I know that I must choose my words carefully, and that when I speak on this subject it is as though I were walking through a minefield.
The matter is not simple, neither in its general atmosphere nor in the persons concerned. What makes it harder is that the discussion here is not about "others," but about my brethren in the one Body, the Body of Christ — that is, the Church.
For this reason I begin by saying that what I write is in no way an accusation of anyone, nor a condemnation of any of my brethren. It is rather an inward questioning, perhaps a cry of conscience.
More than that: what I set down is addressed to me before it is addressed to anyone else.
What I am trying to reflect upon is what we have lately seen in some of our parishes, especially on the occasion of the feast of the parish's patron — that feast which is meant to be a spiritual waypoint, an appointment for prayer and contemplation, and an opportunity to enter more deeply into the life of the patron whom we celebrate and whose intercession we ask.
But what we see — and I say this in all love and honesty — has become very far from the spirituality of the occasion.
Some feasts have come closer to noisy festivals than to ecclesial celebrations.
Concerts, bands, singers, fireworks, rising voices — and the competition is sometimes: who draws the bigger crowd? who puts on the stronger show? who "dazzles" more?
I do not say that joy is to be rejected. Never! Joy in Christ is a fruit of the Holy Spirit, and we believe that the Church is a place of joy and resurrection, not of sorrow and death.
But is this joy that we see truly of the evangelical kind?
Is it the joy that addresses the heart and nourishes the soul? Or a momentary, superficial joy that carries within it the seeds of amusement and distraction?
Do we celebrate the saint's feast because we truly want to imitate his life?
Do we attend the Divine Liturgy, or read his life, or teach our children that this feast is about a saint who loved Christ unto death?
Or do we celebrate because the occasion has become a "social event," an occasion for display, attraction and entertainment?
I do not have all the answers.
But within me there is a great question I cannot ignore: are we returning, without realising it, to a kind of new paganism?
A paganism in which stone idols are not worshipped, but rather "the idols of the age" — fame, noise, spectacle, outward success, and the beautifying of the façade?
The early Church celebrated the martyrs and the saints by offering the Divine Sacrifice upon their tombs.
The Liturgy was the axis of the feast.
Today, is the Divine Sacrifice still the centre? Or has it become an appendix to the festival?
And has the patron whose name we bear been pushed to the background, once the presence of the "stars" and "artists" overwhelms the spiritual content?
I say this not as a rejection of art, or music, or true joy, but as a call to discern things and to set priorities in order.
For what is built upon entertainment does not establish faith. And the empty content we serve our children, we shall be held to account for when they grow up upon a "festive religion" devoid of roots and truth.
Therefore, perhaps the time has come to reconsider.
Perhaps we can, in all love, rethink the timing and the nature of the celebrations that are held.
Can we separate the recreational and social activities from the liturgical feast?
Can we hold a festival at another time of year, without tying it to the patron's feast, and leave the feast its spiritual and ecclesial character?
Can we restore to the feast its meaning, instead of filling it with a noise that may delight for a moment yet bears no life?
The saints do not need festivals in order to be honoured.
They ask for repentant hearts, and souls that love Christ as they loved Him, and live as they lived.
And if we can celebrate them in this spirit, then only will the joy be a true joy, a joy in the Lord.