THEOSISDimitri of Rostov
In the 130th year of his life, Seruch became the father of Nahor, along with other sons and daughters (Gen. 11:22-23). According to the account of Kedar, Seruch resided in the land of the Chaldeans in a city known as Ur. The term 'Ur' translates to 'fire’, as the city's inhabitants, who were idolaters, considered fire divine and maintained it perpetually; hence, the city was aptly named Ur. Some maintain that Seruch was the originator of idols and that idolatry began with him, but this assertion is inaccurate. Idolatry traces its roots back to King Nina of Assyria, as previously noted. As for Seruch, he was among the forefathers of Christ who embraced the idols created by the Gentiles, learning to craft and sell them for his livelihood, which sustained him and his family.
Read more (1188 words)
In creating idols, he began to honor them as the pagans did, leading his household astray, as he passed this trade on to his son Nahor, who in turn taught it to his son Pharr, the ancestor of Abraham. The Chaldeans worshipped fire as their deity, while the Egyptians idolized water, venerating it through an idol named Kanopos, which also lent its name to a city located in Egypt at the Nile's mouth. During Semiramis's reign, when the Assyrians, who were also Chaldeans, conquered Egypt, a controversy arose between the priests of the Chaldeans and Egyptians regarding their gods. The Chaldeans argued that their god of fire was the supreme deity, capable of consuming wooden and stone idols and melting metals like copper, silver, and gold. In response, the Egyptians constructed a large vessel resembling the idol Kanopos, perforating its body with small holes filled with wax and resin and subsequently filling the idol with water. When the Chaldeans attempted to demonstrate their god's might by setting the idol ablaze, the wax and resin swiftly melted, causing the water to pour out and extinguish the flames. Consequently, the Egyptians rejoiced, exclaiming, ‘Our god is greater than your god, for he has triumphed over your god!’ This humiliation befell the Chaldeans. In ancient times, insensible idols were worshipped by those ensnared in madness, but today, our sinful desires often serve as our own deities. Those ancient individuals sinned in ignorance, having not yet been illuminated by the truth; whereas we, enlightened by the light of holy faith, sin by gratifying our ordinary desires as if they were gods. Many were compelled to worship idols by the decrees of kings and oppressors, yet we willingly serve our sinful desires, acting as their slaves. ‘Whosoever committeth sin,’ Christ teaches in the Gospel, “is a slave to sin” (John 8:34). Alas, our wicked nature likens us to the ancient idolaters, deserving of similar torment, if not worse! For to know and willfully sin is a graver offense than to sin out of ignorance. Our sinful desires indeed appear as though they are idolized, as indicated by the words of the Apostle Paul: ‘For many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they are enemies of the cross of Christ: whose end is destruction, whose god is their belly’ (Phil. 3:18-19). He adds: ‘For they that are such serve not our Lord Jesus Christ, but their own belly’ (Rom. 16:18). But why does our belly become our god? Because we cater to it like a deity, often prioritizing it over the One true God. We do not strive for Jesus Christ through fasting, self-discipline, and abstaining but rather serve our flesh through eating, drinking, and indulgence. This understanding extends to all our sinful passions; if we become slaves to them, they become our gods. Blessed Jerome elucidates this through the Divine Law: ‘Thou shalt not have any other gods before me’ (Exodus 20:3), indicating that, for those whom the belly is a god, a new deity arises; thus, for each passion we harbor, we create a new god, striving after what we desire and toil for. Indulgence and drunkenness manifest as if Bacchus is their idol, anger as if Mars, lust akin to the shameless Venus, and an obsession with gold akin to the golden idol of Nebuchadnezzar, with ourselves, as active participants, likened to idolaters. St. Chrysostom articulately explains our moral idolatry, asserting: ‘Do not tell me that you do not worship the golden idol, but demonstrate to me through your actions that you do not follow its commands. Idolatry can take many forms: some regard Mammon as their lord, others worship the belly, while some pursue other overpowering desires. If you don't offer physical sacrifices, as the Hellenes did, you commit a graver sin by hardening your soul; you may not kneel before a statue, yet obediently obey the commands of the belly, gold, or passion. This is why the Hellenes are deemed despicable for deifying our passions, labeling lust as Aphrodite, rage as Ares, and drunkenness as Dionysius. You may not create idolatrous sculptures, but you eagerly submit to the same passions, defiling yourself by turning the members of Christ into instruments of inequity (1 Cor. 6:15). Thus, each sin we cultivate, each habitual vice, represents an idol within ourselves, while the sinful heart serves as a temple of idolatry. Idolatry is intimately tied to sin; a rejection of Christ permits sin to thrive in thoughts and wicked desires. Sacrificing to an idol reflects the indulgence in planned sins, resulting in the creation of an idolater bound to their sinful inclinations. Since such moral idolatry proliferates within us, it is appropriate to pursue a spiritual martyrdom, suffering in a way that does not involve bloodshed. Just as countless holy martyrs have shed their blood for Christ in times of idol worship and unbelief, contemporary Christians must also embody martyrdom for Christ's love, continually battling against their passions and dying to sin daily to remain resilient against sin's allure. As habitual sin resides within us as an idol, resisting sin represents a martyr's act of courage. The true tormentor is often our passionate nature, our wicked disposition, or temptation from the devil. Evil thoughts, which entice one towards sin, act as the agents of this torment. Multiple struggles arise in the form of contending with harmful thoughts, passions, and desires (Gal. 5:24), transforming a person into a spiritual martyr for Christ, attaining the crown of martyrdom despite not shedding blood. St. Chrysostom eloquently states regarding spiritual martyrdom: ‘One may ask: How can we emulate the martyrs if we do not face persecution? Indeed, while there may not be physical persecution today, we face a different kind of martyrdom. We may not combat in the same way, but we are tasked with securing our crowns; people do not oppress us, yet demons do, and the fiercest of adversaries, the devil, seeks to embitter our souls. While you may not encounter burning coals, you see the flames of desire igniting around you. They faced literal fire, yet you must tame the fire of desire; they fought beasts, while you must restrain anger as if it were a ferocious beast; they endured unbearable afflictions, and you must overcome troublesome thoughts originating from your heart; thus, you can follow in the footsteps of martyrs for Christ. ‘Our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places’ (Eph. 6:12). The desires of the flesh are likened to an unquenchable and everlasting fire, akin to a ravenous dog. Victory over it can be a continuous endeavor, for it relentlessly returns. While the fire possesses ferocity, the torment of the flesh proves stronger, and we will never experience a respite from this struggle while in this life; constancy in this fight is our call, as is the promise of the most radiant crown.’ Thus, St. Chrysostom reminds us that the mortification of sinful passions within us symbolizes a form of bloodless martyrdom.