, social irrelevance and formal participation in the sacraments of the Church within the Romanian world: ‘And what sort of confession we make, God alone knows, for I am ashamed to say it. Some confess out of fear of certain events, others out of habit, others out of human shame, others out of fear of their masters; others again have two confessors, one in the countryside and another in the town; to the one in the countryside, as if he were a simple man, he confesses the sins he considers to be the graver ones, whilst to the one in the city he confesses the sins he considers to be the lesser ones, thus haggling and manipulating the mystery of confession’12

Formal confession is superficial, hurried, for the sake of appearances, calculated and false, so that they may be counted amongst the world as a practised and inherited custom, without any concrete moral or spiritual effects on the lives of individuals or the social community, foreshadowing the later theory of ‘form without substance’: ‘And, in short, none of us will confess of our own free will, out of piety and with a sincere intention to turn away from our sins, but only for the sake of appearances, for the reasons I have mentioned, until we have received Holy Communion, after which we return—forgive me—like a dog to its vomit and a sow to its wallowing in filth, as the chief of the apostles, Peter, says in the second chapter of his second epistle. So, in haste we confess and receive Holy Communion, and in haste we return to our usual sins, and we take such delight in them and find them so pleasing, for we commit them as though we were gaining great wealth and great goodness, and we boast in them, as David says: ‘Let the sinner boast in the desires of his soul, and let the one who does wrong speak well of himself’9”.

Falsehood often begins with the choice of the spiritual father, a simple man of low social standing, especially in the case of boyars and officials, who wished to instil in the spiritual father a sense of inferiority in relation to the penitent: ‘And as for that deceitful confession, what shall we do? We seek out a foolish confessor, so that he may fear us and be ashamed of our faces, and whatever we say may be so, reckoning in our minds that, just as we deceive him, so shall we deceive God. But God is not deceived; rather, we deceive ourselves, to the ruin of our souls’13

The Preacher exposes the hypocritical confessions of the great men of the time, who reveal trivial matters (here we can read the menu from the princely table and the mansions of the boyars during days of fasting) whilst omitting the essential, namely the grave sins of greed, theft, envy, injustice, gossip, prying, dissimulation, hypocrisy, slander, betrayal, denigration, usurpation, gullibility, stinginess, corruption, moral depravity, violence and torture: ‘And when we go to confession, we do not tell the confessor that we eat the flesh and labour of our brother, the Christian, and drink his blood and the sweat of his brow with our greed and insatiability, but we say how we ate fish at the lord’s table on Wednesdays and Fridays, and during Lent, crayfish and olive oil, and drank wine. We do not say that we harbour the seven-headed dragon, envy, nestled in our hearts, which gnaws at our livers ceaselessly, like rust on iron and like rot on wood; yet we claim that we have done no harm to anyone.

We do not speak of the wrongdoings we constantly commit—the slander, the scheming, the pretence, the backbiting, the betrayals and the accusations we level at one another to strip them of their honour—yet we say: we would show mercy, though we are unable to do so, for we have many needs and taxes to pay, and we have a heavy burden to bear, a multitude of children, and many people whom we must protect alongside us.

We do not say that we believe the lies of our servants more than the truth of the one who is being wronged, whom, even if he were to swear an oath, we do not believe, nor do we do him justice, but we punish him with such cruelty of heart that, if we could, we would wipe him off the face of the earth; we claim that, caught up in the turmoil of the world, we cannot look after our souls, but instead give out alms—some from plunder, some from ill-gotten gains.

We do not say that those whom we see plundering, pillaging and oppressing the poor, we praise and call them wise men, saying they are shrewd in all things, worthy and just, whilst those whom we see not engaging in such things, we call accursed, boorish and unworthy, and claim that they lack the understanding to pass judgement and do justice, forgetting the words of Isaiah in chapter 64, which say: because of our impurity, our righteousness before God is like a soiled garment (and we are impure). And so as not to dwell on this any longer, for all the evil deeds we commit, we have the time and the means to carry them out as our hearts desire; but for those of a spiritual nature, we cannot find the time’14

All these hidden and concealed sins have become habits that lead to moral ruin and spiritual death; and that is why the courageous preacher calls upon his listeners, in the name of Christ, our Redeemer from the bondage of the devil, through the shedding of His Blood, to work out our salvation (“the salvation of our souls”) in the Lord’s time, so as to uproot the evil habit, and, if they have not worked from the very first hour of Lent, to work at least now, at the eleventh hour, in the hope of receiving their full reward.

2. Sermon for Palm Sunday (Second Didache for Palm Sunday)15: ‘Frequent partaking of the Most Holy Mysteries’

This sermon on Palm Sunday, the second in the editorial sequence, is not as vehement as the first in its criticism of the hypocrisy and formalism of Wallachian orthopraxy, but takes a homiletic approach to unravelling the spiritual meanings of the Lord’s entry into Jerusalem, emphasising the Lord’s cladding in gentleness and humility, which comes not in the triumph of equestrian imperial pomp but whilst seated upon the colt of a donkey: ‘Therefore, to demonstrate this act of goodness, my beloved, God had no need of those beasts. For just as kings wear different kinds of garments when they go hunting, different kinds when they attend funerals, and different kinds when they attend weddings, so too does God adorn Himself according to the occasion. For this reason, He will come in a different splendour when He judges the world, for He will come on the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory; for this is all the more fitting for the judgement. But now, because He does not come to judge, but to redeem and bring the human race back to Himself, as He Himself says, ‘God did not send his Son into the world to judge the world, but to save the world through him’16

The preacher emphasises the image of God clothed in gentleness and humility, a celebration full of joy, gladness and spiritual delight, a spring festival for all creation: ‘And, lest our joy and merriment be in vain, we must perceive with the eyes of the soul the celebration of this season, lest the prophet say to us too: ‘The eagle in the sky has recognised its season; the turtledove, the swallow and the stork have recognised the time of their coming, but my people have not recognised the judgement of God’. For it would be a terrible and unseemly thing if the birds were to recognise their season and, in due course, know when to change their dwelling places’17

The season of Great Lent (the change of seasons) was ordained by the Church, the sweet and loving mother of her children, so that spiritual matters otherwise neglected might be rediscovered, with exhortations to good deeds and divine teachings: ‘For this reason, our Church has ordained that the entire period from the Sunday of the Lord Jesus Christ’ entry into Jerusalem until the day of the Passion should be a time of fasting and repentance; and from that day until Easter it is a time of sorrow and bitterness; whilst from Easter until Pentecost it is a time of joy and spiritual gladness. For God has ordained that these mysteries be celebrated at these times, which, by quickening the human nature, inspire us to many good deeds. And now, since this is the time or day of our Lord’s entry into Jerusalem, you may well ask what our Church seeks from this holy season, or rather, what does it desire of us? This season calls for the good disposition of our souls towards God, our Saviour; it calls for righteousness, it calls for true love, and it calls for praise from a humble heart, for all man’s salvation comes from God, and it is not man who seeks to go to God, but God who has had mercy and come to man’18

After presenting a rich array of biblical examples of the ancient promises and messianic prophecies, the preacher draws practical conclusions regarding this feast: ‘I do not hear Moses, for he is tongue-tied; Isaiah’s lips are defiled; Jeremiah cannot speak for he is but a child, and all the prophets have fallen silent; but let him himself speak to me and reveal to me the will of his Father, and in his very being teach me, whose most beloved being may renew me, and may the rivers of his teaching become within me a spring of saving water unto eternal life. See, therefore, brothers, what a great mystery our Church celebrates at this time, a mystery which those of old, throughout so many years since the beginning of the world, desired but did not attain. And we, having it at this time, celebrate it’19

What follows is a summary of practical theology, dedicated to the believers’ adaptation to the specific nature of Great Lent, which, for the early 18th century, captures the idea of frequent communion: ‘From this it is easy to understand what this holy season demands of us: it demands the practice of holy prayers, divine praises, giving thanks for the good we have received from God, the giving of alms, fasting, frequent partaking of the Holy Mysteries, and the purity of the soul—all of which prepare a dwelling place in our hearts for the coming of the Lord and urge us towards good deeds. (…). To truly observe these sacraments, a person must set aside time for them every day; and if we do none of these things, what use will these holy seasons be to us? It is therefore necessary that we too should keep in step with the season and strive to prepare ourselves for the celebration of the bodily entry of our Lord Jesus Christ into Jerusalem and for the observance of His Holy Passion, so that we too may cry out with the thief: ‘Remember me, Lord, when you come into your kingdom’; and through his death, by slaying death, may he grant us the life we long for. Amen”20.

3. A Sermon on Teaching and Humility for Palm Sunday (The Third Didache for Palm Sunday)21. ‘The mystery of the Gospel’ and ‘true confession’ for ‘Lazars such as these, sinners such as these, hard-hearted and unrepentant’

The introduction to this sermon describes the splendid reception (‘an extraordinary welcome’) accorded to the Lord upon his entry into Jerusalem and announces the theme discussed at length, which is dedicated to the spiritual significance of the resurrection of Lazarus, that is, the typological and spiritual interpretation of the person and event of Lazarus’s resurrection: “And the profound mystery of this resurrection gives me cause to deliver this sermon today, before you, my beloved. But I wish to show you whom this Lazarus represents and how much mercy is needed, so that what lies within Lazarus—who has been dead for four days in the tomb—may be raised. ‘Listen with love, if you wish to benefit your souls’22’.

Bishop Antim begins his thematic discourse abruptly, assuming that any believer with even a minimal knowledge of the Bible (“a little knowledge of the Holy Gospel”) can understand directly, without too much exegetical mediation (“without much interpretation”), the typological figure of Lazarus (“whom Lazarus represents”) for the sinful man, spiritually dead and in a state of decay: ‘Let him come to realise that sin is the death of the soul, so that they may immediately realise that no one else is as dead as this man lying in a stinking grave except the sinner (who, even though he lives, even though he speaks, even though he rejoices and indulges himself constantly, is nonetheless dead, for the soul—which is the most noble and ruling part of his self—is dead, because it lacks the divine gift, which is true life’”23

The difficulty noted by the preacher in understanding the Gospel episode in question relates to the significant details concerning Lazarus, which require a more diverse and richer exegetical approach, one less accessible to popular understanding: ‘But I do not know whether the matters concerning Lazarus will be so easily understood, for, being such intermediaries, they give everyone cause to reflect and marvel. For in the case of this dead Lazarus we see so much concerning Christ as well as concerning the people—certain distinctions, certain chosen signs—which, in the case of other dead people whom Christ raised, I do not see, nor does any of the evangelists recount them’24

The differences (‘certain distinctions’) referred to relate to the other resurrections from the dead recounted in the Gospels—that of Jairus’s daughter and the son of the widow of Capernaum— whilst the distinctive signs (‘chosen signs’) refer to the palm branches and the hosannas with which the Lord is greeted upon entering the holy city. In other words, the difference stems from the spiritual significance which the Church’s exegetical Tradition has attributed to the three resurrections mentioned: ‘But (why, then) this distinction between the two dead men and this third one? Were not those two also miracles, just as this third one is? Was it not the same Christ who raised those two dead men, just as He raised this third one? But then why, at the raising of Lazarus, was there such joy, such honour, such glory, whilst for those two dead men there was merely a meagre thanksgiving to God and nothing more? ‘In order to grasp the mystery of this word, we must consider these dead not according to the letter of the Gospel narrative, but according to the spirit and the mystery of the Gospel’s meaning’25

The preacher invokes the patristic consensus regarding the spiritual interpretation of the three resurrections from the dead, explicitly mentioning the great Byzantine biblical exegete Theophylact of Bulgaria (Ohrid, c. 1050–c. 1108), a favourite homiletic model alongside Saint John Chrysostom (Zlataust): ‘The holy Fathers are of one mind and say that these two dead men are also figures representing the sinner, just as Lazarus is a figure representing the sinner, as I have already said. However, these three dead men are not mere representations of a single sinner, but of many different kinds of sinners. For the daughter of Jair is understood to be one sinner, the widow’s son another, and Lazarus yet another”26

Jairus’s daughter typifies the sinner who commits sin in thought—the hidden, unmanifested sin, the sin of youth or of spiritual immaturity: ‘Jairus’s dead daughter, who died at home, symbolises that sinner who sins with the mind and the will—that is, who is determined in their will to sin, yet has not yet carried out the sin in deed, either because the opportunity has not presented itself, or because they lacked the strength to do what they desired. Consider also the one who, whether through thoughtlessness, ignorance, the impetuosity of youth, or, as the divine Theophylact says, having been overcome by the weakness of human nature, falls, unawares, into the snares of sin. Consider also that person who has truly erred, yet whose sin—so to speak—is hidden within the home, having neither been revealed to the world nor made known to people’27

The widow’s son from the town of Nain, whom the Saviour raised from the dead, foreshadows the sinner who commits a material, overt, ostentatious and scandalous sin, in violation of the divine commandments, to the detriment of one’s neighbour and with public consequences: ‘And the widow’s son, who is carried on a bier outside the city, symbolises that sinner who has committed sin through his deeds and has indulged himself, whether through greed, wickedness, fornication or the like. He also represents the one who has persisted in the first and second sins and, having broken one of God’s commandments, has not feared to break a second and a third; and this not in secret, as the first, but openly, without shame or fear, in the midst of the city and in full view of all people, to the public scandal and to the detriment of his neighbour’28

Lazarus, wrapped in burial cloths and with his face covered by a shroud, sealed in by the tombstone, having begun to decay and give off a foul odour, foreshadows the sinner frozen in sin that has become his second nature, devoid of and incapable of any effort at repentance, blinded, suffocated and hardened by the burden of sin: ‘The third dead man, who is Lazarus, represents those who have grown old in sin and become accustomed to wickedness, and who never care for the salvation of their soul. All day long he commits fornication, commits adultery, oppresses, seizes; he is not ashamed before men, does not fear God, does not heed teachings, does not accept advice; the poor weep before him, yet he shows them no mercy; widows cry out because he does them no justice and cares for nothing; his neighbour sighs, for he withholds what is his and does not listen. This sinner is not only buried in the pit of sin, without speech, without spirit, without feeling, without the hope of salvation, but is still, like Lazarus, bound hand and foot with strips of cloth—that is, tightly bound by the bonds of his sins—as the Holy Spirit says in the fifth chapter of Proverbs: ‘Each person is bound by the chains of his sins, unable to perform any good deed or anything pleasing to God.’ His face, too, is bound in a shroud; blinded by sin, he is unaware of his wretched plight; he does not see the abyss in which he finds himself; nor does he consider the eternal torments that await him. And above him lies a heavy stone, which is the power of his wicked habit; this habit weighs down and burdens his soul so much, that it neither allows him to rise from the pit of wickedness, nor lets him breathe. Therefore, just as Martha said of Lazarus: ‘Lord, behold, he stinks!’, so too may we rightly say that this sinner is truly putrid, since he has lain buried in the pit of sin not for four days, but for weeks and months and years and ages”29

The immense joy at the resurrection of Lazarus, in comparison with the other two mentioned, thus prophetically foreshadows the spiritual joy of the Church at the resurrection of those frozen in sin, through intense repentance and divine condescension: ‘…so that the sinner—who has spent his whole life in sin, grown old in wickedness, become utterly estranged from God’s gift, and made himself a servant of sins and a slave to the devil— how difficult his return is, and how it is impossible, ever, to emerge from the pit of evil habit, except with great effort, with unparalleled repentance and with God’s most gracious mercy’30”.

The Saviour’s distinctive manner of action in the three resurrections recounted is interpreted spiritually, in the patristic tradition, and applied to the three different states of penance: ‘Now tell me, what does this signify? What does this distinct intercession (what Christ did when He raised the three dead men) teach us, by which He raised the three dead men: the first by the touch of His hand, the second with a simple word, and the third with tears, prayer and a loud voice? The Divine Zlataost and Saint Theophylact, and all the interpreters of the Holy Gospel, say that this is what Christ, the Lord of life and death, wished to teach us: that the sinner who is dead to the gift of God, because they have sinned through carelessness and the weakness of the flesh, is easily revived, forsakes sin and comes to repentance through the touch of the divine gift. Likewise, the other, who has fallen away from the love of God twice or thrice; and this one too, whilst still young in wickedness, with God’s help and through the teachings of the Gospel—if he does not repent today, let him repent tomorrow: let him forsake wickedness and return once more to the path of salvation. And the third, who have grown old in sin and become accustomed to worldly pleasures and vanities, and to their evil desires, it is not possible for them to turn back easily, but they will remain without repentance and die in sin, for, as David says: ‘Salvation is far from the sinner, for throughout his life he has nothe has sought God’s ways’, or, in order to come to repentance, a mighty help is needed from on high, a living word of God, which will in every way raise him up from sin, just as they raised Lazarus from the grave”31

The preacher’s aim is precisely this significant group of Christians, long entrenched in sin and resistant to repentance, for whom he develops the application of spiritual interpretation through the parable of the prodigal son who returns, as if by a miracle, to the father’s house of pure life: ‘And since this never happens, or happens very rarely, for God is under no obligation to save anyone by force; therefore, should a miracle such as this occur and should someone like this, steeped in sin, repent, should a dead man such as this be raised to life, who has been dead for four days, to return to his father’s house, a son such as this, an adulterer, to be found, a lost sheep such as this, and a lost son such as this, this miracle of God’s mercy being true, there shall be great joy in heaven and on earth; and this joy is symbolised by what has taken place today in Jerusalem, on the occasion of the raising of Lazarus. For let God rejoice, let the angels rejoice, let the whole Church rejoice, for they have gained him. And as for his beloved son, whose salvation had been utterly despaired of, behold, then, how many hindrances, how many obstacles and how much opposition there are to the repentance of the sinner who has grown old in sin’32

The fiery core of this spiritual homily lies in a living word of penetrating power and masterful impact, directed at his cathedral congregation: ‘But could I ever believe, my beloved ones, that here, amongst my speaking flock, there might be such sheep—lost, such Lazaruses, such sinners, hardened of heart and unrepentant? Your great faith does not allow me to believe it. And should it happen, by divine providence, that someone should find themselves in this wretched and lamentable state, with great disgust in my heart I turn my words to them and say, as Christ said to the Jews concerning Lazarus: ‘Where have you laid him?’ Where, O sinner, have you laid your skilful, beautiful, marvellous and worthy soul? Where have you buried the choicest part of your self, the most skilful creation of divine power, the beloved companion of the angels? Where is that beauty of the divine image? Where is the adornment of the divine gift? Where is the glory? Where are those marvellous beauties of his, which made him shine brighter than the sun? Thus, without a second thought, you have allowed sin to destroy you and scatter you like dust in the wind. But why do you not have mercy on yourself? Why do you not mourn your misfortune? The Church weeps for you. The righteous weep. The angel, the guardian of your soul, weeps, for he sees, alas, your ruin. And yet you shed not a single tear, you grieve not, you come not to repentance. O son, you who are dead, Lazarus buried in the pit of indifference, come forth! Come to your senses at last. See your own wickedness. Abandon that evil habit of sin, which has killed you and separated you from God, who created you: ‘Return to me, and I will return to you,’ says God, through the words of the prophet Malachi, to all sinners’33

The condition for the Christian’s spiritual resurrection is the abandonment of sin, which has become a burden, an existential weight, but also a habit—that is, a counter-culture, a culture opposed to God and to true life, a fact prophesied in the removal of the stone from the entrance to Lazarus’s tomb before his personal call to the light of life: ‘Truly, the Saviour could have raised Lazarus whilst he was still enclosed in the tomb, yet He did not wish to do so. But first He commanded that the stone be rolled away from the tomb, and only then did He raise him from the dead. But do you know why? So that sinners might understand that unless they lift the stone of their evil habits from upon themselves, it is impossible for them to be raised to life and to repent. ‘Take away the stone’. This stone must be lifted (from his heart) by the lover of money; he must give back what does not belong to him, must not commit injustice, must not plunder; and if not, he will not rise again. This stone must be lifted by the lover of pleasures; he must abandon his evil desires and the whims of the flesh; and if not, he will not rise. This stone ought to be lifted by the envious, by the jealous, by the proud, and by the slanderer. Let him not dishonour his brother through slander; let him not harbour enmity in his heart, nor wish ill upon another; let him not be arrogant towards others. And if not, he will find neither salvation nor rise from the pit of sin’34

Although the preacher does not expect great receptiveness from his audience due to the stubbornness and spiritual numbness in which the people find themselves (Isaiah 6), nevertheless, the only weapon against the giant Goliath remains the stone of the word (1 Kings 17). Here we inherit from Saint Antim a practical and spiritual theology of preaching, of speaking the word with great power to strike at the very heart of sin: ‘Goliath is sin; David, who fights against sin, is the preacher of the Gospel; the stones are the words of God, and the sling is the power of the divine gift. Against this Goliath, oh, how many Davids, how many preachers of the Gospel have fought with the power of the Holy Spirit, both in times past and in these present days. They have hurled themselves against sin—not with a single Gospel word, nor with a single stone, as David did, but with many, many kinds of words and teachings. And since Holy Scripture does not give in to idleness, nor does the preaching of the Gospel cease, has Goliath, then, fallen because of this? Has sin been put to death within you?’35

The Didache draws to a close as the speaker’s vehemence reaches its peak when he asks his listeners about the signs of their spiritual victory, accusing them of hypocrisy and formalism, in the absence of sincere repentance and genuine confession, and of concrete signs of a change for the better in their lives: ‘But where are the signs of your salvation? Where are the signs of victory? I know that today you have all taken, from the hand of the Church, the pillars and branches which, as they are the signs of victory, show that you have taken them; for in these days you have triumphed over your enemies, over the devil and over sin. But is this really true? If only God would grant that it were so! Oh, what joy there would have been in heaven for you! But I fear that you bear the signs of victory, whilst the devil is the victor, for I see no repentance, I see no true confession, I see no goodness that would gladden the angels and grieve the devil’36

The preacher insists on using the first three days of Holy Week for a serious confession for spiritual benefit: “But you still have, my beloved, time for salvation. You still have these days of the saving Passion, during which the Son of God shed His Most Holy Blood for the salvation of your souls. Therefore, during these holy days, do what you have not yet completed throughout the entire (blessed) season of Holy Lent, whether through carelessness or the snares of the enemy. Abandon plundering. Abandon wickedness, enmity, fornication and quarrelling’37

The three days of repentance and preparation for the customary reception of the Holy Mysteries on Maundy Thursday in a spirit of self-sacrifice are compared to the days of repentance of the city of Nineveh, in a prophetic, imperative and definitive tone: ‘The prophet Jonah, when preaching repentance in Nineveh, said to the people: “Three more days and Nineveh shall be destroyed.” So I say to you today: you have three days left: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday; whoever, during these three days, does not repent and confess their sins, in a Christian manner, with humility and a contrite heart, and partake of the Holy Mysteries on Maundy Thursday, truly, for such a person there remains but a little hope of salvation’38

The preacher’s tone and vehemence reflect the pastoral reality of his time: the Wallachian faithful did not fully embrace the ascetic discipline of Great Lent; they did not commit to consistent fasting, and so all the hard work was left until the final days, considered decisive for even the slightest change for the better. In other words, go to confession and receive Holy Communion at least now, at the eleventh hour, in the hour of the thief, as a final sign and hope of salvation.

4. Sermon for Palm Sunday (The Fourth Didache of Palm Sunday) by39 (pp. 183–188). ‘To receive worthily the Lord who comes for our salvation’

The Fourth Didache of Palm Sunday by Saint Antim of Ivireanul constitutes a veritable classical exegetical homily which emphasises the regal dimension of the liturgically commemorated event (‘the history of this holy feast day’, Matthew the Evangelist), on the image of the gentle King entering the holy city, fulfilling the Scriptures of the prophets, but also on the spiritual aspect of His Kingdom: ‘And all this was so that what was spoken through the prophet might be fulfilled, who says: “Behold, your King comes, gentle.” And not only this prophet alone (‘For this very reason, the prophet Zechariah points to this King as if with a finger, saying: ‘Behold, your King comes to you in meekness’”), but the entire company of prophets, with one voice, bear witness that the Lord is King, and for this reason they call him the Messiah (that is, King, the Anointed One)”40.

The description of this spiritual dimension of the Lord’s Kingdom by way of contrast provides an opportunity for a comprehensive picture of the most important elements of political theology in a princely court, the insignia and imperial pomp: ‘And perhaps someone might say of Christ: whilst He was on earth, what sign of imperial grandeur did He display? Or what display of splendour did they make? Where are their courts? Where is their throne? Where are their crowds and those imperial servants? Where are their coat of arms and regalia, and all the other things befitting kings? Truly, they possessed none of these, for the kingdom of Christ, unseen and incomprehensible, is eternal and unchanging, it is unconquerable and deathless; it is heavenly and spiritual, not earthly and corporeal, just as He Himself said before Pilate: ‘My kingdom is not of this world’41

Saint Antim the Bishop emphasises this radical eschatological aspect of the Gospel ministry of the Lord Jesus Christ in all its economic stages and events in a passage of crystal-clear theological clarity dedicated to the deification of man: ‘For this reason, the Teacher and King of heaven has called the entire work of the Gospel the Kingdom of Heaven; that is to say, those things which are written in the Holy Gospel are heavenly and divine, for they guide us along the right path that leads to the Kingdom of Heaven and strengthen us with a heavenly spirit, teaching us to live a heavenly life, so that we may attain its dwellings and become perfectly divine and heavenly. And since this is so, it is fitting that the Lord Christ should have named His Gospel ‘the Kingdom of Heaven’, for there is nothing in it but heavenly and divine things’42

Of the emperor’s prerogatives, the most important is that of commander of the army and defender of the people entrusted to him: “Good and worthy emperors must accomplish many and noble deeds; and above all they have a duty to protect their people from the weapons and destruction of their enemies, a task and duty which the Lord Christ Himself has fulfilled most fully. For we, being beset by five invincible enemies, who stand ever in opposition and brought us to great and incurable ruin, through the mighty power of God, have conquered and slain them. Who are these enemies? Sin, death, hell, the devil and the flesh’43

Before presenting the biblical evidence of the Lord’s victory over these five merciless enemies of mankind, the preacher offers a highly valuable theological summary, considering the anthropological consequences of the Lord’s victory: ‘Sin has been extinguished through the shedding of His precious blood, and nothing can harm us unless some evil takes hold of us. Death, which was born of sin, as the blessed Paul says: ‘Through one man sin entered the world, and through sin, death, which is a merciless enemy against us, was put to death by His death.’ Hell, which is the full recompense for sin, was emptied and shattered by His descent into it. The devil, as the instigator of all sins and the tormentor of our souls, was bound and cast into the deepest abysses of hell. The body, through its passions and through its crucifixion upon the cross of passions, was subdued and purified”44

Of the biblical testimonies cited, I shall select here only the first, that concerning sin, where the preacher offers a typological and spiritual interpretation of a passage from the prophet Micah, linked to the episode of the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea by ancient Israel: “For first, concerning sin, the prophet Micah says: ‘He will cast away all our iniquities and cast all our sins into the depths of the sea’. These are the spiritual Egyptians who, whilst pursuing the children of Israel, were drowned and slain in the Red Sea (that is, in the blood of Christ)’45”.

The preacher returns to the description of the characteristics of the messianic king (the nature and disposition of this king), emphasising the Lord’s gentleness (the gentleness of Christ), which tames the savagery of human nature: ‘And since everyone follows the king and obeys him, why should we not also direct our lives towards the gentleness of this king? Why do we harbour in our hearts the fury of wild beasts and the lust for victory, the tongue of an asp, the mouth of serpents, with which all day long we slander, mock, revile, curse and wish one another harm and ruin’46

The preacher continues his spiritual interpretation of the various symbolic elements in the biblical narrative recounting the entry into Jerusalem, such as the opposition of some to the unharnessing of the donkey’s colt for the Lord’s service, understood as a prophecy concerning the enduring existence of opposition and opponents in relation to the Church, the Lord’s disciples throughout the ages: ‘…for by these events they wished to signify that from now on there will never be a lack of those who will stand against the apostles, with harsh words, and against those who follow them, and against all those who wish to walk righteously in Christ and strive to turn the people back and teach them goodness. For just as it is written that against good there is evil, and against life there is death, so too against righteousness there is the sinner’47

The concluding part of this didache addresses the theme of the right time for repentance, explaining the spiritual significance of the branches and garments laid out along the way as forms of honour offered to the true King, but also as a sign of penance: ‘After that, the Lord, sitting upon a donkey, was journeying to Jerusalem, and the whole city, moved by love, set out to rejoice at such a joyful entry; and with palm and olive branches they welcomed him, thereby foretelling not only his victory but also his mercy. And those who were filled with divine love spread their garments along the way; such an honour and welcome we find nowhere else has ever been bestowed, not even upon a victorious emperor. And this kind of honour, in the end, I offer in my heart to Christ, who, having cast off the old man, strives to cast off those old habits for the glory of Christ; a thing which, even though it ought to have been done at other times, and all the more so during the season of repentance, so that, having crucified sin in Christ, we may walk with Him in the renewal of life’47

The moral application comes at the end when the preacher offers a fatherly exhortation to renounce diabolical ties to those who desire a genuine Christian attitude during this festive, richly illustrative and catechetically edifying period of Holy Week: ‘Therefore, if we wish to honour and welcome the Lord in a in a Christian manner, we must cast aside anger, spit out envy, quell the desire for triumph, drive away from ourselves the deceitful tongue and blasphemous lips, and cast them aside. And if we have taken anything from anyone by deceit, let us return it to its rightful owner. And if we are accompanied by a wife who is unfaithful and incites us to evil deeds, let us part from her. For all these are the snares of the devil; for if we do not do this now, when we have so many examples before our eyes and when so much Church teaching urges us on – and indeed even death itself, the cross, the nails, the spear, the beatings, the spitting, the insults, the bonds, and even the shed blood of Christ—we shall not turn to repentance, but to the fire, to which we shall return’48

Saint Antim’s entire homiletic plea for repentance is rooted in the time-honoured Orthodox tradition of renewing Baptism through the reaffirmation of the baptismal vows, the renunciation of Satan and the practices of idolatry and wickedness through the confession of sins, and adherence to Christ through Holy Communion and the rectification of one’s life. This is also the meaning of the final section of the Palm Sunday Didache presented here, which aims to stir up a longing for a worthy (destoinicéște) reception of the Lord, in His Passion, in the Holy Mysteries and in His virtues: ‘And if we wish to celebrate, with love, the Passion and Resurrection of the Lord, and if we long to receive worthily the Lord who comes for our salvation, we must cast off the garments of the old man, that is to say, we must crush and shatter our old habits and desires, and in this way we shall give Him a welcome that is both fitting and honourable. And together with the little children, who are free from wickedness, let us cry out from a humble heart, with joy in our souls and with devotion: ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest’49.

5. Sermon for Palm Sunday (The Fifth Palm Sunday Homily)50 (pp. 202–211). Great Lent, ‘a tithe of the year’ and ‘an unwritten book’

The final Palm Sunday homily is a jewel in the crown of Romanian homiletics, a synthesis of all the other sermons for this royal feast, a recapitulation of all the homilies for the Sundays of Lent, a pastoral summary of the practical theology of the three days of repentance leading up to Holy Communion on Maundy Thursday.

The archiepiscopal sermon takes its starting point from the Gospel of the day and from the mixed feeling (‘two conflicting things’) of joy and sorrow, provoked by the Lord’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem (“accompanied by all manner of human customs and traditions”) and the tears shed for the ungrateful (non-Eucharistic) city:

‘On the other hand, I see the same Saviour Christ, as He approaches Jerusalem, shedding bitter tears for it from His divine eyes: ‘And when He saw the city (says the Evangelist), He wept over it’. And, overcome with great sorrow, my heart is embittered, and I stand in wonder at how here light can be united with darkness, stillness with the storm, leaping for joy with sighing, joy with sorrow, songs with tears? How is it, sweet Jesus, that you temper the joy of your victory with weeping? Why does He not rejoice together with the people who praise Him? Why does He not rejoice with those who proclaim Him, everywhere, as King: ‘Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel’? Our Lord Jesus Christ weeps, my children, amidst the rejoicing, for He enters the ungrateful city, utterly meek, to save it from its sins. ‘Tell the daughters of Zion,’ He says, and so on. And instead of finding repentance and humility within her, He finds insults and dishonour; He finds her heart ready to condemn Him to death. ‘This is the sort of recompense people are accustomed to giving to God, when, in His boundless mercy, He calls them to repentance and desires to save them’51

The Lord’s sorrow may continue to the present day if the Wallachian city, now being secretly examined through the word and liturgical prayer, remains insensitive and unresponsive—in a word, non-Eucharistic. The sermon, the didachē, the word of instruction within the liturgical framework of the royal feast is part of this spiritual probing: ‘And it is possible that Christ may have cause to be grieved today and to weep for you too, my spiritual children, who have all come, joyfully, with pillars and branches, to welcome him. However, so that I may know the truth, I ask you to grant me a little attention, so that both your hearts and my desire may be comforted and fulfilled’52

The preacher immediately appeals to the liturgical memory of his cathedral congregation to recall the homily delivered on the second Sunday of Lent, in which he presented the season of Great Lent as a tithe of the year, a time specially ordained by God for the renewal of life and the spiritual rejuvenation of humankind, a masterful summary of practical theology: ‘In the sermon I delivered on the second Sunday of Lent, if you recall, you heard how incomparably merciful God is and with what fatherly love He calls sinners to repentance; for it is solely for this purpose that God has ordained these 40 days of Lent within His Holy Church, so that sinners may have cause to repent of their sins and God may show them His mercy. He has ordained this time to be like a tithe of the year, not for His sake, but for our benefit, so that we may forsake evil, so that we may curb our passions, to subdue the flesh, to do Christian deeds pleasing to God: to feed the poor, to show mercy to strangers, to forgive those who have wronged us, to show love towards God and our neighbour, and, above all, to purify our minds from the mire of sin and to seek forgiveness from God for the wrongs we have done to Him throughout the year, in thought, word and deed that are contrary to the law’53

Thus, Great Lent is a spiritual duty for our own benefit or gain, and the preacher takes on the role of mediator, of the envoy charged with claiming the debt: ‘Who is the Christian who, during these holy days, has paid his debt? Who is that righteous and improved believer who has fasted both in spirit and in the flesh, repented of his sins, and sought, with true humility, God’s mercy and asked for forgiveness? Who is the faithful and wise servant?’54

Following the liturgical introduction, the preacher introduces the homiletic surprise of his sermon: the angelic book of every church, a patristic image taken from St Basil’s Homilies on Great Lent, a sort of ledger or register of debts and taxes: “St Basil the Great, in his second sermon on fasting, says that the angels of every church have a book, in which, from the beginning of Lent, they record those who are fasting, so that those who do not fulfil their duty may be known”55.

The Book of Life, the defining book, the book of Christian identity, the book-icon, remains, however, the Gospel placed upon the altar, more comprehensive than the book of the angels in which are recorded those who commit themselves fully (full-time, not merely part-time) to fasting: ‘The Church still has a book, which they have received from Christ, according to whose teaching all who claim to be Christians, followers of Christ and true children of the Holy Church, are to be judged. And what, then, do you consider this book to be? Behold, it is that which lies within, in the holy altar, upon the holy throne, which we all worship and believe in; that is to say, it is the holy and divine Gospel’56

The Book of the Church is not merely a list of those fully engaged in fasting, but the Book of the Kingdom of Heaven, the book of all the faithful: ‘In the book of the angels there may be many unrecorded, either because of some worldly need, or because of some bodily illness, which has prevented them from fasting; but in the book of the Church they are certainly to be found, all are recorded—the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the archbishops and the priests, the boyars and the rulers, and all who profess the true faith: For whoever is not found in that book will not be worthy of the kingdom of heaven’54

Imagine

The preacher develops the theme of the Book of God by offering a spiritual interpretation of the enigmatic words of Psalm CXXXVIII, 16: ‘And in your book all shall be written: days shall be established, and no one shall be in them’, applied primarily to the days of Great Lent: “That is to say, he says that in God’s book all shall be written, and that certain days shall be set apart, in which no one shall be found written. These words of David seem to me to be very obscure and difficult to understand. I know from Scripture that in God’s book not only are all things written, but also the good deeds that each person has done and the sins they have committed, as well as the days, the hour and the place where they were committed. For David says again: ‘Even the things I have not done, your eyes have known.’ But which, then, are those days on which no one will be recorded? There are many, throughout the year, and even more during Holy Lent. On these days, I truly fear that no one will have been recorded in the Book of God, for it seems to me that no one has made true repentance. The Book of God is the Holy Gospel, as I have said before. I am not speaking of the other days of the year, but only of these days of Holy Lent. Who have been inscribed in it? Who have done what the Gospel has taught them?’57

From now on, the Didache for Palm Sunday will become a substantial homiletic and spiritual summary of Great Lent, taken up Sunday after Sunday, from Cheesefare Sunday right through to Lazarus Saturday, punctuated each time by the bitter conclusion of Lent, which remains an unwritten book. On Cheesefare Sunday, the Gospel teaches us to forgive our enemies, to act without hypocrisy, and not to hoard. On the First Sunday of Lent, the Gospel teaches us to hate sin and to long for Christ: ‘The First Sunday of Lent has come, on which the Gospel tells us that the Son of God saw us under the fig tree: the fig tree is the symbol of sin. And which of us Christians has forsaken sin? Let those who are like Nathanael run with eagerness and love towards Christ, let the Son of God bear witness to them, and let them hate with all their heart the accursed fig tree, that is, sin?’58

On the second Sunday, with the reading on the healing of the paralysed man and the parable of the opposition of the scribes and Pharisees, the Gospel taught us to renounce slander, to speak no ill of others, and to refrain from dishonouring our fellow human beings. On the third Sunday, that of the Veneration of the Holy Cross, we received Christ’s counsel to renounce the world by avoiding vanity and taking up His cross. On the fourth Sunday, the Gospel presented to us the boy who had been possessed by a mute spirit since childhood, teaching us to keep silent about the sins of others and to confess our own sins with humility: ‘As many as were in the habit of concealing their faults and not revealing their sins to their confessor remained just as they were before’59 The fifth Sunday has also passed, on which we learnt from Christ’s rebuke to the sons of Zebedee to avoid reckless requests, pride, and vain or fleeting glory, but to seek the kingdom of God: ‘And what have we gained by this? For even on that day the book remained unwritten, and there was no one among them’60.

On Lazarus Saturday, when we were called to come forth from the tomb and receive the light of the gift of true life: ‘And who among the young, who among the old, have risen from the pit of sin? Who have opened their eyes to see the light of this gift? Who have heeded the voice of the Son of God, who, through the parable of Lazarus, calls us to repentance? This day too has passed, and with it the holy fast has come to an end; and where is there a place for anyone to be inscribed in the holy book, ‘Days shall be built, and no one shall dwell in them’?”61

Now the time has come for the preacher to give the answer he promised when he first called his audience’s attention to this matter, and to conclude that his own believers, like those in Jerusalem of old, are a cause for disappointment, of sorrow and lamentation for Christ the Lord: ‘Are these the fruits of repentance? Is this the benefit our fasting has brought us? Is this the gain our tithe has yielded this year? As I see it, Christ has cause to grieve for us just as He grieved and wept for Jerusalem when He entered with palm branches and olive branches’61

The preacher expresses his indignation at the squandering of such an opportunity for conversion, for an existential transformation of his flock, as represented by the days of Great Lent: ‘But when will those days come in which Christians are to resolve to change their nature, to change their lives and to improve themselves, if not during the days of Lent, which I call the days of lamentation and humility? For behold, these have now passed in vain, and it is not possible for the time that has passed to return. Now, then, what other time remains for us to inscribe ourselves in the book of God, through true repentance and confession?’61

The preacher does not remain stuck in a nostalgic sense of lost time but finds a biblical solution to break the deadlock, namely in the typological and spiritual reading of the episode described in Exodus 3:18: ‘Thus shall you say to the children of Israel: The Lord God of the Jews has called us to journey three days’ journey into the wilderness, that we may offer sacrifice to Him.’ The Lord God of the Jews has called us. Let us therefore go into the wilderness for three days’ journey, so that we may offer a sacrifice to our God. Metropolitan Antim bases his spiritual theology of the three days of repentance on this passage, during which the time wasted without spiritual benefit during Great Lent is to be redeemed, elaborating in exquisite detail the elements of biblical typology (Egypt – the world of sin, crime and blasphemy; Pharaoh – Satan with his wiles; Moses – the spiritual shepherd): ‘This commandment is a hidden mystery, and we must uncover it so that it may be understood. Here we see four things: Egypt, Pharaoh, Moses and three days in the wilderness. Egypt is this world, disobedient and cunning, in which the darkness of sin is spread, where all the firstborn are to be slain, that is, the speaking souls, where the waters are to be turned into blood, that is, human deeds into blasphemy and mockery of God, where the locust and the caterpillar reign, that is, bad habits, perversity, hatred, envy and strife. Pharaoh is the devil, who, through deceit and cunning—that is, through the pleasures of the flesh and worldly vanities— and with evil desires, ensnares people and keeps Christians—who are the New Israel and God’s chosen people—in bondage. I, the unworthy one, am Moses, your shepherd, and along with the other bishops, I preach the Gospel, we are sent by God to call you to repentance, to offer a sacrifice to God, to sacrifice to Him your whole soul, your whole mind and your whole heart’62

Therefore, this abbreviated form, this minimum, this crisis solution—the retreat and observance in the wilderness of Holy Week, the penitential and Eucharistic inscription in the book of God, through confession and Holy Communion on Maundy Thursday—remains valid: ‘And since you have spent these forty days of holy Lent in the Egypt of the passions, in the cares of life, in the vanities of the world, God, Who is all, wholly merciful and compassionate, once again calls you all into the wilderness, that is, into this Holy Week, which ought to be a wilderness, that is, free from cares, from worldly thoughts, from pleasures, from food and from bodily rest; and He has appointed for you a three-day period—namely, these three remaining days, that is, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday—so that you may purify yourselves through repentance, so that you may be set aright through confession, so that you may adorn yourselves with spiritual things, and so that you may prepare yourselves with prayers and acts of charity, on the great and awe-inspiring day of the Holy Mysteries. Offer to God a sacrifice of praise, partake of the body and blood of the Son of God, be united with God, and may you all be inscribed in His book63”.

Anyone who disregards this final summons, this fatherly appeal, can only be regarded as one who opposes himself, frozen within himself, petrified within the shell of irresponsible self-sufficiency: ‘Now, is it possible for anyone to be such an enemy to himself as to let even these three days pass and remain unrepentant, to remain unmoved from the Egypt of wickedness, to remain deprived of God’s gift and mercy, which calls him to repentance? This, my children, is the ‘acceptable time’ of which the great Paul speaks. And the days of this holy week are days of salvation, in which we ought to make up for the time we have wasted in vain; for the other days we await are treacherous; they are the days of the world, the days of the flesh, the days of vanity, in which those who have walked have not profited, and in these your triumph must be seen, in these the zeal of your Christianity must shine forth, in these the world must recognise the power of your faith’64”.

Following this spiritual outpouring, the preacher returns to the image of the people welcoming the Lord with branches and garments, urging the faithful to imitate those of old: “…and this is what every Christian ought to do during these days, so that, in honour of Christ’s Passion and in order to worthily receive the divine mysteries, they may spread their garments upon the ground and hold in their hands branches of palm and olive’65

Drawing on the interpretation of Theophylact of Bulgaria (Ohrid), the preacher draws ascetic conclusions when explaining the spiritual significance of the garments spread out in the Lord’s path: ‘The garments,’ says the divine Theophylact, ‘represent the body, for the body is the garment of the soul. For this reason, it is fitting that we should subject the body to the soul, humbling it through fasting, abstinence and privations, so that it may become a dwelling place for the living God and a pure vessel for the Son of God’66’.

Believers must adorn themselves first and foremost with patience (“The palm-like pillars symbolise patience”) and with mercy (“the olive-like pillars symbolise mercy”), ascetic conformity to the Crucified One, so that they may meet the Lord in the Eucharist: ‘And it is fitting for the Christian to display these two virtues more than the others during these holy days, and through them to receive the Saviour of the world; to endure a little discomfort for the sake of the One who endured the cross and death’67

The bouquet of palm branches is presented in detail through the concrete elements of the Christian’s radical ascetic identification with the Lord, a true crucifixion of the senses: ‘Our Lord suffered through all the senses: in sight, in hearing, in smell, in touch and in taste; and in all these senses it is right and proper for anyone who is a Christian and a follower of the Saviour to suffer: let his eyes shed tears, that he may mourn for his sins; let his ears listen patiently, every day, to the church hymns, chants and services; let his sense of smell perceive nothing but the spiritual fragrance that emanates from the holy words and from the gift of the Holy Spirit. Let his taste observe perfect fasting and contentment with bread and water, merely to satisfy his needs, and not with dishes of many kinds or with numerous drinks. As for the sense of touch, since it is more prone to sin than the other senses, it ought to be humbled more than the others, through sleeplessness, prostrations and other labours designed to restrain the body’68”.

The bouquet of olive branches spiritually embodies the mercy of the seven days of Holy Week in silence, without wasting words, as Scripture relates concerning Job’s friends, a foreshadowing of Christ: ‘And this is what Christian souls ought to do during this week. If they love the Son of God, let them look upon him, be silent and marvelling; let them reflect on for whose sake a sinless God is suffering, and together feel sorrow for His sorrows, grieve for His grief, and suffer with Him, in thought and in heart’69

The conclusion of the sermon follows naturally as a corollary to the entire realistic pastoral discourse regarding the focus on the first three days of Holy Week as a distillation, an ascetic and sacramental summary of Great Lent that redeems everything: ‘And by doing so, in this way, you will make up for the time of fasting that has passed in vain; you will make yourselves worthy to partake of the most holy Mysteries of the Saviour, and you will be inscribed without a doubt in the book of God. And our Lord Jesus Christ, coming in gentleness and saving us, will have no cause to grieve, nor to shed tears for your souls, but may He bless you, sanctify you and enrich you with His divine gift, whose ocean of mercy may ever be a shelter, strength and salvation for your souls. Amen’70

The Metropolitans of Wallachia, from Theodosius and Saint Antim of Ivire to Neophytus the Cretan, strove to revitalise and organise pastoral care and sacramental life, which had remained at low levels of participation and intensity. The five sermons of Saint Antim of Ivire, delivered on the occasion of Palm Sunday, constitute one of the most important pastoral documents from the early 18thin the history of Romanian sacramental life, demonstrating intellectual rigour and a rich typological and spiritual reading of the Scriptures, as well as pastoral effort and persuasion to make the unsatisfactory city truly Eucharistic and evangelical, even if only on the minimal basis of the three days of sacrifice and fasting in the wilderness of Holy Week.

Imagine

• 1

  “The Pastoral Letter of Metropolitan Neophytus of Crete (1738–1753) (Lent 1739)”, edited from the copy in the register of the Metropolis of Ungrovlahia (State Archives in Bucharest, ms. 133, f. 104r–108v) by Petre Năsturel, ‘Romanian Christianity in the Age of the Barbarian Invasions. Contradictions and New Developments’, Bulletin of the Romanian Library in Freiburg IX (1984), pp. 251–259; reprinted in Continuous Communion with the Holy Mysteries. The Case of a Controversy – The Testimonies of Tradition, with an introductory study and translation by Deacon Ioan Ică Jr, Sibiu, Deisis Publishers, 2006, pp. 91–99.

• 2

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of Palm Sunday’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 89–96.

• 3

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of the Flowers’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 90.

• 4

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Palm Sunday Sermon’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 90.

• 5

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of the Flowers’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 91.

• 6

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘Prima Didahie de Florii’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 92.

• 7

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of Palm Sunday’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 92–93.

• 8

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachy of the Flowers’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 93.

• 9a9b

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of the Flowers’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 95.

• 10

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of Palm Sunday’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 93–94.

• 11

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of Palm Sunday’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 94.

• 12

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of Palm Sunday’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 94–95.

• 13

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachy of the Flowers’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishing, 1972, p. 95.

• 14

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The First Didachie of the Flowers’, in Works, critical edition and introductory study by Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 96.

• 15

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Second Didache of the Flowers’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 105–113.

• 16

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Second Didache of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva, 1972, p. 107.

• 17

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Second Didache of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 108.

• 18

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Second Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 108–109.

• 19

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Second Didache of the Flowers’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 113.

• 20

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Second Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 113.

• 21

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 139–149.

• 22

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva Publishing, 1972, p. 140.

• 23

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didache of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 141.

• 24

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachie of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 141.

• 25

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 141–142.

• 26

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 142.

• 27

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 142.

• 28

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didache of the Flowers’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 142–143.

• 29

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 143.

• 30

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Palm Sunday Sermon’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 144.

• 31

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 145.

• 32

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 145–146.

• 33

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachie of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 146–147.

• 34

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didache of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 147.

• 35

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachie of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 148.

• 36

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 148–149.

• 37

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 149.

• 38

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Third Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 149.

• 39

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 183–188.

• 40

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 183.

• 41

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 183–184.

• 42

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 184.

• 43

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 184.

• 44

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 184–185.

• 45

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didache of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 185.

• 46

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 186.

• 47a47b

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 187.

• 48

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 187–188.

• 49

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fourth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, p. 188.

• 50

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva, 1972, pp. 202–211.

• 51

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachy of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva, 1972, pp. 202–203.

• 52

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 203.

• 53

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Palm Sunday Sermon’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 203.

• 54a54b

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachie of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva, 1972, p. 204.

• 55

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 204.

• 56

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachie of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 204.

• 57

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 205.

• 58

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 205.

• 59

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 206.

• 60

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 206.

• 61a61b61c

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 207.

• 62

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didache of the Feast of the Flowering’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva, 1972, pp. 207–208.

• 63

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachie of the Feast of the Flowering’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva, 1972, p. 208.

• 64

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 209.

• 65

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Palm Sunday Sermon’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 209.

• 66

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva, 1972, p. 209.

• 67

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didache of the Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva Publishers, 1972, pp. 209–210.

• 68

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, p. 210.

• 69

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didache of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest, Minerva, 1972, p. 210.

• 70

  Antim Ivireanul, ‘The Fifth Didachy of Palm Sunday’, in Works, ed. Gabriel Ștrempel, Bucharest: Minerva, 1972, pp. 201–211.