Why do you want to be Orthodox?

Croatian highway, 2006

Today, my priest simultaneously posted a question, "Why are you Orthodox?" and answers from two parishioners. Their answers were wonderful and each brought their own perspective. I wanted to bring my own answer but then thought better about it. Both have been a part of the Church for a long time. The question fit them better. The better question for myself makes the title of this post. Why do I want to be Orthodox?

Faith had never been a choice for me. Growing up Southern Baptist/Pentecostal, with deep Primitive Baptist roots, faith was a no-brainer. This is especially true growing up in the rural South. I had Sola Scriptura in one corner and the Holy Ghost in the other with a tradition of backwoods independence playing referee. We weren't snake handlers or anything (“thou shalt not tempt the Lord”) but we did make for good Pharisees. I was raised to believe that I was a Sinner, but getting “Saved” was my ticket to Redemption. Since nearly everyone around me had a firm hold on Salvation, perhaps it is little wonder that I never questioned the world that was taught to me. Those who are not "saved" burn for eternity in a lake of fire. They were told the truth and if they rejected it. It was their fault. "Saved" in this sense means simply asking Jesus into your heart.

As a young adult, I left the borders of those belief systems and encountered the wider world: The Real World. Life found me standing in front of a Hindu temple in Malaysia, staring at the relief sculptures that frequently adorn such structures. I was frowning at the various depictions of gods and demons that were locked in struggle across the walls, holding back a grudging admiration at how well the artist(s) had captured, even if metaphorically, the human condition. One lighter being stretched for the sky, trying to escape the grip that a bluer being had on its ankle. Others seemed to have escaped, only to realize the volley of weapons hurled at them from the ground. It was the Hindu version of the Ladder of Divine Ascent. I looked to my left and right to witness the local people going about their lives. I have since been accused of judging the people but my religious education left me no alternative. These people are going to burn. I was suddenly struck with the revelation that faith is insufficient as a measure of salvation. Faith alone saved no one. The Devil has faith.

With no alternative understanding of Christianity, I had a crisis of faith. I bargained, begged, and threatened for answers and none were given. I found brief solace in the Old Testament alone but even that could not keep me. Noachidism, the sect of Orthodox Judaism that is reserved specifically for faithful Gentiles, could not see past the narrow view of Creationism. God is no liar. Without stopping to even look at Deism, I went straight to Atheism. Not some arrogant position that men don't need God, but the hopelessness of having no answer at the other end of the phone. Only ringing. If I had heard a voice from a burning bush, I'd have thrown rocks at it.

I was heavily involved with the Creationism/Evolution debate on YouTube.com. I was dumbfounded at the willful ignorance displayed by the Christian apologists and deeply dismayed by the arrogance of the Atheists. The baby had been thrown out with the bathwater and there was nothing “sacred”. Cold, hard, arrogant logic ruled the day. The Atheists had all the facts to support Evolution and the Creationists were doing all of the lying. They still are. In many ways, I still possessed "Christian values". I didn't fit. I was, as one fellow Atheist put it, an atheistic platypus. I subscribed to a video maker whose real name is Archbishop Lazar Puhalo. He resides in All Saints of North America Monastery in Canada. In the course of his videos, he demonstrated a kind of Christianity that I had never known before. Christ, Love, Asceticism, Hell, and more were changed in my understanding. How amazing it is that this “new” faith, this Christianity, is called Orthodox and the world doesn't bat an eye at it. Protestants are searching for the original Church and pass right by it.

A surprising revelation from two other sources also came to light. Daoism, commonly spelled “Taoism”, is an ancient Chinese philosophy absorbed into local Chinese pagan religions. One principle of Daoist thought is that human beings are born good but become “warped”. The ascetic aim of Daoism is to become like “uncarved wood” or to "unwarp" one's self. Something about this concept struck a chord in me. In addition, Buddhism introduced the idea that it was our passions that do the damage. Unknowingly at the time, I had encountered the purpose of the Church. In all practical applicability I found both principles to be true:

1. We are damaged.
2. It is our passions that do the damage.

Which introduced the question:

                     How do we repair the damage?

Of course, adopting those belief systems would mean taking on the rest of their baggage. Simply put, they didn't feel right. I wasn't looking for comfort, but I was looking for home. What is profound about those concepts is that they can be arrived at independent of religious conviction. The truth of them is inescapable. In the course of my studies, I discovered that this was the purpose of the Church. It is a hospital for our souls and it helps us to heal our passions. With no prior knowledge of this, I had been the one to throw the baby out with the bath water. I had walked away from Christianity without really knowing it. It was at this point that I decided to meet with a few Orthodox priests. I met with one of the Russian tradition; who happened to be a convert and from close to my hometown. I also met with a priest of the Greek tradition; a cradle Orthodox born and raised in Greece. It became clear early on that the nice Greek man just didn't know the language I was speaking. The Russian tradition priest knew where I was coming from and, in many ways, why. With his guidance, I am encountering deeper understandings of Christian theology.

The first time I attended an Orthodox service, it was Daily Vespers. It was early August, raining, and the sky was very overcast. Having come in from the rain, Matushka directed me to a seat and I waited for the service to begin. The Choir began behind me, the incense filled the air, and I fell in love. I would not call the seed planted that night Faith. I am still woefully short on that. It will likely be something I struggle with my entire life. That seed is probably best described as Wonder. Thus far, that seed has grown and branched into a new found recognition of the depth of my own sinfulness. This is not to say that I have acquired full self knowledge. Such a thing would likely destroy me. It is only to say that I have started walking down a path, cleared a little brush, swept a few leaves. I am acquiring the tools to work out my Salvation and the weapons to fight for it. For the first time, my faith is not a circumstance in which I find myself, but a conscious choice. Christ is my Saviour and I am putting my trust in Him.

In short, the answer to the question “Why do you want to be Orthodox”, can probably best be answered thus:

            I know where Christ is needed.

The Hardest Pill To Swallow

In coming to the Church, there are some things that a person must “lay aside”. That is, when one concludes that the Orthodox Church is correct, we converts are faced with the prospect that we are not the highest authority of our belief. For those of us that formerly felt that we can only trust the “Word as we understand it”, must come to grips with the “Word as it has always been understood”. Perhaps some of us hang on to our own little “heresies”. We cling to the Church because she is “correct in most things”, but secretly think that she poorly understands others. The caveat in which we may hide is that many, many things have not been officially addressed by the Church.

Some of the more common “pills that must be swallowed” are prayers to the Theotokos and the Saints, Confession, repetitious prayers, and icons. This blog post is not concerned with those subjects, although a fully orthodox understanding of them is a very worthwhile investment in one's salvation. I came to Orthodoxy an atheist. I came to see and fell in love with Christ. As I suspected, I never proved the existence of God. I only succeeded in proving to myself that I needed Him to be there. This is the weak and insufficient condition of my own faith. The benefit of this is that I am a blank slate, allowing Orthodoxy to teach me theology, rather than having to consolidate it with my own.

The hardest pill for me to swallow is that a lifelong union between two consenting adults is sinful. I am, of course, speaking of a homosexual union. The whole thing feels so backwards to me. I can participate in long discussions on the merits of celibacy, asceticism, mysticism, passions, Christology, and even, on really good days, Young Earth Creationism. But the minute someone brings up the sinfulness of homosexual relationships, I can't comprehend what is being discussed.

First, there is the fact that such people do not have a choice in their orientation. This is well documented and understood in Psychology and even more evident in the number of suicides committed by homosexual teenagers each year. One testimony to the truth of Christianity is that people gave their lives rather than abandon it. The “non-choice” of homosexuality is evident in the deaths of those who could not escape it. As a high school friend of mine who happens to be homosexual has pointed out, if it were a choice, he would un-choose it. It is a difficult life, especially in the South.

Second, even as a heterosexual, I face the power of lust. Yet the plight of the homosexual is such that they receive added baggage. More than anything, I think it is the “and” factor that bothers me. There is the power of lust “and” it's homosexual nature. Where my own lust-fulness was directed at and ultimately consummated in a relationship with a member of the opposite sex, the homosexual has no such outlet. There is no hope of ultimate release in this life. In essence, the shelter I have in my marital bed is not obtainable.

Third, we most thoroughly understand Sin, not as a specific act, but as a condition that infects us and, through our actions, does the damage. Lust can overwhelm a man and, through selfishness, cause him to violate a woman. Greed can infect our minds and cause us to steal. Homosexuality is different in that the only evident harm in a consensual lifelong relationship between two persons of the same sex is that other people don't like it. Meaning, the root ethical problem of a homosexual relationship is that it causes everyone else to sin. Maybe it is a hold over from my Protestant days but, whenever I read the Law, I saw the practical nature of the Decalog, the symbolism and holiness of the dietary and cleanliness laws, and the health and social wisdom of the laws concerning sexual morality. But the law demanding that two persons of the same sex cannot enter into a consensual lifelong union is an enigma except to see it as something God arbitrarily doesn't like(does God do anything arbitrary) or that it provokes other people to sin.

And that is probably the most troublesome idea that I can imagine. Could it be that the homosexual is required to choose celibacy for our sakes? Do they have to bear an extra cross so that we do not “hate our brother”? It is a difficult problem to address and one that I often have to abandon almost as soon as I pick it up. Perhaps my greatest flaw of reasoning is expecting this fallen world to show some level of fairness. Apparently, we are not all on a level playing field. Perhaps the axiom that I should abandon is that we are “all created equal” in our burden of Sin. Is there any Patristic teaching on this? Is there some guidance available to me?

So, I must swallow the pill. I must accept that Orthodoxy is correct, and I am wrong. My judgment is weak and ill advised, and the Church overwhelmingly opines that such relationships can never be sanctified. If asked of the relationship of homosexuality and Orthodoxy, I must state that Orthodoxy is in agreement that homosexual relationships are sinful and have no place in the body of Christ, and lament that my own lust can be controlled in my marriage bed and the inquisitor must suffer more than I or walk away from Orthodoxy altogether. My burden is so light and their burden is so very heavy. My heart breaks for them and I'm not sure if I should become callous to their feelings or heretical in my position. More than any other subject, I have to stand on a knifes edge, fearful of either side.