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The Glory in Christ, Our King

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Our Most Holy Mother of God


Archangel Michael by T. Tsagalakis



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Christ the Pantokrator


The Desert Fathers, Writings and Information

Please enjoy this beautiful Easter homily by St. John Chrysostom. There is no one who would not be moved upon reflection of these inspired words!

(more links follow after the sermon)


An Easter Sermon

A re there any who are devout lovers of God?
Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival!

Are there any who are grateful servants?
Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!

Are there any weary from fasting?
Let them now receive their due!

If any have toiled from the first hour,
let them receive their reward.

If any have come after the third hour,
let them with gratitude join in the feast!

Those who arrived after the sixth hour,
let them not doubt; for they shall not be short-changed.

Those who have tarried until the ninth hour,
let them not hesitate; but let them come too.

And those who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
let them not be afraid by reason of their delay.

For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.
The Lord gives rest to those who come at the eleventh hour,
even as to those who toiled from the beginning.

To one and all the Lord gives generously.
The Lord accepts the offering of every work.
The Lord honours every deed and commends their intention.

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!

First and last alike, receive your reward.
Rich and poor, rejoice together!

Conscientious and lazy, celebrate the day!
You who have kept the fast, and you who have not,
rejoice, this day, for the table is bountifully spread!

Feast royally, for the calf is fatted.
Let no one go away hungry.
Partake, all, of the banquet of faith.
Enjoy the bounty of the Lord's goodness!

Let no one grieve being poor,
for the universal reign has been revealed.

Let no one lament persistent failings,
for forgiveness has risen from the grave.

Let no one fear death,
for the death of our Saviour has set us free.

The Lord has destroyed death by enduring it.
The Lord vanquished hell when he descended into it.
The Lord put hell in turmoil even as it tasted of his flesh.

Isaiah foretold this when he said,
"You, O Hell, were placed in turmoil when he encountering you below."

Hell was in turmoil having been eclipsed.
Hell was in turmoil having been mocked.
Hell was in turmoil having been destroyed.
Hell was in turmoil having been abolished.
Hell was in turmoil having been made captive.

Hell grasped a corpse, and met God.
Hell seized earth, and encountered heaven.
Hell took what it saw, and was overcome by what it could not see.

O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?

Christ is risen, and you are cast down!
Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen!
Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is risen, and life is set free!
Christ is risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead.

For Christ, having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

To Christ be glory and power forever and ever. Amen!

















Original Poetry And Meditations By Monica Ellen Smith

POETRY BY Monica Ellen Smith:

I Am Here

To See God



The Victor






To See God


If you wish to see God close your eyes and open your heart. It is there you will find Him; for He came in love to offer the gift of Himself, which is all love--pure and powerful and all-embracing: To see Him become like Him!

We must be mirrors to allow others to see Christ through us. In so doing, we reflect the life-giving Light, nourishing others that they, too, may grow in holiness.







I Am Here

(c) Monica Ellen Smith
(A Poem Inspired by Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ")

I Am Here

And who comforts you?
Who reaches to grasp your hand,
I wonder, when your tears appear

Rife as rain, falling
From the tortured sky
Into which we blindly gaze
With prayerful pleas.

What more can you offer,
What signs strategically placed
Along the paths we travel
Can make us even begin

To understand the wind
Is your gasp of pain,
Your heart-rending cry,
The thunder, its distant echo.

When the rocks we aim
At each other strike your heart,
When the pain becomes unbearable,
Who comforts you, my Lord,
Who comforts you?

The Icon's Meaning:

Every picture tells a story.  Every Icon proclaims a message. 

This Icon proclaims the message that Mary, able to comfort

Christ in His suffings, is able to comforts us in ours. 

Christ is the Redeemer whose sorrow is perpetually present to us.


The Icon proclaims Mary as Mother of God, - the Greek letters near

Mary's Crown mean, "Mother of God."  The Icon also proclaims the

place of Angels in Redemption.  The Greek letters near the Angel

with the lance, reed and sponge mean, "Archangel Michael." 

Those near the Angel with the Crossand nails mean, "Archangel Gabriel." 

Beside Our Lord are the Greek initials for "Jesus Christ".


Jesus, disturbed by a Vision of His future death, runs to His Mother's

arms for help.  He is shown in a state of agitation.  Mary is shown in

a state of calm.  Jesus is so agitated He turns His Head from side to

side, only to realise that on each side is the inescapable Vision of Calvary

presented in a dignified yet frightening way by the Angels of Redemption,

Michael and Gabriel.


Jesus begins to tremble, and the trembling loosens the strap of His sandal,

which remains attached to His foot by a single strand.  Placing His hands

in Mary's, He clings to her, reminding us that a soul shaken by fear or temptation

can be saved from despair by the single strand of confidence in Mary.


Our Lady's eyes look, not at the Cross or nails, but at us.  Her EYES speak

and say, "I give my Child for your Redemption.  Do not be afraid. 

Place your hands, as Jesus does, in mine.  He and I are with you always. 

He has made me His Mother that I may be YOUR mother of PERPETUAL Help. 

My Icon is the place on earth where I meet you in every need. 

How can you ever fear?"   














In the passing seasons is seen

the ever-changing,ever-growing

cycle of our lives

The infant spring gives way

to the heated passion of youth--

like the summer, we think

it will never end


But as certain as autumn is to follow

so, too, adulthood and the cooling

of youthful desire

The winter wind wails and moans

without warning

and beneath the mournful cry

echoes "too soon, toosoon"


But the unending cycle brings again

the promise of spring

Winter's death is but a passing

into the realm of the Spirit

where we, transfigured,

put on the garment of New Life

to die











How can we be happy when sorrow enslaves so many. . .

How can we expect to have our fill when there are those who suffer impoverishment. . .

How can we take comfort in our freedom as long as there are those who suffer the throes of oppression. ..

What promise can there be of tomorrow, when today, we focus our efforts on finding new and more efficient means of destruction. . .

What hope for life do we have when we, without remorse, kill our unborn. . .

How can we contemplate salvation when we reject the Savior. . .










No one knows my suffering,

the uncertainty and fear

in my hours of desperation;

I call out to God to hear.


When this sadness overpowers

and I stumble through thenight,

my soul remains in darkness;

I want only to see the Light.


When at last I feel His presence,

it is then my fear departs;

for Light and dark cannot abide

within a single heart!










White-capped mountains

Ocean spray

Ancient cities

Far away


Celestial dwellers'

Ivory wings

heads held high

His praise to sing


As I look to heaven

This I see:

Undying tokens

Of God's majesty


Forever cherished

In memory stored

These wonders

Of our awesome Lord











In the stillness of a winter night

as the snow began to fall,

I heard him through a distant light.

To me he faintly called.


I answered, though I did not see

the one whose voice I heard.

I knew him when he spoke to me

and bade me "do not fear."


I've sensed his presence times before

in sadness, joy and in need.

In a poor man knocking at my door

he revealed himself to me.


I've felt him softly touch my hair

as autumn winds would blow--

a reminder that he's ever near.

How his love doth freely flow!



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* Background Music by Parma Byzantine Diocesan Choir, Michael E. Stinich, Director ("Let Thy Holy Spirit)