Saint George Orthodox Church of Spring Valley, IL

10/30/2026

10/30/2026

10/30/2026

10/30/2026

10/27/2026

The Wisdom of the Gospel and the Hope of the Resurrection:
A Message to the Children of the Antiochian Church

"Be wise as serpents and harmless as doves." (Matthew 10:16)

"If indeed we suffer with Him, that we may be also glorified together" (Romans 8:17)

To our beloved sons and daughters in Christ,

To the clergy, monks, and nuns, and to all the faithful men and women in the homeland and overseas,

May the peace and hope of Christ be with you all.

At the conclusion of the sixteenth session of the Holy Antiochian Synod, we address you with words of comfort and hope, and with feelings of appreciation and gratitude for your faith, courage, and daily combat in facing the burdens of life, as you strive to remain faithful to Christ, to your families, and to those whom God has entrusted to you. We see this faithfulness in those who persevere in their work despite hardship, in parents who carry the cares of their children, in young people striving to build a dignified future, in those who cling to their land as best they can, in those forced to leave and start life anew, and in all who renew each day their choice of love, faith, and hope.

We wish to express our appreciation for all who carry out the ministry of care in our parishes and archdioceses: clergy, members of councils and pastoral committees, youth movements, women's groups, and all volunteers and workers in fields such as social service, health, education, teaching, and training. The time, effort, attention, and sacrifice that they offer, each according to their vocation and ability, bear witness to a vivid love for the Church and her children and for every neighbor, especially in circumstances where needs multiply and resources narrow, while burdens increase and wounds abound.

We know that this ministry, full of faithfulness and devotion, cannot always respond to every need, while shortcomings eventually may occur. Sometimes suffering remains without adequate treatment; sometimes voices are not heard in time. Acknowledging this is by no means diminishing those who minister, but rather a call to greater humility, cooperation, and review, and to carrying together the responsibility for what we can repair, without burdening workers with verdicts that do not take into account the limits of their energy and capacities.

Care, in our circumstances, resembles the work of a physician who faces chronic diseases requiring long-term follow-up, patience, and support, as well as emergency cases requiring swift intervention and sound judgment. The physician tries to assess all the needs, using whatever knowledge, capabilities, and resources available, and setting priorities according to the intensity of pain and the urgency of need, being aware that his capacity remains limited considering his challenges. Therefore, the Church is called to care and to continue striving without claiming perfection, relying on divine grace and on the solidarity of love among the members of the one body.

For the Church is not only the pastors, nor is it a collection of individuals each living their faith separately; it is the community of all believers, gathered by Christ and called to be for one another brothers and members of one body. The Apostle Paul says: "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Galatians 6:2). In this call lies the foundation and form of care: that each one shares what he or she can, that love is expressed by listening, supporting, and assisting, so that the weary and the servant both find assistance. As a result, neither the needy nor the servant are left to face what exceeds their ability.

In this context, the Lord Jesus addresses us saying: "Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves" (Matthew 10:16) It is a call to a wisdom that preserves the faith and recognizes priorities, a gentleness that preserves human dignity, and a courage that faces reality without denying its difficulties or surrendering to them. It is also a call to learn from those who carry the yoke of Christ faithfully and lighten the burdens of others in silence, without forgetting that they themselves need rest and comfort. For Christ does not promise us a life free of burdens, but calls us saying: "Take my yoke upon you... and you will find rest for your souls" (Matthew 11:29). In him, the servant finds strength, the suffering finds consolation, and the community finds its ability to continue the way.

We believe that the struggle of faithfulness, in the life of believers and in the service of pastors and volunteers, is not without fruit. According to Saint Paul: "If we suffer with him, we will also be glorified with him" (Romans 8:17). Pain is not an end in itself, nor is injustice something we accept, but we believe that love that perseveres, service that gives itself, and faithfulness that stands firm in trials—all find their meaning in Christ risen from the dead, who does not let the toil of love be in vain.

Antioch, in its history and present, is above all a wager of a community on Jesus Christ alone, and faithfulness to his word and commandment, and a witness to him in every circumstance. For since the disciples were first called Christians in Antioch, the strength of the Church was not in possessing guarantees, but in remaining firm in faith, in living love, and in bearing witness to Christ amid the vicissitudes of history. And today too, in persecution and injustice and war and distress, as in migration and estrangement and the challenges of daily life, our calling remains to hold fast to the Lord, to bear one another's burdens, and to continue serving humanity according to the grace, wisdom, and ability we have been given.

The Church of Antioch is not alone, nor is it called to close in on its wounds or to live captive to its past. Rather, it is called, wherever its children dwell, to be salt that seasons their existence with the grace of witness to their faith, according to the word of the Lord: "You are the salt of the earth" (Matthew 5:13). To be a presence that preserves human dignity, gives hope to the weary, makes room for love and reconciliation, and bears witness that faith is not flight from the world, but faithfulness to Christ in the heart of the world. Hence, however circumstances change and countries separate, Antioch remains one community, not because her children do not suffer or stumble, but because they renew together their wager on Christ, turn to him in repentance, and find in him their strength, rest, and hope.

We ask the Lord to root us in his word, to teach us to bear one another's burdens, to make our witness to him sincere in love, steadfast in trials, and fruitful in service to humanity. May he keep his Church in faith, hope, and love.

To Christ God, risen from the dead, be all glory forever and ever. Amen.

Issued by the Fathers of the Holy Antiochian Synod at the conclusion of the sixteenth synodal session.

Balamand, Friday, 23 October 2026

https://www.antiochian.org/regulararticle/2985

Antioch Patriarchate

10/27/2026

10/25/2026

Saint Maria Skobtsova of Paris
By His Eminence Metropolitan Saba

She was a rare personality, overflowing with strength and energy. She lived the commandment to love one's neighbor in an extraordinary way. She knew life in all its stark reality. She experienced marriage and divorce, as well as a mother's grief at the death of her children. She consecrated her life to monasticism in "the desert of this world." Her life resembled the ministry of a deaconess who washed the feet of the suffering and destitute, especially her fellow countrymen who had fled Russia and found themselves displaced in Paris. She rebelled against every form of stagnation. She wrote poetry, delivered theological and philosophical lectures, and interpreted contemporary reality in the light of evangelistic love. She died in a N**i concentration camp, consumed by fire, shortly before the end of the Second World War.

This remarkable woman desired to live the monastic life in the world and to bear a message of consolation to a suffering world. She became known for her disregard of social conventions, her rejection of spiritual comfort, her radically simple evangelistic way of life, and her desire to serve the poor and the suffering—in whom Christ is found.

She was born in 1891 in a city in southern Russia, to devout Orthodox parents. She believed in the Lord Jesus and regarded love for people as the path leading to love for Him. She therefore sacrificed everything—her time and her health—to help those who were in desperate need of food, drink, and shelter. She searched for them in the narrow streets of Paris and beneath its trees, then brought them to the house she had rented for their sake, to shelter them and protect them from the bitter Parisian cold. She firmly believed that there was no other path to Paradise except participation in the Lord's mercy.

Her marriage was unsuccessful. After it collapsed and one of her children died, Metropolitan Evlogy encouraged her to embrace monasticism "in the desert of this world." She took the name Mother Maria and began her work in a rented house that was not fully furnished. She therefore had to wrap herself in blankets and sleep on the floor beneath an icon of the Mother of God.

On the very first night, benefactors gradually began sending furniture, while guests began arriving at the same time. At first, most of the guests were Russian women. To make room for others, Mother Maria gave up her own room and slept on an iron bed in the basement beside the water heater. She transformed an upstairs room into a chapel and enlarged the dining room so that it could be used as a hall for lectures and discussions.

After two years, the house could no longer accommodate everyone. She therefore searched for a larger one, where she was able to feed a hundred hungry people. She transformed its back garden into a chapel. There, her guests could catch their breath until the time came when they were able to resume their lives once again.

The work continued to grow. She rented another building and designated one of the houses for families in need and the other for single men. She also acquired a farm that was transformed into a convalescent home, where a group of women deprived of every consolation found refuge. No one knows how many souls this Russian nun saved in France during the German occupation. Hundreds? Certainly—and perhaps thousands, for she never kept count.

Mother Maria could have left Paris as the Germans advanced toward the city. She could even have departed for America. But her decision was firm: "If the Germans occupy the city, I shall remain here with my elderly women. Where else could I possibly send them?"

At Pascha in 1940, Mother Maria wrote:

"Death rules over the entire world. At this very moment, I know that death has struck hundreds of people, while thousands await their turn. I also know that mothers are waiting for the postman and tremble whenever the mail is more than a day late."

Hunger and poverty intensified after the fall of Paris. The authorities designated Mother Maria's house as a food-distribution center. This opened the way for her to enter a N**i detention center, where she worked for three consecutive days, consoling the children and their parents, assisting them, and distributing whatever food she had been able to obtain. With the help of sanitation workers, she saved the lives of many children by hiding them in garbage containers and smuggling them out of the detention center.

On February 8, 1943, N**i security forces arrested her son, Yuri, and took him and his elderly grandmother to an interrogation office. On February 10, Mother Maria was arrested together with thirty-four other women because she was sheltering Jews fleeing arrest in her house. She was deported to Germany. Her son Yuri and Father Dimitri, the priest who served the house chapel, later died in prison.

Mother Maria, prisoner number 19263, remained in the concentration camp for two years. She was placed in Barracks 27, situated in a corner of the large camp, not far from Barracks 31, which was filled with Russian prisoners. She was able to establish friendships with many of them.

She believed that her only way out of the camp would be through the crematorium. She therefore asked one of her fellow prisoners, whom she hoped would survive, to deliver an oral message to Father Sergius Bulgakov, Metropolitan Evlogy, and her mother:

"In my present condition, I must accept these sufferings, knowing that this is how things must be for me. And if I must die, I will receive it as a blessing from above."

In a postcard she was permitted to send to several friends in Paris, she wrote:

"I am still healthy and strong, but I have grown old."

Her work in the camp varied. For a time, she worked with a group of women who were forced to pull a heavy iron roller along the roads and entrances of the camp for twelve hours each day. At another stage, she worked in a weaving workshop. Her strength gradually began to fail, and her legs could no longer support her. During roll call, one of the prisoners would serve as a crutch for her. When her health collapsed, her friends would no longer accept any portion of her food, as they had so often done before when she sought to keep others alive.

As the Red Army approached from the east, those in charge of the concentration camp reduced the quantity of food and increased the number of prisoners housed in each barracks. By March 1945, Mother Maria's condition had become critical. She had to lie on her bed between roll calls and rarely spoke. Her face bore the signs of approaching death. Yet she never complained. Her eyes remained closed, and she appeared to be in a state of unceasing prayer.

Mother Maria died on March 30, at the age of fifty-three. That year, the date fell on Great and Holy Friday, while the sound of the approaching Red Army's bombardment could be heard.

Accounts of her death differ. According to one, she was simply one of the many prisoners selected to die that day. According to another, she took the place of a fellow prisoner—an account wholly consistent with the noble life she had lived. In either case, she consciously offered herself to the flames, and in doing so helped all of us to accept the Cross.

She was illumined by the peace of the Lord and transmitted that peace to us. Although she perished in the gas chamber, she did not die in the Church's memory. The survivors of the war who had known her continued to speak of her faith, her thoughts, her convictions, and her work as a nun of extraordinary character who had spent many years helping people living on the road of despair.

On January 16, 2004, the Ecumenical Patriarchate proclaimed her a saint, together with Father Dimitri and her son Yuri.

https://www.antiochian.org/regulararticle/2981