The Way to Heaven

From its beginnings, Christianity has been open and frank about its purpose. The life we presently live is illusory and transient. All who live it soon realize that it is brief and swiftly comes to a hideous end of withering finitude and a cold grave. Its purpose is to teach us about the greater life, which is to come. The human person is certainly the only creature God made that is intended to be permanent and capable of remaining holy. For the Orthodox Church teaches that each human is born perfect and good and intended for God's kind of life (however broken the world may be).

At death, a test is administered. It is not a scholastic test nor a test in the sense of chemistry, but rather something in between and a bit of both. We do prepare for it, but multiple-choice questions will not be asked nor essays posed. Rather, it is the state of our souls which is being assayed. Are we heavenly? If so, then we will not notice a seamless transition from earthly (though not worldly) life to the Kingdom of Heaven, of which we were already a part. Or are we hellish? If so, then our lives have become discontinous with the Kingdom of Heaven. We would not know where to enter or begin or take part.

In this each of us is our own final judge: we will receive what we have desired all our lives and towards which our minds have constantly drifted ... even becoming over time. The Western saint, Catherine of Siena, wrote that "It is nothing but Heaven all the way to Heaven." And we must admit that a corollary also applies, else words like "hell cat" and "hellion" said with panache and braggadocio would be indeciperable.

As the early Church taught, so the Orthodox Catholic Church teaches today. The faith is not so much "what we believe" as "what we are" (of which belief is a component). We cannot be Christian in certain areas of our minds or emotions, but worldly the rest of the time. It must be one way or the other.

The goal of life, then, is to take seriously the royal family resemblance gracing us from birth. We are adopted children of God. God's Only-begotten Son is our elder brother. We follow Him, emulate Him, and then resemble Him over time, eventually becoming Him in a sense as He and the Father are One (Jn 10:30). This all proceeds from our inner desires and love of God, which includes love of neighbor. It is practiced and refined and becomes our second nature.

The links below are intended to assist us. Think of them as being advice shared within the family — grandfathers, uncles, mothers, and aunts — who are passing on cherished heirlooms. The Hermitage will expand this page year by year as we make our own way ahead admitting that it will always be incomplete. We welcome suggestions.

Attend! Wisdom!

The Word of God

We draw near to God's Holy Mountain slowly and with caution. If Mount Sinai should be of one Word with the Decalogue, which proceeded from it, then surely we approach Holy Scripture with the same reverence and mindfulness. For which Holy Mountain compares to it towering above the world in stately aloofness, yes, and danger?

Here is the encounter with God and with the Logos, Who made the world and us from Itself. Each Word is Divine and a bottomless pool into the depths of God.

The Holy Scripture from which Jesus quoted was not the Hebrew Bible but the third-second-century B.C. Greek translation, the Septuagint (Werner Jaeger, Early Christianity and Greek Paideia):

Kata Biblon Greek Septuagint

The New Testament, of course, was conceived and written in Greek. Many Christians who believe themselves to be deeply committed to God's Word must eventually face the truth: the Greek New Testament alone may be called the Word of God. Translations are secondary literature — they are about the Bible, but they cannot be said to be the Bible. Many translations have hidden agendas such as the famous crux at John (21:15ff). The Lord asks Peter three times, "Do you love me?" In nearly all English translations, we read that Peter replies "You know that I love you." In fact, Jesus uses the verb form of agape (the sacrificial, willing-to-give-your-life love of a mother for her child) and Peter each time replies weakly with the verb form of philia (which might be compared to an apprentice's love for his master). Suddenly, the passage makes sense — why Jesus repeats the question and why the encounter concludes with a flinty warning.

If you love Him, then read the words He actually spoke:

Greek New Testament

Guides Along the Way:

The Philokalia, Vols. 1-4 (eds. Palmer, Sherrard, Ware)