man, not only loving mother and brothers and sisters, but having a wife and children about him. The Eastern Church takes its stand with the early Christians and the denial of earthly ties. Sometimes news is brought of father or mother or brethren to the wonderful Russian hermits such as Father Seraphim, but they coldly repel the tidings with Christ's words, "Whosoever doeth the will of God, the same is my brother and sister and mother."
Casting the wicked into the fire—this idea lingers in America, but it is dead in Russia and in England.
The confession of Peter, and the prophecy, "Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church," the Roman Church has necessarily taken to itself.
The Transfiguration on the mountain—the possessed about the foot of the mountain—is taken as an Eastern understanding of life. The light of transfiguration is the halo about the head of the hermit; the possessed below make the hurly-burly of the world whence the hermit made his escape. "The light of transfiguration," I heard Prince Trubetskoi say in a lecture at Moscow, "is the light of haloes, the light of Holy Russia, the light of friendship."
"Let us build three tabernacles" is, as I said, Western.
The West has believed Jesus in that He answered the question, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" by taking a little child and setting him in the midst of them.
The West has allowed its eyes to rest on the parable of the Talents, but the East has had more appreciation of "The first shall be last, and the last first."
The West has insisted on "Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's," but it has avoided the condemnation of the Pharisees; the Gospel of St. Matthew reveals itself as the gospel of the kingdom of heaven as opposed to "the world." But the West has sought to find "the world" holy. Western Christianity was started
