“O blessed Father Herman of Alaska, North Star of Christ’s Holy Church, the light of your
holy life and great deeds guides those who follow the Orthodox way. Together we lift high the Holy Cross you planted firmly in America…” (Troparion to St. Herman)
O my poor, brave wonderful Serb brothers and sisters. In little more than a decade you have lost to Muslims and atheists so much of your precious territories in Bosnia and Kosovo. My own nation duped by the crafty and relentless led the plunder of those lands via NATO. I thought of the Serbs as I read one of their great poets who died in 1991, Vasko Popa. He wrote about the sufferings of his homeland, but it’s far from a tale of tragedy and despair. Rather, it’s a poem of hope and trust in the inimitable patron saint of Serbia. It’s titled: St. Sava’s Journey. Here are the first lines:
He journeys over the dark land
With his staff he cuts the dark beyond him into four
Dark, yes, because the light of Christ is hidden by a generation of godless communism that had suppressed the true Orthodox faith of the people. But we perceive in the distance St. Sava traveling to and fro all across his beloved country, and he is blessing the land with his archpastoral staff. He cuts the dark beyond him into four. It means that he is forming an invisible cross over everything and everyone, just as he had during his days on the earth. Popa is crying out to all Serbs: Do not abandon hope. Do not trust in “princes, in sons of man” whether they call themselves communists or NATO. Hope does not come through human nature, but only in the God-man, Jesus Christ.
When I think of one saint who possesses all the credentials to fill the role of America’s patron, I stop at St. Herman of Alaska. Not just that he was the first to be canonized, but for the reasons that the Church chose to elevate him to that august rank. He came as a Russian in order to serve his countrymen, and then he realized the way they exploited and abused the Native Americans, so he turned to Russia’s monarch for aid in defense of the Alaskans. For our nation, so reluctant to recognize rank and titles customary in the Old World, St. Herman was never a cleric, always a layman. He epitomized the individual without weapons, titles, not even with a superior education or background to commend him—not anything more than the love for God and his fellow human beings of every race, color and background, and the faith that despite his own helplessness, God can perform miracles for those who believe in Him. Yes, he will serve quite well in fulfilling for Orthodox Americans what St. Dmitrios is for Greeks and St. Sergius is for Russians. But as for us who sing with such gusto about the Cross that “he planted firmly in America,” can we or will we water it, tend it, nurture it and make it grow?
We will need more than a patron. When I apply the thought to America, I pray not just for a patron saint—we have twelve canonized saints on our icons at present—but that at least we Orthodox Christians will grow to love and respect, even more believe in the spiritual power that our national saints are eager to put into force on our behalf. I’m not sure…do we really believe in the efficacy of prayer the way our spiritual ancestors did and still do elsewhere on earth? We say we do. We shout it all together each year at the Sunday of Orthodoxy vespers in most cities. But to believe in God is one thing. To believe in the Spirit of God within us and Jesus Christ here in America among us—-that’s a challenge.