As we begin a temporary but unprecedented period in our parish history when no divine services are being offered—not even by the laity or visiting priests, as has been the case in times when no permanent priest was assigned here—we are naturally sorrowful and perhaps even a little uneasy. This is particularly true because we are now in the midst of the Great Fast, that period of repentance every year when our sorrow for sins is stirred by our joy in participating in the incomparably beautiful lenten services. To make the lenten journey seems inconceivable without the darker shades of vestments, the penitential melodies of the choir, and the candle-lit evening Liturgy of Presanctified Gifts. It may seem difficult to travel this journey without these reminders of the kingdom of heaven. And most difficult of all, the holy Eucharist will not be there to sustain us during the journey.
But if we reflect on the Orthodox Church’s experience of Lent, we realize that our separation from lenten worship is consistent with the overall theme of the Fast. Before the season even begins, we sing the hymn By the Waters of Babylon (Psalm 136/137) that recounts to us the exile of the Israelites in Babylon and their longing to return to the worship of the Temple in Jerusalem. We hear the gospel of the Prodigal Son and his exile in the pigpen of spiritual oblivion, far from the loving Father’s house (Luke 15:11-32).
But perhaps most striking to us this year, as we find ourselves separated from our parish church and her divine services, is the recollection that our Orthodox liturgical tradition assigns the memory of Saint Mary of Egypt to the fifth Sunday of the Fast. It is her life that is read to us during the previous week as part of the Matins service of the Great Penitential Canon of Saint Andrew. And having listened to her life at that service in years past, we may recall that after Mary’s reception of the Eucharist in Jerusalem she departed into the wilderness beyond the Jordan to repent, far away from liturgical services. Indeed, the priest who discovered her and told her story, Zosimas, himself followed a monastic practice at the time of leaving his monastery church and wandering alone in the wilderness in prayer and fasting.
So this year, without desiring it, we find ourselves in a comparable situation. We know, as Mary and Zosimas did, that God loves us and like the Prodigal Son’s Father ardently watches the horizon for our return. May we soon find our way back from the “exile” of canceled services that has been imposed on us due to the coronavirus pandemic. And may we consider this an image of our exile from God imposed by our sins. And, when we return, may our heavenly Father find in us true repentance and welcome us into his heavenly banquet chamber.
To help start us on this journey of exile, let us be encouraged again by the beautiful hymn that served to launch us into Lent. The following is a recording of By the Waters of Babylon sung by our own choir at Saint Elizabeth Church.