companies on the Vistula, would be the cross lifted high by a priest,
with his long hair streaming over his shoulders, or out upon the wind.
It would be just the same all through the long journeys: the sacred
_ikons_ were carried, the priest marched steadily along, or sat in the
railway carriages with the soldiers, and always with his cross. The
soldiers of course saluted their priests as they saluted their officers,
and for a time it was a little puzzling to decide how this salute should
be suitably returned in such a war as this. For a priest to raise his
hand to his cap did not seem to belong to his sacred office, and so it
was decided he should touch his cross instead. Quite apart from the
regular and official services, the priest would be always fulfilling his
part in bringing God home to his countrymen, until the very end when he
stood blessing them, as we have been told, as they rushed past him to
attack, many of them to return no more. There is something very
inspiring in the thought that the last earthly object many of them saw
as they rushed on to death was the Cross of Him Who had robbed death of
all its terrors, and brought Immortality to light.
One of my great reasons for looking to the Orthodox Church of Russia to
give us our first opportunity, in seeking to promote the larger unity of
Christendom, is, as I had occasion to say at a large public meeting in
London last year, that, like ourselves, they wish to have the New
Testament sense of the presence of CHRIST. I cannot use any other phrase
to express my meaning. It is to me the whole spirit of their worship,
not only at the Holy Communion, where one would expect it, but at all
the other services as well. Litanies form a very important part of their
worship, and as one hears that softly repeated "LORD, have mercy"
(_Gospodi pomilui_) again and again from the choir, it is as if they
were all conscious of speaking straight to their LORD with the feeling
that He is there Himself to grant their prayer. No other refrain that I
have ever heard has the same appealing note of real and moving faith.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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