I said in yesterday's post that heresy is cruel because it promises that which it cannot give. It promises life, depth of vision, wisdom and insight. But because it ultimately preaches another gospel it only brings foolishnes and inconsistency, blindness, and, ultimately, if unrepented, death.
We need not go into New Testament word studies and the origin and development of the word "heresy," important though this may be. It is true that the New Testament does not use "schism" and "heresy" in quite the same technical sense that quite quickly became the norm (second century). But the New Testament teaching, whatever the technical vocabulary, remains unchanged: heresy is "strange opinion which does not know the passion of Christ" (Ignatios) and is "another gospel than the one you received" (Paul). In short, heresy is that teaching which does not conform to the Gospel of Christ, the Gospel which has been handed down from the Apostles to the Church, preserved in the Scriptures, the Liturgies, and the Canons, and embodied in the lives and teachings of the Saints.
It matters not that proponents of heresy are well-meaning. Arius purportedly taught against Christ's divinity so as to preserve and protect God's Majesty and direct worship to Him alone. The intent might well have been sincere, but its effect was deadly: apart from the union of God and man in the person Jesus Christ, which is to say, apart from Christ's divinity, there is no salvation, no union with God.
This is precisely why the Church has been both careful to preserve the teaching of the Apostles, the Gospel once for all delivered to the Saints, and resistant to any new formulations of Christian dogma. Without the preservation of the only Gospel, there would be no Gospel to preach, and no deliverance from sin and death. But to allow new formulations of Christian dogma, without the whole Church testing them against the Gospel that has been received, is tantamount to accepting a new Gospel, and once again being kept bound to sin and death.
Furthermore, as is consitently taught by the Fathers, all heresy arises from private interpretation. An individual promotes a teaching that is (ultimately) found to be in contradiction to the Gospel, and gathers around him followers who are persuaded by his private interpretation. This is why, whether historically accurate or not, all the Church Fathers agree that Simon Magus (the Simon of the Book of Acts who saw the miraculous works of the Apostles and tried to purchase the power) is the father of all heretics. He, as an individual, interpreted the Gospel, as displayed in the mighty acts around him, in ways contrary to the Gospel itself. He tried to buy the Holy Spirit. Arius, centuries later, enshrined his private interpretation, with an even more powerful argument, and drew away from the Church and its Gospel many members and hierarchs.
Precisely because of the nature and effects of heresy, the Church has always been careful to maintain the Gospel as taught by the apostles. There has never been any development of doctrine, in terms of new insights and new understandings, since this would introduce into the Gospel something that had not been handed down from the Apostles. Rather, in response to heretics, the Church has been careful to correct these misinterpretations by "fencing in" as it were the vocabulary and terms used to speak about the Gospel. It's not, for example, that a new understanding of the Trinity was given to the Church in the fourth century, but rather that, through the Christological and Pneumatological heresies that had arisen, a more careful way of articulating the faith once for all delivered arose so as to preserve and protect that which had always been held.
In our day, primarily given our left-over modernist anti-traditionalism, we give too-immediate authority to anything "new," "insightful," and "interesting." If it's never been done or said before, it has our immediate rapt attention. This is a response completely at odds with how the Church has always handled innovations in doctrine. If a Church Father taught something "new, insightful, and bold" such teaching was resisted, even if originally misunderstood, until the Church could come to consensus about what had been taught. Furthermore, not everything taught by a Church Father was received as in conformity to the Gospel. St. Augustine's teaching on original sin was rejected by the Church, though it came to hold sway in the West. St. Gregory of Nyssa's teaching on universal salvation was rejected by Church council, though he remains a saint and his writings are studied and taught. But perhaps preeminently St. Gregory Palamas' teaching on hesychia was only received and accepted after his lifetime, when it was found to be in conformity with the Church's Gospel.
In our day, we are not so circumspect. We do not test first our "new insights" against the standard of the Gospel. We test them against the values of the world, against sectarian dogmas that were never received by the whole Church, and against our own private interpretations. This is an amazing hubris: that we, or our immediate forebears, are so much wiser than the Apostles and the Church Fathers, or of so much more sanctity of life that we deserve a new outpouring of revelation. But this is a hubris that is not the mind of Christ, who sought only to do and say what the Father willed. And it is, sincere and well-meaning thought it may be, a mindset that is damning.
And so the Church is assailed by many heresies. The result, because so many private interpretations are held up over the authority of Scripture and the received teaching of the Church, is confusion. But not merely confusion. Since heresy can only promote ignorance, foolishness, blindness and death, it is a thing to be avoided at all costs. We here who blog about religious matters everyday should take note: we play with divine fire. The matters with which we engage demand reverence and circumspection. To rush boldly in without careful discernment, to embrace new ideas without slow deliberation, is to potentially damn both ourselves and our hearers.
I am, after all, a very slow-witted and hard-hearted Christian. I need to take my admonition seriously to heart. If I have made any errors with regard to the Church's teaching and the clear witness of Scripture, I ask to be corrected, and I here state my willingness to immediately be conformed to the only Gospel. And I ask the forgiveness of my brothers and sisters for not more carefully handling that which we all take to be important.
Pray for me a sinner.
My task here is not to comment on the present situation within ECUSA as to the formation of a new confessing network, and whether faithful should stay within the denomination or leave for other ecclesial groups.
Nor is it my task to comment on the issues which have been the most recent catalyst for these developments, as to whether or not committed monogamous homosexual relationshps are permitted by Scripture and Tradition, nor whether one or another partner in such relationships are valid candidates for ordination or consecration.
Rather, I want to focus most specifically on the comments made by Episcopal Bishop J Neil Alexander on schism and heresy:
Schism breeds schism. It always has. I hold in mind the great wisdom of the ancient church: if you have to choose between heresy and schism, choose heresy. For heresy is, in the end, just an opinion, and opinions come and go. Schism tears the fabric of the Body of Christ and it is irreparable. For those deeply committed to the Body of Christ, breaking fellowship is never a faithful option.
First of all, I note that Alexander does not provide any references to the Fathers to back his claim. Presumably, then, this "wisdom of the ancient church" is so uncontroversial as to need no support. And if it is, indeed, so uncontroversial, then presumably such references are innumerable. We'll see about that.
Secondly, I want to give a tip of the hat to Athanasius for steering me in the right direction by giving me a good starting point for researching the Fathers on this. I freely use the citations he supplies in his post, as well as others I've come across.
So, what do the Fathers say about schism and heresy? Here's a not very exhaustive list:
St. Jerome
Heretics bring sentence upon themselves since they by their own choice withdraw from the Church, a withdrawal which, since they are aware of it, constitutes damnation. Between heresy and schism there is this difference: that heresy involves perverse doctrine, while schism separates one from the Church on account of disagreement with the bishop. Nevertheless, there is no schism which does not trump up a heresy to justify its departure from the Church. (Commentary on Titus 3:10–11).
St. Lactantius
It is, therefore, the Catholic Church alone which retains true worship. This is the fountain of truth; this, the domicile of faith; this, the temple of God. Whoever does not enter there or whoever does not go out from there, he is a stranger to the hope of life and salvation. . . . Because, however, all the various groups of heretics are confident that they are the Christians and think that theirs is the Catholic Church, let it be known that this is the true Church, in which there is confession and penance and which takes a health-promoting care of the sins and wounds to which the weak flesh is subject. (Divine Institutes 4:30:11–13).
St. Augustine
We believe also in the holy Church, that is, the Catholic Church. For heretics violate the faith itself by a false opinion about God; schismatics, however, withdraw from fraternal love by hostile separations, although they believe the same things we do. Consequently, neither heretics nor schismatics belong to the Catholic Church; not heretics, because the Church loves God; and not schismatics, because the Church loves neighbor. (Faith and the Creed 10:21).
The apostle Paul said, "As for a man that is a heretic, after admonishing him once or twice, have nothing more to do with him" [Titus 3:10]. But those who maintain their own opinion, however false and perverted, without obstinate ill will, especially those who have not originated the error of bold presumption, but have received it from parents who had been led astray and had lapsed...those who seek the truth with careful industry and are ready to be corrected when they have found it, are not to be rated among heretics. (Letters 43:1).
St. Ignatios of Antioch
Keep yourselves from those evil plants which Jesus Christ does not tend, because they are not the planting of the Father. Not that I have found any division among you, but exceeding purity. For as many as are of God and of Jesus Christ are also with the bishop. And as many as shall, in the exercise of repentance, return into the unity of the Church, these, too, shall belong to God, that they may live according to Jesus Christ. Do not err, my brethren. If any man follows him that makes a schism in the Church, he shall not inherit the kingdom of God. If any one walks according to a strange opinion, he agrees not with the passion [of Christ.].(Philadelphians 3)
St. Irenaeus of Lyons
He shall also judge those who give rise to schisms, who are destitute of the love of God, and who look to their own special advantage rather than to the unity of the Church; and who for trifling reasons, or any kind of reason which occurs to them, cut in pieces and divide the great and glorious body of Christ, and so far as in them lies, [positively] destroy it,--men who prate of peace while they give rise to war, and do in truth strain out a gnat, but swallow a camel. For no reformation of so great importance can be effected by them, as will compensate for the mischief arising from their schism. He shall also judge all those who are beyond the pale of the truth, that is, who are outside the Church; but he himself shall be judged by no one. For to him all things are consistent: he has a full faith in one God Almighty, of whom are all things; and in the Son of God, Jesus Christ our Lord, by whom are all things, and in the dispensations connected with Him, by means of which the Son of God became man; and a firm belief in the Spirit of God, who furnishes us with a knowledge of the truth, and has set forth the dispensations of the Father and the Son, in virtue of which He dwells with every generation of men, according to the will of the Father. (Against Heresies Bk 4 Ch 33.7)
St. Ambrose of Milan
The Lord then replies to the blasphemy of the Pharisees, and refuses to them the grace of His power, which consists in the remission of sins, because they asserted that His heavenly power rested on the help of the devil. And He affirms that they act with satanic spirit who divide the Church of God, so that He includes the heretics and schismatics of all times, to whom He denies forgiveness, for every other sin is concerned with single persons, this is a sin against all. For they alone wish to destroy the grace of Christ who rend asunder the members of the Church for which the Lord Jesus suffered, and the Holy Spirit was given us. (Concerning Repentance Bk 2 Ch 4.24)
Seeing, therefore, that men who agree not amongst themselves have all alike conspired against the Church of God, I shall call those whom I have to answer by the common name of heretics. For heresy, like some hydra of fable, hath waxed great from its wounds, and, being ofttimes lopped short, hath grown afresh, being appointed to find meet destruction in flames of fire. Or, like some dread and monstrous Scylla, divided into many shapes of unbelief, she displays, as a mask to her guile, the pretence of being a Christian sect, but those wretched men whom she finds tossed to and fro in the waves of her unhallowed strait, amid the wreckage of their faith, she, girt with beastly monsters, rends with the cruel fang of her blasphemous doctrine.
This monster's cavern, your sacred Majesty, thick laid, as seafaring men do say it is, with hidden lairs, and all the neighbourhood thereof, where the rocks of unbelief echo to the howling of her black dogs, we must pass by with ears in a manner stopped. For it is written: "Hedge thine ears about with thorns ;" and again: "Beware of dogs, beware of evil workers;" and yet again: "A man that is an heretic, avoid after the first reproof, knowing that such an one is fallen, and is in sin, being condemned of his own judgment." So then, like prudent pilots, let us set the sails of our faith for the course wherein we may pass by most safely, and again follow the coasts of the Scriptures. (Exposition of the Christian Faith Bk 1 Ch 6.46-47)
The Apostolic Constitutions
If therefore God inflicted punishment immediately on those that made a schism on account of their ambition, how much rather will He do it upon those who are the leaders of impious heresies! Will not He inflict severer punishment on those that blaspheme His providence or His creation? But do you, brethren, who are instructed out of the Scripture, take care not to make divisions in opinion, nor divisions in unity. For those who set up unlawful opinions are marks of perdition to the people. In like manner, do not you of the laity come near to such as advance doctrines contrary to the mind of God; nor be you partakers of their impiety. For says God: "Separate yourselves from (he midst of these men, lest you perish together with them." And again: "Depart from the midst of them, and separate yourselves, says the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing, and I will receive you." (Bk VI Sec II.4)
Be ye likewise contented with one baptism alone, that which is into the death of the Lord; not that which is conferred by wicked heretics, but that which is conferred by unblameable priests, "in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:" and let not that which comes from the ungodly be received by you, nor let that which is done by the godly be disannulled by a second. For as there is one God, one Christ, and one Comforter, and one death of the Lord in the body, so let that baptism which is unto Him be but one. . . .
Receive ye the penitent, for this is the will of God in Christ. Instruct the catechumens in the elements of religion, and then baptize them. Eschew the atheistical heretics, who are past repentance, and separate them from the faithful, and excommunicate them from the Church of God, and charge the faithful to abstain entirely from them, and not to partake with them either in sermons or prayers: for these are those that are enemies to the Church, and lay snares for it; who corrupt the flock, and defile the heritage of Christ, pretenders only to wisdom, and the vilest of men; concerning whom Solomon the wise said: "The wicked doers pretend to act piously." For, says he, "there is a way which seemeth right to some, but the ends thereof look to the bottom of hell." These are they concerning whom the Lord declared His mind with bitterness and severity, saying that "they are false Christs and false teachers;" who have blasphemed the Spirit of grace, and done despite to the gift they had from Him after the grace of baptism, "to whom forgiveness shall not be granted, neither in this world nor in that which is to come;" who are both more wicked than the Jews and more atheistical than the Gentiles; who blaspheme the God over all, and tread under foot His Son, and do despite to the doctrine of the Spirit; who deny the words of God, or pretend hypocritically to receive them, to the affronting of God, and the deceiving of those that come among them; who abuse the Holy Scriptures, and as for righteousness, they do not so much as know what it is; who spoil the Church of God, as the "little foxes do the vineyard;" whom we exhort you to avoid, lest you lay traps for your own souls. (Bk VI Sec III.15, 18)
Do you therefore, O bishops, and ye of the laity, avoid all heretics who abuse the law and the prophets. For they are enemies to God Almighty, and disobey Him, and do not confess Christ to be the Son of God. For they also deny His generation according to the flesh; they are ashamed of the cross; they abuse His passion and His death; they know not His resurrection; they take away His generation before all ages. Nay, some of them are impious after another manner, imagining the Lord to be a mere man, supposing Him to consist of a soul and body. But others of them suppose that Jesus Himself is the God over all, and glorify Him as His own Father, and suppose Him to be both the Son and the Comforter; than which doctrines what can be more detestable? (Bk VI Sec. V.26)
Let a bishop, or presbyter, or deacon who only prays with heretics, be suspended; but if he also permit them to perform any part of the office of a clergyman, let him be deprived.
We command that a bishop, or presbyter, or deacon who receives the baptism, or the sacrifice of heretics, be deprived: "For what agreement is there between Christ and Belial? or what part hath a believer with an infidel?" . . .
If any one, either of the clergy or laity, enters into a synagogue of the Jews or heretics to pray, let him be deprived and suspended. . . .
If any bishop, or presbyter, or deacon, receives a second ordination from any one, let him be deprived, and the person who ordained him, unless he can show that his former ordination was from the heretics; for those that are either baptized or ordained by such as these, can be neither Christians nor clergymen. (Bk VIII Sec. V.45-46, 65, 68)
St. Basil the Great
. . . . The old authorities decided to accept that baptism which in nowise errs from the faith. Thus they used the names of heresies, of schisms, and of unlawful congregations. By heresies they meant men who were altogether broken off and alienated in matters relating to the actual faith; by schisms men who had separated for some ecclesiastical reasons and questions capable of mutual solution; by unlawful congregations gatherings held by disorderly presbyters or bishops or by uninstructed laymen. As, for instance, if a man be convicted of crime, and prohibited from discharging ministerial functions, and then refuses to submit to the canons, but arrogates to himself episcopal and ministerial rights, and persons leave the Catholic Church and join him, this is unlawful assembly. To disagree with members of the Church about repentance, is schism. Instances of heresy are those of the Manichaeans, of the Valentinians, of the Marcionites, and of these Pepuzenes; for with them there comes in at once their disagreement concerning the actual faith in God. So it seemed good to the ancient authorities to reject the baptism of heretics altogether, but to admit that of schismatics, on the ground that they still belonged to the Church. (Letter CLXXXVIII.1)
St. Cyprian of Carthage
But, beloved brethren, not only must we beware of what is open and manifest, but also of what deceives by the craft of subtle fraud. And what can be more crafty, or what more subtle, than for this enemy, detected and cast down by the advent of Christ, after light has come to the nations, and saving rays have shone for the preservation of men, that the deaf might receive the hearing of spiritual grace, the blind might open their eyes to God, the weak might grow strong again with eternal health, the lame might run to the church, the dumb might pray with clear voices and prayers--seeing his idols forsaken, and his lanes and his temples deserted by the numerous concourse of believers--to devise a new fraud, and under the very title of the Christian name to deceive the incautious? He has invented heresies and schisms, whereby he might subvert the faith, might corrupt the truth, might divide the unity. Those whom he cannot keep in the darkness of the old way, he circumvents and deceives by the error of a new way. He snatches men from the Church itself; and while they seem to themselves to have already approached to the light, and to have escaped the night of the world, he pours over them again, in their unconsciousness, new darkness; so that, although they do not stand firm with the Gospel of Christ, and with the observation and law of Christ, they still call themselves Christians, and, walking in darkness, they think that they have the light, while the adversary is flattering and deceiving, who, according to the apostle's word, transforms himself into an angel of light, and equips his ministers as if they were the ministers of righteousness, who maintain night instead of day, death for salvation, despair under the offer of hope, perfidy under the pretext of faith, antichrist under the name of Christ; so that, while they feign things like the truth, they make void the truth by their subtlety. This happens, beloved brethren, so long as we do not return to the source of truth, as we do not seek the head nor keep the teaching of the heavenly Master. (On the Unity of the Church 3)
St. Cyril of Jerusalem
For the godless system of the heresies is a road with many branches, and whenever a man has strayed from the one straight way, then he falls down precipices again and again. (Catechetical Lectures VI.13)
Episcopal Bishop Alexander says schism is a bad thing. Well and good. But heresy is not some benign opinion. The Church Fathers thought heresy a dangerous, damning thing. It may have been merely an opinion, but unrepentant heresy kept one out of the Church, away from the Sacraments, and cut off from the Life Christ gives. As another Episcopal Bishop has noted, heresy is cruel, because it promises that which it cannot give.
In short, when it comes to schism and heresy, there is no choice. Christians are to avoid both. Because both bring death and destruction.
So. My stepgrandfather, Wilbur Yelton, died Monday. He was 83 years old. He'd been sick for some time, and at a checkup in February, the doctors told him to put his affairs in order.
I didn't know Wilbur all that well. He and my grandmother married four months after my wife, Anna, and I left Kansas for Illinois to continue our education. Being anywhere from nine to twelve hours' drive away from home in the ensuing decade did not make for frequent travel home for Anna and I, and when we did come home it was to see our immediate family in Kansas and Oklahoma. My grandmother, Christine, had moved to Arkansas shortly after my grandfather, Clifton F. Healy, died, so aside from cards and letters in the mail, and some phone calls, we didn't see Grandma and Wilbur very often.
But the funeral clued me in on some things. Wilbur was a dedicated (elder) brother in Christ, serving tirelessly at the nursing home services his church, First Baptist, conducted. But more than just wheeling residents out from their rooms to the worship service, Wilbur would also wheel them back and then sit visiting with them some time after the services were over. Wilbur tithed to the church, both in regular offerings and in his will. And time and time again, though hurt and taken advantage of by certain of his family, he forgave them, both in offense and in debt. In short, Wilbur, in true Christian fashion, was a man of God, whose deeds were not done for the praise of men, but for his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
I learned that though my grandmother is eighty-three, her young woman's heart could still get broken. She recounted to me the days of her and Wilbur's courtship, and that after some time they had begun to speak of marriage. Then, inexplicably, Wilbur got cold feet. Grandma hadn't seen it coming. Of course, things worked out, and she and Wilbur talked it out and later married. At the time, Grandma was in her early seventies. Yet here she was recounting tales of romance as though she were a young woman in her twenties again.
I learned that my dad had been closer to Wilbur than I had thought. I had remained relatively untouched by any strong emotions, though saddened for Grandma and Wilbur's family, up through most of the funeral service. At the the final viewing before heading to the gravesite, I went to the casket and committed Wilbur to God's care, and prayed silently for the repose of his soul. But when Dad returned to his seat after his viewing, he broke briefly into sobs. That's when I, too, briefly lost it.
I learned that when it comes time to die it's best to do so in a small town community among family and friends. As is traditional, the church put on a funeral dinner after everyone returned from the committal. I loved that when I pastored a small church in central Illinois. And it was like coming home to be surrounded by family and church friends as we broke bread together and reminisced. There's nothing like a church potluck to aid one's grief.
And finally I learned that Southern Baptist ministers still preach evangelistic sermons at funerals. And I learned, surprisingly, that that did not offend me at all. After all, Wilbur's life was one long Gospel telling.
May his memory be eternal.
When I became a Christian I voluntarily crucified my mind, and all the crosses that I bear have been only a source of joy for me. I have lost nothing and gained everything.
--Father Seraphim Rose (Cathy Scott, Seraphim Rose: The True Story and Private Letters, p. 191)
Orthodoxy is life. If we don't live Orthodoxy, we simply are not Orthodox, no matter what formal beliefs we hold.
--Father Seraphim Rose (Cathy Scott, Seraphim Rose: The True Story and Private Letters, p. 231)
For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ . . . (2 Cor. 10:3-5 ESV)
I have had encounters with Father Seraphim on two occasions, now, at the Barnes and Noble in Evantson.
My first encounter was entirely by "accident." It was 30 May last year, and I had gone to see the movie "X2: X-men United" in the early afternoon. After the movie I had had about an hour to kill till Anna left work to pick me up. I had originally decided to just cross the street and head into Borders for some coffee and to do some reading. For some reason, however, I thought I'd head to the library. But while on the way, I decided it would be too far to walk to the library and back, so Barnes and Noble happened to be on the way and I ended up stopping there and browsing. I had no desire to buy any books, nor did I even have any books in mind that I was really wanting to get. But as it happened, while browsing in the Christian section I happened upon the out of print original edition of Father Seraphim Rose's biography, Not of This World. I was stopped in my tracks.
I should at this point tell how St. Benedict came to be my patron. While I was still in Bible college, and only just beginning my journey to historic Christianity, I happened to be on a short trip to one of our sister colleges and seminaries in Lincoln, Illinois. I'd already done some reading about St. Benedict through my then-new interest in monasticism, and had read some snippets from St. Benedict's Rule. While in the college bookstore--a conservative evangelical bookstore, mind you--I happened to notice a copy of the Rule. I bought it without a second thought. It was, at the very least, a serendipitous moment. And although I then had no concept of what a patron saint was, I began to have an affinity of sorts with St. Benedict, his rule, and monasticism.
So, there I was last year in Barnes and Noble having an almost identical encounter, some thirteen years later. Although I had not yet considered Father Seraphim Rose my patron saint--that spot had long been held by St. Benedict--this "chance" encounter was so similar to how St. Benedict "found" me, that I took it as an indication another saint had "picked" me.
Needless to say, I purchased the book and soon thereafter began asking for the intercessions of Father Seraphim along with St. Benedict. The more I learned about Father Seraphim, the more convinced I became of his sanctity.
So, the new biography came out in the fall, and I purchased it. Shortly thereafter, I acquired Nihilism and Genesis, Creation, and Early Man, and of course I had several months before read other of Father Seraphim's writings. Then I picked up a copy of Letters from Father Seraphim. The only remaining book that I had thought I wanted to get was Cathy Scott's biography, Seraphim Rose: The True Story and Private Letters.
Which brings me to yesterday, and my second encounter with Father Seraphim. I had ordered the Cathy Scott book through Barnes and Noble, so this was to be a planned meeting. While I was waiting for the shuttle to take me to Loyola to teach, Barnes and Noble called. My book was in. I hot-footed it to the store, and picked up the book.
I'm not a big fan of Barnes and Noble (they crowded out the local college bookstore at Loyola, earning my continuing disrespect), but since I've encountered Father Seraphim there twice in less than a year, I need to remember and be grateful.
Theology is the word of God, which is apprehended by pure, humble and spiritually regenerated souls, and not the beautiful words of the mind, which are crafted with literary art and expressed by the legal or worldly spirit. . . .
Theology that is taught like a science usually examines things historically and, consequently, things are understood externally. Since patristic ascesis and inner experience are absent, this kind of theology is full of uncertainty and questions. For with the mind one cannot grasp the Divine Energies if he does not first practice ascesis and live the Divine Energies, that the Grace of God might be energized within him.
Whoever thinks that he can come to know the mysteries of God through external scientific theory, resembles the fool who wants to see Paradise through a telescope.
Those who struggle patristically become empirical theologians through the visitation of the Grace of the Holy Spirit. All those who have an external education, in addition to the internal enlightenment of the soul, may describe the divine mysteries and interpret them correctly, as did many Holy Fathers.
If, however, one does not become spiritually related to the Holy Fathers and wants to take up translating or writing, he will wrong both the Holy Fathers and himself, as well as the people, with his spiritual cloudiness.
Neither is it right for someone to theologize using someone else's theology, because he will resemble an impotent man who adopts others' children, presents them as his own and pretends to be the father of a large family. The Holy Fathers took the divine word or personal experiences from their hearts: the result of spiritual battles against evil and the fire of temptations, which they confessed humbly, or, out of love, wrote down in order to help us. . . .
Those who are grateful towards God for everything and constantly attend to themselves humbly and look after God's creatures and creation with kindness, theologize and thus become the most faithful theologians, even if illiterate. They are like the illiterate shepherds who observe the weather in the countryside, day and night, and become good meteorologists.
--The Orthodox Word [2003], no. 229, pp. 86-88
Down the left column of this blog, I have a quote from St. Theophan the Recluse's The Path to Salvation, which gives a rule for reading. Since the print is somewhat small, I'll copy a portion of it here:
The best time for reading the Word of God is in the morning. Lives of saints after the mid-day meal, and Holy Fathers before going to sleep. Thus you can take up a little bit each day.
I have noticed something in the last several months. It began with my reading the revised biography of Father Seraphim Rose. When I was reading his biography I was almost always eager to arise early to pray. I was often motivated to pray the Akathist to the Mother of God. I was better able to focus on humility of heart and mind (though I can't say I ever successfully achieved it).
Similarly, as I've been reading the life of Elder Ambrose of Optina--he on whom Dostoyevsky based his character Father Zossima in The Brothers Karamazov--I have found myself more focused on prayer. In fact, I read just yesterday the following from Elder Ambrose of Optina:
When people complained to the Elder that unrelated thoughts disturb their prayer, he said: "A man rides through the market; around him is a crowd of people, conversations, noise. But he just sits on his horse--gee-up, gee-up! and little by little he passes through the whole marketplace. Let it be the same with you---no matter what the thoughts say, just keep at your business--pray!" (256-257)
And so today, as I was almost constantly distracted by wandering thoughts during morning prayers, I just kept returning to the prayer I was praying.
And yesterday my book order from Lignt -N- Life Publishing came in. Items: Hapgood's Service Book, St. Ignatius Brianchaninov's The Arena, and three biographies of St. John (Maximovitch) the Wonderworker of Shanghai and San Francisco (Blessed John the Wonderworker, Man of God, and the small booklet St John the Wonderworker). [By the way, The Arena was a bit too ambitious. I didn't realize it was intended for monastics, but just knew it as a spiritual classic. It will have to wait till I'm ready for it.]
I have recently been exhorted to read the contemporary Fathers, in addition to the ancient Church Fathers, because these more recent Fathers speak to a world similar to our own, putting the teachings of the Holy Fathers in language and concepts which are more graspable for us. This is also true of the lives of contemporary saints. The lives of the saints of the ancient Church are edifying, but seem so much more remote to us today. On the other hand, the lives of modern saints, being more near to us in time, exhort us with a special practicality and urgency. Lives of holiness are not merely ancient tales of other times and places, but are realities now. Father Seraphim, St John the Wonderworker, the Elder Ambrose of Optina, Elder Paisios the New of Mount Athos, all these present-day witnesses of the life of Faith proclaim to us the Gospel, call us to repentance, and show us how it is that theosis is a way of life and not "merely" a doctrine.
In my own experience, while I am edified by the earlier Fathers, especially the life of St. Benedict, and the martyrdoms of St. Ignatios of Antioch, St. Polycarp, St. Perpetua, and the life of St. Mary of Egypt, the lives of the contemporary Fathers provide me with a desire to pray and to struggle that I don't get--or at least not in the same way--from the ancient Fathers. Just skimming over some of the pages of the books on St. John the Wonderworker, I knew clearly that I would rise early today and pray with a special clarity--even if still distracted by wandering thoughts. And that is, indeed, what happened this morning. Praise the Lord.
So, given the dark inertia I have lived in the first half of Lent, I will make sure to read from the lives of the saints daily in this second half, as I struggle with my brothers and sisters here in the desert.
[A]lthough we must not despair of the possibility for our conversion and salvation no matter how weak [because previously ignored] is the call for conversion to a virtuous life, we must always think timidly and fearfully of our weak condition. Might we have sunk so far that we have reached the final opportunity to receive a grace-filled awakening? Could we have barred all inroads that divine grace, ever desiring our salvation, might take to act upon us? Is this the last time that grace may be drawing nigh unto us with the aim of bringing us to our senses and putting a stop to our disgraceful condition? Thus, as weak as such a call may be, we must ever more speedily rush to make use of it with all firmness of intention, though this may require more discernment, and intensify it to the fullest extent of human freedom. Obviously, such intensification is nothing other than the opening up of ourselves to this seeking and sought-for grace. We must open up, for through our falls we have become more and more hardened and closed to grace, in first one and then another respect.
--The Path to Salvation, p. 125
As everyone pretty well knows, trademarks exist to guard the rights of the trademark holder and to ensure the consumer that the article with said trademark is, indeed, authentic. Trademarks exist to eliminate confusion. When Anna and I moved to Illinois more than ten years ago, one of the then-recent news stories in Wichita was about some vendors selling knock-off Gucci, Dooney & Burke and Coach purses. These knock-offs looked an awful lot like the real thing, but they lacked the trademark, that is to say, the genuine characteristics necessary to authenticate themselves. The vendors were busted, of course. But not before they had sold these items literally right across the street from Towne East Mall wherein lay the then-upscale Dillards, itself an purveyor of authentic Gucci, Dooney & Burke and Coach purses.
With all the claims and counterclaims by Christians being thrown about in the media with regard to issues like gay marriage, not to mention the Current Unpleasantness® going on the ECUSA, and so forth, one begins to wonder which voice is the authentic voice of Christianity? A lot of people are claiming to be "the real Christians" preaching "the real Gospel" but how is one to know? Who are the knockoffs and who are the genuine articles?
There are a plethora of ways to resolve the issue, of course. But that's just the problem. There are so many disagreements, so much contradiction between various groups (even within the very same denominations), that it seems impossible to arbitrate between them. After all, to arbitrate one would have to have a viewpoint that could authoritatively comment on these disparate views, a viewpoint that, to be objective, would have to stand outside of the viewpoints expressed. But who has that "objective" view? To be truly objective, wouldn't it mean that the arbitrator is outside Christianity altogether? But wouldn't that only bring in a whole truckload of other biases?
Perhaps I'm going about it wrong here. Perhaps it's not so much a matter of external objectivity here that's needed. Perhaps it's more a matter of finding the point of bedrock agreement. Although one cannot say that Christians have a unified view of who Jesus is--which seems strange to say, but then again, that is the current reality--one can at least say that Christianity gets its name from Christ, and that therefore he was/is a central figure for Christians. So perhaps it would be better to find the one foundational point of agreement.
Let me be clear: I'm not talking about the lowest common denominator. I'm not talking about the one item, or two, or handful, of items on which all Christians can agree. That approach has already proven bankrupt and useless. Rather, I'm talking about finding the bedrock, foundational doctrine(s), Scripture(s), Church Liturgy(-ies), and Canon(s) upon which one can say, "This, at least, is essential Christianity." I full well realize that since this approach is oriented around foundations, that there is bound to be significant, irreconcilable differences among those now claiming the name of Christ. And in fact, I realize that what this will mean is that some of those who now claim the name of Christ will, by their refusal to accept these foundation stones, be left outside of the named circle that accepts the foundations. To say it plainly: Some who now claim to be Christians will be found not to be so. But that's the nature of a trademark: it reveals the genuine over against the knockoff.
But in our current state of tens of thousands of denominations and non-denominational groups, with all the disparity in teaching and practice among the billions of Christians worldwide, where does one start? Papal primacy seems to be a non-starter; Protestants and Orthodox won't accept that. Sola scriptura seems to be a non-starter; Roman Catholics and Orthodox will deny that it is even possible to understand Scripture in isolation from the consensus of Church dogma. Orthodoxy's claim to uniquely be the Church will similarly not be accepted by Roman Catholics and Protestants. So what is one to do?
Where in the world can we find a ChristianityTM by which we can judge, discern, and evaluate that which is authentically ChristianTM and that which is merely a knockoff?
It seems to me that a modest, and completely unoriginal (on my part) proposal would be simply this: When did the Church have the greatest consensus on Church dogma, Liturgy, Scriptural interpretation and Canon law? I'm not asking when there was one hundred percent perfect agreement. But rather, when was there the greatest amount of consensus, such that a Christian from Milan could be transplanted to, say, Antioch, and affirm, "Yep. This is the real stuff!"?
The answer here seems clear: Prior to the Great Schism. Or, to say it more precisely, the era of the Seven Ecumenical Councils. Yes, I recognize that this is not a perfectly seamless answer which eliminates all problems. What does one do about the Oriental Orthodox Churches and the Monophysite scandal? What does one do, for some in the West, with the Fifth and subsequent councils? But again, what I am talking about here is the greatest amount of consensus.
Take, by way of example and point, the biblical council at Jerusalem. The Church came to consensus. Everyone accepted the decision of the council. Was there still some variation in practice between Christians oriented around our Jewish heritage and some who were oriented around the new work among the Gentiles? Of course. Was there consensus in belief and practice? Absolutely.
So, what's the Christian trademark? The Old and New Testament canons, given us by the first Ecumenical Council. The Creed given us by the same council. The dogma of Christ given us by Nicea, Ephesus, Constantinople and Chalcedon. The Liturgies given us by the fourth century Church and by Gregory, Pope of Rome. The canons of the seven Councils. The deposit of the Faith given us by the Apostles, preserved in the Scriptures, and faithfully interpreted by the Christians of the seven Councils. In short, trademark ChristianityTM is the Christianity of the first millennium.
No matter whether you're Protestant, Roman Catholic or Orthodox, the core beliefs you hold you hold because of these ChristiansTM. It's true that many Christians have departed from this first millennium FaithTM, but one needs to ask, are the departures and accretions authentic or knockoffs? One can only answer that question by referring back to the original.
So when it comes to present-day questions about gay bishops, same sex marriage, abortion, cloning, divorce, and the whole host of matters plaguing our national consciousness, when it comes to the ChristianTM voice, it seems to me germane to ask: Does it match the first millennium Church and it's faith and practice? If it does, it's ChristianityTM. If it doesn't, it's a knockoff.
[Note: This series of post--up to this entry--is available in a singl html documenter here. Subsequent entries (above) may be incorporated in a future revision.]
3. Orthodox Encounters June 2002 to the Present (Final Part . . . for now)
The summer of 2003 was marked by one thing and one thing alone: the anticipation of Sofie's birth, followed by its fulfillment. Of course, I still attended All Saints, this time more faithfully and regularly than before. Anna's protests were much more muted and infrequent. Our discussions about Orthodoxy, and All Saints, were much more open and honest. They were discussions, rather than the repetition of entrenched positions.
Though unsurprising, the actions of the Episcopal Church's General Convention--the ratification of the election of a divorced man in an open homosexual relationship, and the official permission to conduct same sex unions--brought into sharp focus the distinctions which the Orthodox Church offered. This was especially vital in relation to not merely the Episcopal Church but nearly all of the churches about which we had inquired or had visited.
Finally, 14 August came and Sofie was born. It was among the two or three most transformative experiences I'd been through in my entire life. Anna graciously acquiesced to my request for Father Patrick to come and say a prayer of blessing over Sofie. So, the next day, before Sofie was a full twenty-four hours old, Father Patrick and Khouria Denise arrived, with a beautiful gift of a pink dress, to pray over Sofie and share our joy.
For the next several weeks, I urged Anna to go with me to All Saints, trying to balance my desire to bring Sofie to church so as to stand before the icon of the Theotokos and offer my thanks, and trying also to not push Anna beyond where she was willing to go. I continued to go to All Saints, however, and Anna did not any longer give voice to her objections.
Then came September, the month when things turned the corner for the Healy household.
The Saturday before my birthday, the three of us had been running errands and were on the way back home. Out of nowhere, and a propos of nothing, Anna said, "We should make All Saints our regular church home." I voiced a humble agreement, but wisely refrained from saying much else.
Sunday morning came, my thirty-sixth birthday, and, silently rejoicing within, the Healy's got ready for worship, piled into the car and headed to All Saints.
I wrote about it at the time:
Today, my wife, Anna, and our daughter, Sofie, worshipped together at All Saints Orthodox Church. For Anna, it was her third worship at All Saints (her fourth Divine Liturgy all told). For Sofie, it was the first time she worshipped with her mommy and daddy at the Divine Liturgy. It was positively the best birthday present I could have ever received.
Sofie slept peacefully through the first part of the service. Then during the Litany prayed with the Procession of the Bread and the Wine, she took part in the blessing of the children. It is the custom at All Saints for Father Patrick to place the Chalice over the heads of all the children, one at a time, and pray "May the Lord our God remember you in His Kingdom, always, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen." Sofie woke then, as we took her slumbering self from the car seat, so that I could hold her for Father Patrick's blessing. Anna then took her down to the nursery to feed her. Sofie continued to sleep through the rest of the service.
Then, when the parishioners went to commune the Holy Gifts, I took Sofie from Anna and headed forward to receive the blessing. It wasn't until just before I stood in front of Father Patrick that I realized Anna had slipped out of the pew and followed behind me. Anna's never done that before. So there we were, a family, each one at a time receiving from God's priest the merciful blessings of our Lord.
Since that first Sunday, Anna has held true to her word, and we have, indeed, settled into being as much a part of parish life as we can as non-Orthodox. Anna has involved herself in the mothers and babies group. She makes sure we give donations to various church projects. I am currently involved with the men's reading group. Especially as Great Lent has come and we've been to more services, she has asked more and more questions. She's asked about confession, praying to the Saints, icons, why we can't receive Holy Communion, the fasts of the Church, and other matters. I'm not sure how helpful my answers are, though I am fulfilling my God-ordained role in answering them.
Knowing that I want Sofie baptized in the Orthodox Church, Anna asked me if we could have her baptized if we weren't Orthodox. I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that, but told her I'd ask Father. He, of course, said no, that at least one of us would have to become Orthodox, but that he would rather the whole family become Orthodox together. I'm not sure how she felt about his answer, because she didn't say, and I chose not to press the matter. But I think it was the sort of answer she wanted to hear.
Anna's even encouraged me to ask Father Patrick for Orthodox clergy referrals for her brother Delane in the hospital in Pittsburgh. And in asking her brother if he'd mind a visit by an Orthodox priest, it was somewhat surprising, and deeply gratifying, to hear her speak in glowing terms about All Saints and Orthodoxy.
Is Anna ready to become Orthodox? I hardly think so. Is she at all even interested in becoming Orthodox? I still have some doubts on the matter. She is duly impressed with the parish of All Saints and Father Patrick and his wife. But I do not yet see that she has any interest in Orthodoxy per se.
I, of course, am impatient. I have wanted to become Orthodox for some time now. But I do not want to do so in ways that will drive a wedge within our family. Nor do I think I am yet called to go it alone into Orthodoxy. So, I continue to wait. I continue to pray to the Holy Trinity and to ask the intercessions of the Theotokos.
And perhaps more than I did even a year ago, I have more tangible hope that these prayers I have prayed for what seems like ages now will one day come to fruition.
Till then, this is only the beginning.
In a USAToday article from more than a year ago, the "common sense" notion in our throw away society is proven empirically false:
Divorce doesn't necessarily make adults happy. But toughing it out in an unhappy marriage until it turns around just might, a new study says.
The research identified happy and unhappy spouses, culled from a national database. Of the unhappy partners who divorced, about half were happy five years later. But unhappy spouses who stuck it out often did better. About two-thirds were happy five years later. . . .
''In popular discussion, in scholarly literature, the assumption has always been that if a marriage is unhappy, if you get a divorce, it is likely you will be happier than if you stayed married,'' Blankenhorn says. ''This is the first time this has been tested empirically, and there is no evidence to support this assumption.''
About 19% of the divorced had happily remarried within five years.
The most troubled marriages reported the biggest turn-arounds. Of the most discontented, about 80% were happy five years later, says Linda Waite, a University of Chicago sociologist who headed the research team.
The study can be found here.
3. Orthodox Encounters June 2002 to the Present (Part F)
I have, to this point, lingered quite a bit over the half-year period from June to December 2002. This has mainly been because this was perhaps the most important several months yet in my inquiry about Orthodoxy. During this time I had settled important questions in my mind regarding the biblical nature of the place of Tradition, of bishops, of the tranformation of the Eucharistic elements, and of the implications in terms of salvation and sanctification, of visible unity and historic continuity, resulting from the Church's being the Body of Christ. I had "discovered" the reality and aid of the intercessions of the saints on our behalf, particularly of the Theotokos. And I had become a (soon-to-be) father. Mind, worship, heart and family had been radically re-formed in just over two hundred days.
The living into that reality, however, even now has only barely just begun.
Despite my best efforts to care for my wife's spiritual needs as well as to heed the very clear call from God to prioritize faith and discipleship, I frequently failed to accomplish much of either. On 9 February 2003, I was back at All Saints again. And once again, I was confronted with another "St. Anthony moment." This time it was the Matins Gospel, John 21:15-25. Here I was Peter, being asked of Christ, "Do you love me more than these?"
I was not being called to trample on my wife's sensibilities. I was not called to "go it alone" into the Orthodox Church. But I was called to put Christ first, to focus my heart and mind on his will, and not worry myself about the interim details.
At this time there was no indications that the standoff, of sorts, that existed between Anna and I regarding the Orthodox Church was anywhere near resolution or further compromise. I could understand Anna's frustration. From where she was at, there was no decent church which we could attend--without driving all the way out to the suburbs. She would do some research and come up with some names of congregations. But when I investigated further we found problems. Of the, to me, more minor sort: a worship style that did not suit Anna's preferences (though, clearly, this was--and is--a major issue for Anna); a staff that did not return phone calls or emails of potential visitors. Of the more major variety: serious questions regarding particular churches' teachings on faith and morality. It seemed the wider we cast our net, the more deeply we looked into a specific congregation, the more trouble we found.
In my own experience, the only acceptable parish--in terms of doctrinal and moral teaching alone--was All Saints parish. And that, of course, was probelmatic for Anna.
So, I continued, as often as I could and maintain homestead harmony, to return to All Saints. The start of Great Lent, in March 2003, was extremely powerful for me. I participated in my first Forgiveness Vespers. I prayed, for the first time, the Great Canon of St. Andrew. And I experienced my first Pre-Sanctified Liturgy. In fact, it was at that last that I also for the first time had both the understanding as well as something of the experience of the presence of the saints with us as we worship God.
But with Anna's brother, Delane, in the hospital, and our visits there to see him, with the demands of being a full-time student, teaching two classes at two different colleges, and working half-time, the rest of Lent quickly passed. I was busy, distracted and torn in many directions.
Pascha came, and one other first was added to my experience of Orthodoxy. Cognizant of my Lenten failures, when St. John Chrysostom called even me, one who had not kept the fast, who had not lived faithfully, to the Feast, I nearly wept. It was, by far, the single most powerful worship service in which I had ever participated.
For some months, it had been my practice, after praying Morning Prayers on Saturday mornings, to immediately pray the rosary. After Pascha, in mid-May, on a Saturday--as it happened, the one preceding Mother's Day, though the consciousness of that does not yet enter the story--I prayed the rosary and asked the intercessions of the Theotokos. The one request I made specifically while praying the rosary was that Anna would see fit to accompany me to All Saints for the Divine Liturgy the next day.
Let me remind you of some facts: Anna had been resolutely opposed to the Orthodox Church for some months. She had only visited an Orthodox Church on two occasions, both in 2001. I'm not sure why I asked the Blessed Virgin to pray that Anna would go to church with me. I don't recall any positive indicators.
In any case, we ran errands all that Saturday, buying a few hundred dollars' worth of baby stuff at the outlet malls north of Chicago. It wasn't until we'd gone to bed, and were laying there listening to the gathering spring storm outside that I decided I would risk an emotional confrontation to ask Anna if she'd go to worship with me. She reluctantly said yes.
So, on a Mother's Day two years after her first visit to an Orthodox Church, Anna accompanied me to All Saints Orthodox Church. As it so happened, the parish priest, Father Patrick, was out of town, and another diocesan priest, Father Malek, served the Divine Litugry--who, ironically, was the one serving the Typika on my first visit to All Saints back in July 2000 (he was Father Deacon Malek at that time).
The sermon, from my vantage point, was probably the best possible "re-introduction" to Orthodoxy that Anna could have had. Being Mother's Day, and the Sunday of the Myrrh-bearing Women, Father Malek preached on the place of women in the Church, and, quintessentially, on the Mother of our Lord.
I'm not sure what sort of things worked themselves out in Anna's heart and mind that day or in the days following. But there were small changes evident. Not the least of which was her accepting of Father Patrick coming and blessing Sofie on her birth.
[Next: 3. Orthodox Encounters June 2002 to the Present (Final Part . . . for now)]
Since our parish church is under renovation, the entire All Saints congregation worshipped at our sister church, St. George's, site of the miraculous weeping icon of the Theotokos. The interior of the church, having been completely renovated after a devastating fire in 1997, is absolutely amazing. The iconography is most definitely inspiring. And the iconastasis and other woodwork, only serve to highlight the icons even more.
Our own parish is being worked on. Gone will be the pews and the stadium-style slanted floor. The floor will be leveled, and there will be chairs around the perimeter of the nave, otherwise there will be the traditional open space. Anna and I are looking forward to it, as we will be able to move out of the "parents-with-small-children" area at the back of the nave, and mingle once more among the other parishioners.
The service today was half in Arabic, so although I'm familiar enough with the Liturgy to have had an idea where we were at, otherwise, I was doing more spectating than engaging in worship. If I were to make St. George's, or another ethnic-language parish, my home church, I'd definitely have to learn the language. I couldn't imagine going through services just watching.
I didn't have time to find out much about the miraculous icon. I know that Khouria Frederica mentions it in one of her books. And I've read the proclamation from His Eminence, Metropolitan Philip, declaring the icon a miracle, but I don't know much more about it. Anna, when told about the icon after we got home, remained skeptical. I, myself, certainly can't argue with those who know better than me about the history of the icon and the manifestation of its tears. And in any case, it's not about my sifting through every single thing that comes my way. I should be able to trust the Church. And I do.
3. Orthodox Encounters June 2002 to the Present (Part E)
Anna was pregnant. This was joyous news. Though at first, the transition in our lives from ten years of family as couple to family as mommy, daddy and child, was emotionally tough, especially for Anna. She was smack-dab in the midst of rapid career development, and looking forward to continuing her education either in writing or in studying children's literature. Now she was a momma. For my part, all I could see at first was the economic need to suspend, if not cancel altogether, the doctoral program I was so close to finishing.
As it turned out, those first misgivings, natural as they were, soon gave way to undiluted joy, acceptance and anticipation. Sofie took us out of ourselves and gave us a greater love to share.
I got the news on Monday, 2 December. The next Sunday I was back at All Saints to offer my thanksgiving to God, and to seek his strength. It was clear to me, almost from the beginning, that Sofie's advent was in part, an answer to the prayers of the Theotokos for us which I'd been praying now for a couple of months. At first I had to take this somewhat on faith, though the conviction was strong. But as the months have unfolded since then, events have seemed to bear this out.
By the end of the month, I was finalizing the several essays I'd been working on about Orthodoxy. I also read Metropolitan John Zizioulas' Being as Communion. This, in conjunction with Nellas' Deification in Christ, served to further fundamentally shape my understanding of the Church, the Trinity and salvation. These books drove me back to the New Testament to confirm and reason out what it was they were saying. I began to understand that the individualistic faith I'd been reared with and trained in as an adult was antithetical to the prima facie text of the New Testament. If I gained nothing else, I learned that almost always, when Paul uses "you" in his letters to the churches, it is collective. We are saved together. And that has far-reaching implications.
While all this was going on, about the middle of the month, I had my second "St. Anthony moment." That is to say, while worshipping and hearing the lections for the day, the word of God hit me right between the eyes. In June I was the blind man whose sight had been restored and the jailer who had received the promise of the salvation of his entire household. This time, God was much more direct. The Gospel reading was from Luke 14:16-24, the parable of the wedding supper and those who refuse to come. One reason given by one of the invitees: I've just gotten married. I was hardly a newlwed, at (then) nine years of marriage. But I had to ask myself: was my marriage more important to me than the truth of God's Church?
As I hope has been evident, I had, for some seven months by this time, done the best I could to balance both my pursuit of the truth about the Orthodox Church and the needs and demands of my marriage. In an ideal world, these would not have conflicted. But as has been told, I am not an ideal husband, even if this were an ideal world. By the same token, I had to legitimately ask myself, was I more concerned about avoiding Anna's anger or more concerned about living the truth in love, even when this truth did not coincide with Anna's beliefs?
One thing of which I was certain: if I were ever to become Orthodox, I wanted to do it as a family. And I was growing in my certainty that I was not alone in this desire. It seemed that God and the saints interceding for us wanted that as well.
Advent that year was extremely meaningful. I came to sense more deeply what it meant for the Lord to take on Mary's humanity, to become a man and live as one of us. I was joyous at the thought of becoming a new father. Anna was much more ambivalent, and this, augmented by the newly surging hormones of pregnancy, made for an emotional time as she worked through her anxieties and embraced her joys.
In light of my own struggle to balance my Orthodox inquiries and Anna's needs, I did not return to All Saints till the following February.
[Next: 3. Orthodox Encounters June 2002 to the Present (Part F)]
3. Orthodox Encounters June 2002 to the Present (Part D)
I arrived a few minutes late for dinner at St. Gregory's Abbey on that October Friday, the eleventh. Arriving late is not a good thing at a monastery, but being Benedictines they were unfailingly gracious and served me a heaping plate of food nonetheless. St. Gregory's observes the canonical offices of Matins (4:00 am), Lauds, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers and Compline. So after a brief opportunity to unload the car and unpack, it was time to head to the abbey church for Compline. I wandered around a bit in the monastery library, then headed back to the guest house, did some journaling and headed to bed.
The weekend was the wonderful Benedictine dance between work, study and prayer, though as a guest I was left to my own devices during the community work hours. I did some reading and journaling between offices. I ate with the brothers and other guests. I rested.
I came to the abbey with no real agenda, other than knowing I needed to go there. I'd been to the abbey on a couple of other occasions (though the last visit had been four years before), each visit of which was an intense time of prayerful consideration of a vocation and the seeking of some confirmation of its certainty. On the drive over to the abbey this time, however, I simply told God I had no agenda other than the one he had for me. If "nothing happened" that would be fine. I would just trust in him.
But as it turned out, one of the books I'd checked out of the monastery library for the weekend was a service of the Akathist Hymn to the Theotokos. I had not developed any sort of "devotion to the Virgin," and, indeed, other than the prescribed instances in the Divine Liturgy and the service of Morning Prayers, I'd never really sought her intercessions. But I remembered that in the West, Saturdays were uniquely devoted to the Blessed Virgin, so, on Saturday afternoon, I developed the idea that in the meditation time after Compline, I would pray the Akathist Hymn in one of the chapels running along the side of the monastery church.
It was an experience of prayer that was more about the distraction of standing and attending to only about ten percent of the words than about anything else. From the paradigm of spiritual experience I'd gained from my heritage churches, the prayer was a "non-experience." No feelings of piety. No mystical flights of fancy. But, strangely enough, it was a prayer about which I suddenly wanted to develop a routine of praying.
The weekend ended Sunday after lunch. I headed back to the abbey church to spend a few moments in prayer in one of the side chapels. I prayed, as I'd done for several months, for the unity of our family and home in spiritual matters. I began to pray for Anna. Then, quite unexpectedly, I was overcome with sobbing. I had a glimpse of my own unworthiness before God, of my sinfulness. In the prayers that came forth, I asked the intercessions of the Theotokos with regard to our family and the Orthodox Church.
As quickly as it came on me, the crying left. I prayed a bit longer and then left. Soon I headed home.
Through the next month at home life was just as it had always been. I was doing more serious reading in Orthodoxy, particularly Panayiotis Nellas' Deification in Christ. In my daily prayers, however, I soon took on the practice of asking the intercessions of the Theotokos for me and my household. I began specifically to ask the prayers of our Lady for my wife.
On Monday, 2 December, my wife went to the doctor. She'd been feeling ill for a week and just wasn't shaking it. I touched base briefly with Anna prior to my evening class. Then, class over, I headed home in a Chicago snowfall. But oddly enough, for me, my thoughts were not on class or some theological idea, which was usually the case. I often reflected on such things on the walk home. No, this night, my thoughts were daydreams about the future, and the children we hoped to have and raise.
Which was interesting, because I'm not, by any stretch of the imagination, an "intuitive" person. But when I walked in the door, Anna had news for me.
[Next: 3. Orthodox Encounters June 2002 to the Present (Part E)]
(Cf. James 2:19)
I believe in one God, but I seek my own will.
I know that He is the Father Almighty, but I willfully obscure his Fatherhood. It is so much easier to liberate oneself from an impersonal Parent.
I know that He is the Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible, but I obscure His creation behind a willful blindness to the witness of the natural world. I am much less obligated that way.
And I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, but I seek my own will.
I know that He is the Son of God, the Only-Begotten, I well realize that He is Begotten of the Father before all worlds, and I know that He is Light of Light, Very God of Very God, Begotten, not made, but I willfully obscure these claims by turning them into metaphors. The mental math is so much easier that way, and makes academic the question of His Personhood. And if I can in any way diminish His Personhood, I can much more easily seek my own will.
I, of course, know full well that He is of one essence with the Father, and that by [Him] all things were made, but if I can attribute the origin of the universe to the material causes I can see around me, I don't really owe Him any allegiance.
I know that it is said of Jesus that it is He Who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven, and was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and was made man, but if I can wave aside His Deity, I can well manipulate the history of his humanity. Besides, I don't want to be saved from my own will.
I know that He was crucified under Pontius Pilate, and suffered and was buried, and I really don't have any arguments against that. His death makes Him a hero and a great moral and political leader. And anyway, a hero and exemplar suits me much better than a God.
I also know that the third day He rose again, according to the Scriptures, so the Scriptures and I will just have to agree to disagree here. A dead hero is much more suited to my tastes. (See above.)
I know that He ascended into heaven and sitteth at the right hand of the Father and that He shall come again with glory to judge the quick and the dead, Whose Kingdom shall have no end, but I obscure the reality of the afterlife with an amorphous, metaphorical heaven to which anyone who thinks themselves decent enough can go. I don't want to go to hell, of course, so I prefer to remain in-between, seeking my bliss in the here and now.
And I believe in the Holy Spirit, but I seek my own will.
I know that the Holy Spirit is the Lord, and Giver of Life, Who proceedeth from the Father, but I willfully obscure his Personhood through theological disputes. He is easier to ignore that way.
I know that it is He Who with the Father and the Son together is worshipped and glorified, Who spake by the prophets, but all I have to do is call my own inner thoughts and feelings His leading. It is so much easier to authenticate my own will.
And I believe in One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, but I seek my own will. I don't need the Church; I can seek God on my own. I don't need the Church; I can interpret the Bible for myself. I don't need the Church; I can create my own sacraments of feeling, spirituality, food, affirmation, health, sex, and liberation.
I don't really acknowledge one Baptism for the remission of sins, because after all, I've created a church in my own image in which I need only feeling and spirituality.
Nor do I look for the Resurrection of the dead, and the Life of the world to come. Given all the above, why would I?
(© 2004 Clifton D. Healy)