Fr Alexander Schmemann’s Thanksgiving Homily

Everyone capable of thanksgiving is capable of salvation and eternal joy.

Thank You, O Lord, for having accepted this Eucharist, which we offered to the Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and which filled our hearts with the joy, peace and righteousness of the Holy Spirit.

Thank You, O Lord, for having revealed Yourself unto us and given us the foretaste of Your Kingdom.

Thank You, O Lord, for having united us to one another in serving You and Your Holy Church.

Thank You, O Lord, for having helped us to overcome all difficulties, tensions, passions, temptations and restored peace, mutual love and joy in sharing the communion of the Holy Spirit.

Thank You, O Lord, for the sufferings You bestowed upon us, for they are purifying us from selfishness and reminding us of the “one thing needed;” Your eternal Kingdom.

Thank You, O Lord, for having given us this country where we are free to Worship You.

Thank You, O Lord, for this school, where the name of God is proclaimed.

Thank You, O Lord, for our families: husbands, wives and, especially, children who teach us how to celebrate Your holy Name in joy, movement and holy noise.

Thank You, O Lord, for everyone and everything.

Great are You, O Lord, and marvelous are Your deeds, and no word is sufficient to celebrate Your miracles.

Lord, it is good to be here! Amen.

Note: This was Fr. Schmemann’s last homily given at St. Vladimir’s Seminary before his repose in 1983.

Blessed Feast to all!

Memory eternal!

This morning after having received Holy Communion, the servant of the Lord Pavle, Patriarch of Serbia passed away at 95 years of age.

Memory eternal!

For Nelson…

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better than thy stroake; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.”
–John Donne, Holy Sonnet X.

Tomorrow we gather to bury one of our fellow seminarians, one Nelson Hill by name, one who’s acquaintance I made only in passing as we shared but one class. His death came rather suddenly, nigh on a week ago now (in fact, should you think of it, remember also his mother who is now shouldering the financial burden of his untimely death in your prayers). Nevertheless, O Death, be not proud, for Christ has overthrown you and it is God, the Father of that same Christ, who will speak the final word.

Requiescat in pace, Nelson. May you find boldness before the Lord and intercede for us in prayer. Memory eternal.