A Time to Gather Stones #

V.V. Buzhinsky

“Thy priests shall be clothed with righteousness, and thy saints shall rejoice.” (Psalm 131:9)

“The Lord looked down from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, and seek God.” (Psalm 13:2)

In the Revelation of St. John the Apostle and Evangelist, God addresses the seven churches of Asia Minor. He finds approval only in the spiritual state of two churches—Philadelphia and Smyrna. To the others—Pergamos, Thyatira, Ephesus, Sardis, and Laodicea—He calls to repentance, declaring that only through repentance will they receive their reward. As Mikhail Barsov, the compiler of a commentary on the Apocalypse, rightly noted, addressing specific churches does not mean that the message is to be understood in a strictly literal or historical sense. In speaking to these churches, God speaks to all churches in all times. Likewise, believers of every generation can derive much of value from these exhortations for the perfection of their spiritual life and their salvation in eternity.

Philadelphia stands as an example to be followed and a guide in spiritual seeking. Therefore, let us consider in full the message given to it:

“And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write: These things saith the Holy One, the True One, He that hath the key of David, He that openeth, and no man shutteth; and shutteth, and no man openeth: I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept My word, and hast not denied My name. Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee. Because thou hast kept the word of My patience, I also will keep thee from the hour of trial, which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth. Behold, I come quickly: hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown. Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of My God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of My God, and the name of the city of My God, which is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from My God: and I will write upon him My new name. He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches.” (Revelation 3:7–13)

Why is the church of Philadelphia the model? What is so distinctive about it that a door is set open before it? Is this not directly related to the salvation of Christ’s Church in the last times?

“And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she hath a place prepared of God, that they should feed her there a thousand two hundred and threescore days.” (Revelation 12:6)

The answer is partially given within the message itself. The preservation of God’s word—the word of His patience—is the fundamental condition for the preservation of the church of Philadelphia from the hour of trial which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth.

“The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried in a furnace of earth, purified seven times. Thou shalt keep them, O Lord, Thou shalt preserve them from this generation for ever.” (Psalm 11:7-8)

What do these words mean?

These words contain truth.

Certainly, the word of God is Holy Scripture. And it has been preached throughout the whole earth.

The holy men, who through their prayerful labor, righteousness, and good works attained closeness to God, have made the word of God accessible even to us, mere mortals. Today, we have a guide for studying Holy Scripture—Holy Tradition. It is called Holy because it is also the word of God, only read between the lines, as it were, through the illumination of the Holy Spirit.

But is the word of God found only in Holy Scripture and Holy Tradition?

Our holy father John Chrysostom, in explaining an event of antiquity—when Korah, Dathan, Abiram, and two hundred and fifty other renowned sons of Israel rose up against Moses and Aaron, seeking to abolish the priesthood and saying to them: “Ye take too much upon you, seeing all the congregation are holy, every one of them, and the Lord is among them: wherefore then lift ye up yourselves above the congregation of the Lord?” (Numbers 16:3)—wrote:

“Was it necessary to disregard the desecration of the priesthood, the violation of God’s laws, the destruction of that which upholds everything, namely, the sacred rank? To make what is inaccessible available to all? And through indulgence toward these men, to allow everyone who wished to trample upon the sacred enclosure and overthrow everything?” [2]

Yet the priesthood is not an end in itself; it is called to fulfill a very specific task—it is called to service. But its service is complete only when the priests “are clothed with righteousness.” (Psalm 131:9). St. John Chrysostom explains: “Here, righteousness refers to the sacred rites, the priesthood, divine service, sacrifices, and offerings, as well as a blameless way of life, which must especially be required of priests.” [2] He further states: “Consider: he does not ask for the construction of a city, nor an abundance of provisions, nor any other prosperity, but rather for the beauty of the temple, the repose of the Ark, the perfection of the priests, the completeness of the sacred rites, divine worship, and the priesthood.” [2]

Let us ponder the saint’s final statement. Why is the perfection of all these things necessary above all else? Could it be because everything depends upon them—that upon them rests the stability of the nation, the city, the home, and the family; that they determine the presence of provisions and other forms of well-being?

Thus, we logically arrive at the concept of “the one who restrains,” as spoken of by the Apostle Paul:

“Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition… And now ye know what withholdeth that he might be revealed in his time. For the mystery of iniquity doth already work: only he who now letteth will let, until he be taken out of the way.” (2 Thessalonians 2:3–4, 6–7)

That is to say, “the one who restrains” is none other than the perfect, Sacred Divine Service—one that includes the sacred rites, the priesthood, divine worship in the churches, sacrifices, offerings, and a blameless way of life, which is required of all, but especially of priests. The entire life of a believer must be divine worship.

This is no new revelation. Faithful people have always known that in places where there are monasteries, where processions of the cross are regularly held, or where people pray fervently, there are fewer social upheavals, fewer natural disasters, better harvests, and so on. If someone is saved from an otherwise hopeless situation, we say that someone must have been praying for him. When we encounter troubles, we turn to God with increased fervor, ask others to pray for us, and God helps us.

But how can this be done in the best way possible?

Clearly, in the way that God has commanded—if we desire that He hear us. And this condition becomes all the more decisive and defining if we understand that God has His own purpose, one that we can only comprehend in part, and even then, only with the help of the holy fathers.

“For by Him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by Him, and for Him: and He is before all things, and by Him all things consist. And He is the head of the body, the Church: who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead; that in all things He might have the preeminence. For it pleased the Father that in Him should all fullness dwell; and, having made peace through the blood of His cross, by Him to reconcile all things unto Himself; by Him, I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven.” (Colossians 1:16–20)

Sacred Divine Service was established by God for Himself and His purposes, and for this reason, even the slightest distortion of divine worship is unacceptable. It is precisely this form of worship that possesses the necessary restraining properties, which are essential for the fulfillment of God’s providence. And it is through such worship that not only restraint but also edification is possible [3]. Furthermore, everything depends on the number of believers who participate in the true, that is, Orthodox, Divine Service [3].

Sacred Divine Service is a mystery, for it is the Kingdom of the Holy Spirit. And here, there are no trifles. Yet, in the Kingdom of the Holy Spirit, man behaves like an elephant wielding a sledgehammer in a china shop. That infamous human pride does us a great disservice. The biblical figures Korah, Dathan, and Abiram sought to “make the inaccessible accessible to all,” to trample “the sacred enclosure and overthrow everything.” After them, many more Korahs, Dathans, and Abirams have tried to desecrate the priesthood, to destroy Divine Worship—and, it must be said, they have often succeeded.

Truth in the mouth of God is always absolute truth.

To the ancient Hebrews, God Himself gave Divine Worship in the most intricate detail. Thus, it was true worship, and for its time, perfect. But just as true and sacred must be the Divine Worship in which the New Testament priests are clothed, for Jesus Christ Himself is the founder of His Church:

“I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18)

It follows, then, that the righteousness in which priests must be clothed for Divine Worship to be sacred is, itself, also the word of God.

This is also testified by St. Ephraim the Syrian [4], who speaks of the restraining power of true, that is, Sacred Divine Worship:

“Thus, until the ancient worship, which now restrains, is abolished through the already-prepared destruction of the city (Jerusalem), and until the apostolic preaching, which now proclaims the truth, is likewise removed, and after it a different teaching spreads, the Day of the Lord, which these false deceivers proclaim as already at hand, shall not yet come.”

According to St. Ephraim the Syrian, the Divine Service itself is the restraining force. “Before the new worship is proclaimed, the old one still acts.” [4]

There is yet another essential and, apparently, extremely important task for the Church of Philadelphia—preserving the “word of God’s patience.” This is emphasized as a distinct line in Scripture, and it appears to be one of the decisive conditions for the Church’s preservation “from the hour of trial, which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth.”

Let us recall—where and when was God’s patience stretched to its very limit? Throughout human history, there have been more than a few instances where even divine patience was not enough. Once, man was cast out of Paradise. Another time, it was only through Noah that the history of humanity did not come to an end. We can recall Sodom and Gomorrah. And how much patience did God need to establish His own people? How many times did they fall away from Him, forget their calling, and turn to worship other gods? Where can we find a word that could fully express the measure of God’s patience throughout the Old Testament times?

But the Old Testament times were only a preparation for the New. Thus, the “word of God’s patience” must also encompass the patience of the New Testament era. But when did God’s patience reach its greatest limit? We live in what are called the New Times, though they are not so new anymore, and, by all indications, they are drawing to a close. People have long marveled at how God has endured so much for so long. The sins of mankind against God are beyond enumeration.

But perhaps the most crucial, intense, and dramatic moment in history was when all of human will had to be gathered unto Him, to God—when He was struck, spat upon, insulted, and the crowds shouted: “Crucify Him, crucify Him!” Perhaps among those voices were some who had only recently been miraculously healed by Him. And then He was nailed to the tree, to the Cross, condemned to the most shameful execution, alongside criminals.

We often fail to understand our own imperfection and thus blame ourselves for our misfortunes far less than we should. It would be easier for us to endure suffering if we recognized our own flaws and saw the justice in the hardships that befall us. It would be even easier if, instead of reproaching God, we learned to thank Him. We know from experience that it is much harder to endure an offense when we believe it was unjustly inflicted upon us. But we can never truly comprehend what patience must be for the perfect Man, who was without sin, because He was also God. How can one put His patience into words? Can we express that which no man has ever fully experienced? If so, then only God Himself can express it—thus, the “word of God’s patience” is also the word of God.

But can it be conveyed in words? And yet, it has been conveyed. Read the Gospel… And it has not been forgotten. It has been preached throughout the world.

But then, does it not follow that all churches have preserved the “word of God’s patience”? If so, then the doors should also be opened to the churches of Pergamos, Thyatira, and even Laodicea. Yet, no such promise is made in Revelation. These churches did not preserve the “word of God’s patience.”

Moreover, emotions and profound spiritual realities are not always easily expressed in words—especially in a single phrase such as “word of patience.” Perhaps it refers to something else? Perhaps it is a symbol that has been treated as a mere trifle, something insignificant and unworthy of attention? Words are treated with reverence (though not by all), for we have been warned not to alter even a single letter. But what of symbols—visual, musical, or otherwise?

The Sign of the Cross! Could it be that this is the “word of God’s patience”? But nearly all churches have preserved the sign of the cross. It is true, however, that each church performs it differently.

The Hand Formation!

Here is where the difference may lie. It is said that people once crossed themselves with a single finger; later, with two fingers, then three, and even five.

Fedor Melnikov, the well-known Old Believer writer and historian of the 19th–20th centuries, compares the two-finger and three-finger signings, writing [5]:

“In the two-fingered sign of the cross, the index finger represents the human nature of Christ, while the adjacent great-middle finger represents the divine nature of the Son of God. According to catechetical teaching, this finger must be bent at its upper joint, signifying the belief that ’the Lord hath bowed the heavens and come down to earth.’ The remaining fingers—the thumb and the last two—are joined together to signify the Holy Trinity. As we see, the two-fingered formation involves all five fingers, confessing both the Holy Trinity and the two natures of Christ, but in the act of making the sign of the cross and blessing, only two fingers are placed on the forehead, the chest, the right shoulder, and the left. Theologically and dogmatically, the two-fingered sign is a fully Orthodox confession of faith. Most importantly, it clearly and explicitly expresses—and, if one may say so, demonstrates or manifests—the central essence of Christianity: the crucifixion and death of the God-Man on the Cross, along with the co-crucifixion of all humanity. ‘We preach Christ crucified,’ proclaims the Apostle Paul (1 Corinthians 1:23). The two-fingered sign itself proclaims the same. It is essential and visible—the evangelical and apostolic confession.”

“In the three-fingered sign, however, there is neither this central Christian confession nor this apostolic preaching. The Council of 1667 dogmatized: ‘The sign of the honorable and life-giving Cross shall be made upon oneself with the three first fingers of the right hand: the thumb, the index finger, and the middle finger, joined together in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit; while the two remaining fingers—the little finger and the ring finger—shall be bent and at rest.’ However, concerning the Son of God as the God-Man, as Jesus Christ who suffered on the Cross, not a single word is mentioned. There is no confession of Him in the three-fingered sign. This is a sign without the God-Man, without Christ the Savior. Not even was it stated that within the Holy Trinity He is confessed as having two natures.”

“How could the pious people of that time renounce the two-fingered sign—the true sign of Christ—and accept the three-fingered sign, which entirely omits the confession of Christ the God-Man? Moreover, with this sign, stripped of Christ, the cross is traced upon a person. Thus, in this wild new sign, the Holy Trinity is crucified without Christ, without His humanity, without Man. This was, at the very least, in this dreadful symbol, a rejection of the very essence of Christianity—its core, its central meaning, and its purpose. Such a three-fingered sign could only be accepted by those who either did not understand the meaning and significance of Christianity or were forced to do so by coercion.”

What more can be added? Perhaps only this: in the “word of patience,” as in the word of God, there can be no falsehood, for it is one of the words in the Sacred Divine Service.

We often speak of great writers, poets, composers, architects, and creative figures in various professions, saying, “He has spoken his word.” We do not mean this literally, but rather that they have introduced a new artistic method, a new combination of visual and auditory imagery, movements, techniques, and so on.

Are we justified in denying God such a figurative, allegorical word? Expanding on the thought of F. Melnikov, we may consider that in the “word of patience” of God—if we understand it as the sign of the cross with the two-fingered formation—there is not only the patience of God and the perfect Man in one person at the time of the Crucifixion. The Holy Trinity is also present in the two-fingered formation, yet it stands above all, symbolizing the divine Plan, whose central event is the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. It expresses the patience of the Holy Trinity in carrying out its original Plan. This Plan has existed from eternity—“before all ages.” And thus, it is simultaneously the “word of patience” of both the Old and New Testaments. It is fitting to repeat the conclusion: “If people were killed for crossing themselves with two fingers, then how one makes the sign of the cross must have immense and fundamental significance.”

In light of what has been said, it is reasonable to speak of a certain Philadelphian Divine Service, the service of the true Church of Christ. Thus, the Philadelphian Church is the Church that has preserved all that was commanded by God. It has always existed and will exist until the end of days, for “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” The preservation of the Philadelphian Divine Service is an extremely important and difficult task. For this endeavor, God may open the door—not only for the entire Church of Christ in the last times but also for every believer in all times—“which no one can shut.” Perhaps this is the “crown of life” promised to the Church of Philadelphia. And on this difficult and blessed path, the “word of patience” has always helped believers endure, even when endurance seemed impossible.

It should be noted that the Old Testament Divine Service of the Jews did not take shape immediately. As circumstances required, God introduced new elements into it. The same can be said about the formation of Orthodox Divine Service. The primary order of service was established by the holy Apostles. It is likely that the Philadelphian Divine Service is the model of such an establishment. Later, necessary elements were added to Orthodox Divine Service in accordance with the needs of the time. These additions were made by the holy fathers, and therefore, they too are the word of God. For example, the Creed, which entered into universal use from the First Ecumenical Council and was expanded at the Second, was not initially recited at every Liturgy. However, in the early sixth century, due to the rise of heretical teachings concerning the nature of the Son of God, it was established that the Creed should be proclaimed at every Liturgy.

We have not randomly turned our attention to the Creed, for the obvious untenability—and indeed the fatal nature—of the Nikonian-Alexeyevite reforms becomes clear precisely when analyzing the distortions made to the Creed.

Researchers identify four such distortions. First, the alteration of the written form of the Savior’s name. Second, the removal of the opposition between birth and creation. Third, the teaching of Christ’s Kingdom as something purely future. Fourth, the omission of the designation of the Holy Spirit as true.

The very omission of the adjective “true” is equivalent to blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, which, as is known, shall not be forgiven. This fact alone allows us to assert that the Holy Spirit could not have been present at the council that denied His truthfulness. Thus, all its innovations are not only erroneous but destructive.

It is widely acknowledged that the translation of the Holy Scriptures was carried out by our enlighteners, the equal-to-the-apostles Saints Cyril and Methodius. Some speculate that the first liturgical texts were also translated by them. Which texts can be considered among the first? Certainly, and above all, the order of Baptism, the morning and evening prayers, and the Divine Liturgy, in which the Creed is proclaimed. However, the original texts attributed to the enlighteners have not yet been discovered. This is by no means accidental. Nothing happens by chance. It seems necessary that we correlate historical facts with divine signs, develop perception, and expand our understanding of the world. That we train our minds, learn to think logically—that is, acquire ears to hear and strive to listen to the Lord. That we recognize ourselves and consciously fulfill the tasks set before us by God. That we keep watch…

It appears that Vladimir Senatov most accurately conveyed the Russian attitude toward the Greek text of the Creed before the Schism:

“Nikon saw the Greek Creed simply and naturally, just as other Russians before him had seen and read it. The Greek version of the Creed did not make any particular impression on these Russians. It never occurred to any of them that the word ’true’ in the Creed was superfluous, that it introduced a new, albeit microscopically small, nuance into the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, or that the Ecumenical Councils and all the Greeks did not think of Him as the true Lord. They were well aware that in the Greek Creed, the concept of the Holy Spirit is defined by a single word, both as Lord and as true, that this word hōríos could be translated into Russian either as ‘Lord’ or as ’true,’ and that translations using either of these terms had existed. Both translations seemed inadequate, failing to fully convey the essential meaning of the Greek Creed itself, whereas this meaning was most precisely conveyed by the use of both concepts together, corresponding to the Greek hōríos.”

On this basis, the Russians silently accepted the slight textual difference between the Russian and Greek versions of the Creed; moreover, they—even rightly—saw in this difference the closest possible resemblance between them. Such resemblance could not have been achieved by a mere arithmetic comparison of expressions in both Creeds. For them, what mattered was not this arithmetic, but the essential meaning of the doctrine itself. In reality, Nikon made no discovery when he learned that the Greek Creed did not contain the word ’true’—this had long been known before him. But, as already mentioned, this knowledge had previously made no impression. In Nikon, however, it caused a kind of storm—perhaps even a genuine spiritual anxiety for the integrity and purity of Russian Orthodoxy.

Here, there arises a need to disagree with the author. The Russian translation of the Creed does seem to introduce a “microscopically small nuance,” but this nuance is of great significance. The key point is that the Russian translation does not allow for ambiguity—that is, it eliminates the possibility of varied interpretations, which, as we now understand, have arisen repeatedly when translating from Greek. This is a significant advantage. Most importantly, the Russian Creed more precisely affirms the fundamental Christian doctrine of the unity, indivisibility, and consubstantiality of the Trinity. Indeed, for the unity, consubstantiality, and indivisibility of the Trinity to be preserved, each Hypostasis must possess that which belongs only to God—who is Truth: “But the Lord God is the truth” (Jer. 10:10). This most essential property of each Hypostasis—Truth—is explicitly and unequivocally confessed in the Russian Creed, giving it a new, independent, and foundational significance.

Thus, to repeat, the omission of the adjective ’true’—as the most important characteristic of the Holy Spirit—diminishes the Trinity, casting doubt on its unity, consubstantiality, and indivisibility. Such a confession of the Creed can be qualified as heresy. Likewise, the Divine Service of the Nikonian Church is more reformed than that of the Greek Church, and therefore neither can be Philadelphian (Orthodox), for by definition, the Philadelphian Divine Service cannot be reformed or distorted, as it is the word of God.

The opposite of the Philadelphian Church is the Laodicean Church, in which, due to heresies, nothing has been preserved: the word of God has been forgotten, apostolic succession has been lost, and therefore, there are no sacraments. In it, certain books of Holy Scripture are selectively accepted while others are rejected, Holy Tradition has been cast aside, Divine Worship has been severely distorted or entirely lost, the name of God has been forgotten, and the word of God’s patience has not been preserved. There, complete spiritual devastation reigns.

Let us now examine, through the concept of “the one who restrains,” the fate of the cities of Asia Minor in which the churches mentioned in Revelation by St. John the Apostle and Evangelist were located (Rev. 2–3).

To aid us in this study, we turn to Mikhail Barsov. The state of these cities and the spiritual life within them is described as of 1894, the year of the first edition of his Commentary. There exist later descriptions of the contemporary state of Asia Minor’s cities, but they are neither as detailed nor as vivid. Thus, we will rely on the characterizations provided in this work, for it is natural to assume that in the following century, within a predominantly Muslim environment, Christian life there has hardly become more spiritually flourishing.

Philadelphia. “The promises of the Lord are as immutable as His warnings: and of all the cities mentioned in the Apocalypse, Philadelphia alone has retained its integrity and Christian character to this day.” “At present, it is encouraging and uplifting for a Christian traveler to find Christianity here in a more flourishing state than in many other parts of the Turkish Empire. Among the colonies and churches of Asia Minor, Philadelphia still stands as a ‘pillar amidst a vast spectacle of ruins.’ The Christian population remains fairly numerous even now, possessing its own bishop and twenty-five churches.” “As if to mark the former sanctity of this place, it is now called Allah-Shehr, meaning ‘City of God,’ a name that involuntarily recalls the prophetic promise: I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God (Rev. 3:12). The iniquities of men have repeatedly demonstrated how fearful are the judgments proclaimed by God, yet the Church of Philadelphia, having kept His word, remains on earth as a monument to His faithfulness in fulfilling His promises, awaiting in Heaven the higher glory promised to the victorious. The most glorious Conqueror of hell shall fulfill upon it the truth of His words: Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God (Rev. 3:12). He will fulfill His word as surely as the fact that Philadelphia, while all else around it has fallen, has remained and continues to stand—according to the very words of the enemies of the faith—‘as a pillar among the ruins.’”

Smyrna. “At the beginning of the past century, Smyrna had a population of 28,000, of whom 11,000 were Christians of Orthodox, Armenian, and Roman Catholic confessions, each with their own churches, monasteries, and bishops. As an Orthodox Christian Church, Smyrna has retained its status as a Metropolis in the ecclesiastical hierarchy and possesses two churches: that of St. Gregory and that of St. Photina. At present, Smyrna has about 120,000 inhabitants, and in its current state, it surpasses all the ancient Christian cities of this region.”

Pergamos. “Among the inhabitants of Pergamos, there are about 200 Armenians and up to 1,500 Greeks, both of whom have their own church.” The Greek church is “the only place for Orthodox worship, and it is cared for as best as possible by the metropolitans of Smyrna. The church stands on the slope of a hill and is a small and impoverished building; only the altar remains from ancient times, while everything else has been rebuilt or newly constructed. The icons of old Greek painting have blackened to such an extent that even under the brightest sunlight and the glow of the ever-burning lamps, the faces depicted on them cannot be discerned.”

“Struck by the multitude of ancient ruins, the gaze of a Christian traveler lingers with reverence upon the remnants of the Church of St. John the Theologian, built by Theodosius at the time when he had the cross affixed to his imperial standard, signifying that the Christian faith had become the dominant religion of the entire world. This church was the finest example of Greek Christian architecture after the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople. Even its ruins now astonish with their vastness, bearing witness at the same time to the once-great Christian population in these places—where now, almost only Muslims dwell.”

“Examining these majestic remnants of ancient Christianity, the traveler is drawn by the dim light of a lamp that burns before an old icon of the Mother of God, blackened by time, hanging on a bare and crumbling wall.”

Thyatira. “Its present name among the Turks is Ak-Hissar, meaning ‘White Fortress.’ A long avenue lined with cypress and poplar trees leads to this town. At its end, domes and minarets of mosques are visible, while hills rise on either side, encircling the entire city.” “A sorrowful picture is also presented by the present state of Christianity in this ancient land of Lydia. Orthodox Christians here comprise 300 households, while Armenians number only 30; together, they total around 1,500 souls. Both groups have their own churches. The Greek church stands in the middle of a cemetery and has almost entirely sunk into the ground, so that one must descend several steps to enter. Yet even in this dark underground chamber, the lamp of the ancient apostolic Church continues to burn with an unextinguished light.”

Ephesus. Instead of the ancient and magnificent Ephesus, a small village called Aya-Soluk rises among heaps of ruins. It is inhabited by a hundred Muslims who huddle at the top of a hill. Here, the arches of an old aqueduct stretch out, and a mosque stands—converted from the former Church of St. John the Theologian. And this is all that remains of ancient Christian Ephesus! Not a single family, not a single Christian soul can be found where once stood the great Church of Ephesus, where the holy hierarchs and pastors of the Universal Church once gathered. The Epistle to the Ephesians is read throughout the entire world, but in Ephesus itself, no one reads it. Thus, its lampstand has been removed from its place, and the light of early Christianity has been extinguished.

Sardis. “In Sardis, there are no human dwellings, no human souls to be found at all. Only from time to time do bands of predatory Turkomans pass through with their camels and flocks, setting up tents in the fields before moving on, having consumed all the greenery. As the site of an ancient Christian Church, this city has lost everything that could possibly be lost—even its very name. Among the wandering visitors, a Christian traveler would seek in vain for a single worshipper of Christ. The magnificent ruins of Sardis stir many sorrowful memories and inspire the most solemn reflections. Only through these ruins can the location of the ancient city be identified—without them, its very name would have faded into oblivion. On the plain, the remains of a graceful temple of Cybele can still be seen; five surviving columns once supported a massive slab of marble, of which only a fragment remains.” “Yet for a Christian traveler, the most remarkable ruins here are those of two churches: the Church of the Panagia and the Church of St. John the Theologian. These may be among the only surviving buildings of early Christianity that have not been entirely obliterated by time and can still be pointed out today.”

Laodicea. “Now, Laodicea is as devoid of inhabitants as its people were once devoid of fear and love for God, and as its Church lost all zeal for faith and virtue. This city—wretched even in its former wealth—miserable, poor, blind, and naked—did not heed God’s warnings and admonitions. For this, it has been wiped from the face of the earth. It is a complete desolation, home to nothing but wolves, jackals, and foxes. The only human figures that one may occasionally encounter here are wandering Turkomans, who pass through and pitch their tents for a time amid the vast ruins of the ancient amphitheater. The heart is overwhelmed with sorrow when one sees how empty and impoverished this place has become, where traces of ancient civilization and former abundance still remain; how over the graves of a once-thriving people now roams a new and ignorant nation; how the nomadic follower of Muhammad sets up his shifting tent over the tombs of the wise, standing in stark contrast to the ruins of elegant and majestic buildings. Yet what comfort and solace flood the soul when one considers that in all these traces of destruction, there are also the marks of the hand of the Almighty and Righteous God, who is as fearsome in His judgments and punishments as He is—infinitely more so—merciful and generous in His promises and rewards.”

We have deliberately arranged the descriptions of the present state of the cities of Asia Minor in order of increasing devastation. Applying the concept of “the one who restrains,” we may assume that the divine services of the churches of Pergamos and Thyatira did not possess the same restraining qualities as the Philadelphian Divine Service, while the services of the Ephesian, Sardian, and Laodicean churches had virtually no restraining power at all. The primary cause of such spiritual ruin is, evidently, the distortion of divine services due to heresies, as is stated in the messages to these churches (Rev. 2–3).

Another important conclusion naturally follows. The unity of the churches, as professed in the Orthodox Creed (“I believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church”), is possible only on the basis of truth—on the preservation of the word of God, which is also embodied in the perfect Philadelphian Divine Service. Thus, in an organizational sense, the true Church of Christ can only be a single church, and it must be the one with the Philadelphian Divine Service. There cannot be two independent and unconnected Churches of Christ that are not in prayerful communion with each other. Any discussion of other churches can only refer to them as types.

It is worth noting that, despite the presence of heresies and a significantly distorted divine service, salvation in eternity is still possible within the Sardian church: “Thou hast a few names even in Sardis which have not defiled their garments; and they shall walk with Me in white: for they are worthy” (Rev. 3:4). This means that salvation is also possible in churches of the Pergamene, Thyatiran, and Ephesian types. However, salvation in churches that adhere to the Laodicean type of worship is fundamentally impossible.

This conclusion follows directly from Revelation. First and foremost, it is directed toward those who see only in black and white. But since shades do exist, it is reasonable and necessary to seek an explanation. It should be clarified from the outset that such an explanation remains a hypothesis, and it is by no means necessary for the Philadelphians, who are promised “the crown of life”—something seemingly connected with an eased path to salvation, even in the last days. The Philadelphians have a different calling; they must focus on how to attain this “crown of life” and on holding fast to what they have.

But for the believers of the other churches—those that are conditionally salvific, meaning salvific under specific conditions—it is of the utmost seriousness to contemplate their salvation. They may feel some measure of grace within their churches and hope to be saved, yet in reality, they are in error.

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