Mediocrity

It’s been a long time. I have drifted into mediocrity. My prayer rule and my fasting are nothing to be proud of and my church attendance suffers similarly. I am, thank God, somewhat keeping my confessions up. I am a failure.

When I was growing up, I actually believed that I would change the world. I not only believed that I had the potential to save the world, I thought I would actually do it. In some sense, it was even my duty. I’m sure there is some unflattering word to describe that state of mind, but I would certainly not say it came from a place of arrogance or pride. I think it was naiveté. When the world is simple, the solutions are simple. World peace? No problem. Hunger? I got this. Disease? Please. Maybe I was just an overly optimistic child, or a by-product of my generation, coming to know the world after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Cold War.

Where am I now? Well it should be obvious to the casual observer that I have not saved the world. As it turns out, I am one of billions of teaming masses of human beings that have ever existed and will never enter a history book. I work a job I enjoy, but in the grand scheme of things it has little effect beyond feeding my family (and thank God it does that). I am the faceless nobody you will pass in the grocery store and never have a second thought about. I will never be a doctor, a teacher, the President, a diplomat, a priest, an adventurer, an astronaut, or time traveler. I will likely never save a life. I will likely never even marginally affect that of a stranger. I am average.

At one time, as an evangelical, I even felt a “calling” to preach. I now lump this period of my life into the same category as my desire to go into politics. It was dreaming. I like dreams. I daydream quite often. In daydreams I create scenarios in which I can be something I’m not. I can be someone who “matters” or “makes a difference”. I can even be someone chosen by God for a special purpose. But I am not called to anything special anymore than the guy I saw holding the cardboard sign at the intersection. In fact, I am probably far less worthy of being called to some special purpose than he is. Through him, people are earning their crowns. Through me, people are receiving a quality service (mostly). Small miracles, right?

I and others I know struggle with this “calling” thing quite a bit. I think maybe it is because we feel guilty for wanting to be religious leaders. There are perks and stigmas attached to the vocation that immediately illicit suspicion. I do not want to be seen as a person who wants to wear the cassock so I can be respected among men; therefore I assign that guilt to God and remove it from myself. I cannot be accused of being an attention seeker if God has dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the altar table for ordination. It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask to be special. Of course, that has little to do with our real relationship with God and a lot to do with how we wish to be perceived by other people. We are engaging in the action in order to not appear to be engaging in the action. Some of us catch ourselves and reject it all together. We drive against the desire to serve because of the never ending circle of second guessing and guilt. Yet, even now I am writing this with the silly dream that my acceptance of my inevitable mediocrity somehow indicates some virtue that God will use to call me to a higher purpose, even though I have received no such promise.

So, should I ask God to make me content to be no one of significance, or should I ask Him to place opportunities at my feet that I will most assuredly fail at? Just some of the questions I struggle with these days.

Throwing Stones

As Christians, it is our duty to correct and guide one another.

Or is it really that simple? In Christianity in general, Orthodox or not, we love our Scripture. We very closely adhere to Paul's endorsement in 2 Timothy 3:

¹⁶ All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, ¹⁷ that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.

As a "People of the Book" and practitioners of a revealed religion, the "Book" is integral to our faith. As history shows, however, it has also been very useful as a weapon. In the slave-holding South, it was used quite effectively in helping to control the slave population. In the infamous "God Hates Fags" campaign of the Westboro Baptist Church, it is used to cast judgement on other groups. One might believe that we simply must place a Bible in the face of offenders every time they turn their heads. However, a few things ought to be examined:


Where does the desire to correct our brother come from?

One of the motivating factors in leading the Christian life is to be healed of our passions. One of our most devious passions (and the foundation of others) is Pride. When we come to our brother to "correct" their opinion, worldview, behavior, etc.; have we removed the beam from our own eye? Are we truly concerned with their spiritual health or do we take joy in policing them?


Am I the best person to correct my brother?

Beyond the implications of the first question, we must also examine whether or not our relationship is the sort where corrections can occur. In most peoples lives, their are very few people, if any, that we can listen to without becoming defensive. Becoming defensive is a roadblock to correction because an integral part of one's defense is a process of self-justification. On can justify nearly anything to oneself (something that is not easily done in Confession.).


True conviction.


In my personal experience, true conviction is a difficult thing to achieve in another person. The adulteress woman of John 8:1-11 knew full well what the Law said. In fact, Adultery is one of the big 10. Yet she did not receive true conviction against her actions through mere knowledge of the Law. One might even presume that she did what so many who are unfaithful do and justified her actions. Those justifications might have even stuck with her right up to meeting our Savior. Something deeper must occur for true, life altering conviction. Some of us even need to suffer. All of us need Grace.

True conviction is something really very beautiful in the life of one who truly wishes to change. There is joy in the revelation that pinpoints the wounds that need healing, even if it is bittersweet due to the fruit of those transgressions. We should try to allow those revelations, even when they come in the form of accusations. But not every brother or sister is ready to receive them and, even more importantly, there are so few of us that are capable of delivering those revelations with love and humility. Perhaps the more powerful and effective force in the lives of our brothers and sisters is prayer.

Confession on the Breath...

I was reading this blog post from Logismoi (It seems that piggy backing is becoming a habit, my apologies). I must admit that I'm not terribly familiar with Papadiamandis, but I find Logismoi's argument to be intriguing in asserting that Papadiamandis is still "saintly" regardless of his bad habits. I think perhaps I can use this to shed some light on my 'angry man'.

I mentioned before that I had a way of focusing the 'angry man' into a display of righteous indignation. Much of this, I believe, is for the benefit of my 'character'. We all love a protagonist with a just cause. The problem is that my motives aren't always so noble. I have said "Thou fool' (Matthew 5:22) in many ways over the years. I have brow-beaten and bullied many an adversary, and made many an enemy in debate.

Just as the alcoholic might hide his addiction under pretense of fun, I hide my anger under pretense of moral authority. The difference is that I could theoretically maintain the "show" for my entire life. Addiction has a way of forcing itself to the surface. The alcoholic will most often have to come to grips at some point with his or her need. Friends and family will likewise become aware. My "normal human behavior" is deadly to me but easily accepted (even applauded) in the world in which we live, alcoholism is not so easily accepted. Therefore, I might concede that the alcoholic has a better 'shot' at Salvation than I do. My 'angry man' leads to the 'prideful man' (another target). The alcoholic leads to the 'broken man' which is much closer to where I should be starting. I had to have my greatest enemy revealed to me in Confession. The fallen alcoholic carries his confession on his breath.

Of course, I am not an alcoholic and I cannot venture much further into what such a struggle might entail. Let it suffice for now to know that my being such a 'normal person' has its dangers. The world in which we operate places value in some of the very things which I must reject about myself. Modern society sees long-suffering as a sign of weakness, when recent experience tells me quite the opposite. It is extremely difficult NOT to defend oneself against the odd 'unfairness' in the world. Beyond, that, it takes nothing short of Grace to actually allow for the idea that we are not entitled to get our way. Am I advocating being the world's doormat? No. My goal in destroying the 'angry man' is to grow beyond knee jerk reactions to the odd inconvenience, to see past my own desires and passions. The 'angry man' makes me hang on when I should be letting go.

All the World's A Stage,

And all the men and women merely players;
-Shakespeare-

Each of us is an actor in his/her own little play, showing the audience (including ourselves) our best sides, making the appropriate dramatic motions, and making ourselves into the protagonist we wish to be known as. We do this although the costume doesn't quite fit right, our legs are getting tired, and the spotlight often shows us the things we don't like to see in ourselves.

In our struggles to live the Christian ideal, it is habitual for us to "change the script", directing the 'character' in a more appropriate moral direction. But the actor is left unchanged and, in a sense, unsaved from the wounds he is hiding under his dress and make up.

Inspired by a recent blog post by Archpriest Stephen Freeman, here, I am reminded of this in my endeavor to conform myself to Christ. Christianity is an internal struggle. One which I have not mastered to the point of being authoritative to any degree enough to make blog posts. I am also reminded of how easy it is to make an analogy of the internal life, but a whole different thing to actually examine it. Such is the power of inspiring words. It often seems that they reveal things about that mysterious subject, people, but the spotlight rarely falls on us. Our 'characters' are not nearly as crude as real human beings. In a video interview between Richard Dawkins and paleontologist Richard Leakey, on the documentary, The Fifth Ape, Leakey pointed out that people who have trouble with the idea that they biologically descended from apes, have far less trouble with the idea that other zoo goers descended from them. I think Leakey stumbled upon a fundamental human truth. In my own language, even within this very blog post, I will attribute human qualities and shortcomings to that still mysterious subject, people, and still more mysterious subject, we. In this regard, my focus ought to be the only creature that I have any faculties over, me, even if it is itself nearly as mysterious. To complicate matters, I should not even focus on me, but rather on the one doing the focusing. I cannot afford to make the mistake of revising my 'character', when the 'actor' is the one who needs the Salvation. My first target, if my lifetime confession shows anything, should be the 'angry man'. This is a part of me that I have most effectively focused into my characters righteous indignation. It is my main source pain.

In light of these thoughts, and advice from my spiritual father, my blog posts are going to be internalized. I stated recently that I have grown tired of polemics. It has dominated most of my writing. Henceforth, my writing will take on the appearance of a diary, instead. I still find it helpful to write my thoughts, as it helps me to organize them.

Polemics, Schmolemics...

As I sit down to write this, I must confess that I have grown weary of Polemics. I have no desire to continue comparing Orthodoxy to Protestantism. On the other hand, I have a little too much desire to defend Orthodoxy against Protestantism. We're all reading mostly the same Bible and coming to different conclusions based on preconceived ideas about the nature and purpose of the Christian life. In Orthodoxy, we call those preconceived ideas 'Tradition'. Everyone has a tradition. Everyone has dogma. So, what makes me feel that Orthodoxy has the correct Tradition? What gives it the weight to remain, in my opinion at least, the proper and authentic understanding of Christianity in the face of so many different ideas?

There is a great deal of diverse opinion in the world. In fact, there are as many worldviews as there are people. Particularly in America, perhaps as a result of our entrepreneurial spirit and value of individuality, we have come to a point where often we, as Christians, accept others on the grounds that they also assume the label of 'Christian'. In such a way, we have created an atmosphere in which it was possible to develop over 23,000 Protestant denominations (by some estimates). If that number is disturbing, you might be in agreement with a rapidly growing number of Christians who describe themselves as 'non-denominational'. 

When one confesses a particular doctrine, we may reasonably infer that they actually believe it and that they believe it to the exclusion of all others. When I say the Nicene Creed, it may be reasonably inferred that my Christianity fits within the context of that confession. What the Baptist, the Methodist, the Pentecostal, etc. are saying when they confess their particular creeds is that they believe what they are stating. No one objects to this. If the Baptist thought that their set of beliefs were wrong, they simply wouldn't be Baptist. But the Baptist that thinks that their set of beliefs is correct is doing so to the exclusion of all others. Often in religious conversation, we hear the words “I don't believe [Doctrine A], because I believe [Doctrine B]”. 

What any denomination is doing in reality is stating that they are the “Ark of Salvation”. They are marking a line in the sand and stating, “On this side you are correct and on that side you are wrong.” The logical conclusion is that they are also stating that no one was correct before they worked out their theology. For the Calvinist, no one had it before Calvin. The same applies for Luther. Even Roman Catholicism, with the advent of Papal Infallibility, is in some sense stating that Roman Catholicism was missing something before the doctrine was introduced. Even the non-denominational, although they may lean toward certain Protestant ideals, also takes the really strong stance that no one denomination has got it completely right. 

Furthermore, we are often faced with an utter lack of humility when working out our personal theological views. We will read, listen, and reason until we work out our own theological collage of doctrines and then search for the denomination that best fits us. Imagine that. We want a Christianity that fits us, rather than wanting to adjust ourselves to Christianity. 

The truth of the matter is that any Christian would likely give a limb to walk about the hills of Galilee with Jesus, or travel the Roman world with Paul, in order to get back to the 1^st century Church. We all want the most authentic faith that is possible. Despite whatever pitfall we happen to have fallen into, we really just want the truth. For most of us, if Jesus appeared as He did with Paul, and pointed at a particular denomination, we would abandon our own immediately. Just as Paul abandoned the Pharisees, we would completely readjust our theology to the religious view that Jesus pointed to.

In lieu of such a holy and miraculous event, I can suggest this defense of Orthodoxy. It and it alone can claim lineage from the Church of the first four centuries. All of Christianity was once a unified body of believers who did not refer to themselves as any denominational name but simply as the One, Holy, Catholic(universal), and Apostolic Church. The West split away and has been splintering since(Matt 7:15-20). With so many new denominational names coming into existence, the Church needed a way to set itself apart and took the name 'Orthodox'. Orthodoxy is pre-denominational.

What is significant about that defense is that it shows precedence. Whereas the Adventist is stating that Christ taught but no one really “got it” until the Adventists, the Orthodox Christian has been stating the same message for 2000 years. In fact, the Adventist isn't stating much of anything that goes past 500 years, except when they quote scripture. But they quote scripture and understand it from the Adventist tradition, which is less than 100 years old in its current form.

This is why someone can voice some protest against Orthodox doctrine and theology and it falls on deaf ears most of the time. Scripture has been studied and discerned. It has been worked through and the meaning understood by men who devoted their entire lives to prayer and communion with God. While our understanding can reach new depths and provide new insights, it cannot be negated and replaced by a different version. To negate Orthodox Theology is to negate the words of Jesus when He said, “the Gates of Hades will not prevail against” His Church (Matt 16:18). To take the position that only the Pentecostals got it right is to say that there was no true Christianity between Nicea and the Holiness Movement of the mid-19^th century. 

Thus, when seeking the most authentic understanding of Christianity, I saw no recourse except to come to Orthodoxy. The Orthodox Church is the Ark of Salvation. That is not to insinuate that those outside of the Church do not have Salvation. It does not mean that many if not most other denominations are not, in some sense, Christians. It does mean that they are in danger of misunderstanding, confusing, minimizing, and dismissing the authentic Christian life that they could have. Depending on the doctrine of their denomination, they could even miss the mark altogether on what it means to “work out your salvation”(Phil 2:12).

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.