Friday, October 2, 2009
Oh, Great Protecress
Stihira "O, mare Apărătoare", glas 1 ("Oh, Great Protectress" Sticheron, Tone 1) - Romanian Orthodox Byzantine Chant
letter from taybeh
Dear Friends of St. George Taybeh,
I have written this letter
especially for Taybeh people abroad
and I wanted to share it with you,
in Christ's love, maria
----
Dearly Beloved people of Taybeh abroad, locally and internationally,
My Brothers and Sisters, I greet you with the Love and Peace of Christ our Lord and Savior,
I sincerely thank you very much for the amazing solidarity and support you have shown by your phone calls to my husband David, mayor of Taybeh following the tragic attack at the municipality on Monday evening, Sept 28, 2009 at 8:15 pm where the mayor’s car was put on fire and extensive damage done to the municipality doors, windows, telephone lines forcing us to spend so many days cleaning up and replacing public property instead of inviting people to our beloved village for a day of solidarity for the Oktoberfest which has become a major event in Palestine and has developed Taybeh into the iconic image for most locals and internationals specifically since David Khoury become mayor, (www.taybehmunicipality.org <http://www.taybehmunicipality.org/> ) For those who are not familiar, last Oktoberfest received more than eighteen ambassadors from around the world strongly placing Taybeh on the psychological map of people’s heart since the awful Israeli occupation steals our identity and only illegal Israeli settlements appear on tourist maps and on road signs.
I have been emotionally hurt by this recent attack and completely burned out from community service since it follows four other attacks on my husband personally and Khoury property. I can only say that my whole life in Taybeh since my first visit, 1983, I have only known to be loyal and obedient to my husband who loves Taybeh so much. I have given of myself, my heart, my soul, my skills and knowledge to promote the village, Church, our family business and worthy projects in Palestine for education and art. After my husband and I neglect our own family and personal time with our children to serve others, I have only learned that good guys finish last. But my late father-in-law, Canaan David Khoury, instilled this deep love for Taybeh in us because he was very appreciative of his roots and he had great vision that Palestine would one day be free and he taught all of us to be leaders in positive thinking, entrepreneurship endeavors, and contributing to society.
On behalf of my husband David, the honorable Mayor of Taybeh, we sincerely appreciate your support and solidarity in all ways you help Taybeh. And I truly believe and trust that my husband’s life was saved from the candles people light for us around the world and the prayers they say daily by remembering us to God. A sincere thank you for your prayers and good wishes!
With fear in God I will work for Taybeh until the day I die. The only thing I learned growing up as a Greek in America is that one person can make a difference. With the help of others we have fundraised over $147,000.00 for the Taybeh Orthodox Church Housing Project and also established an education endowment fund for St. George Greek Orthodox Church of Taybeh currently at $33,000.00 for college students to receive a scholarship each year of at least $300 for local university education in Palestine following the wonderful role model of Mr. Yusef Nawas in California who has already sponsored 35 students for partial and full tuition at Birzeit University and someone should thank him on his 94th birthday this November.
In Christ’s service, Maria C. Khoury, Ed. D. ___
A sincere personal thank you for the letter received by the Taybeh Municipality, Sept 30, 2009 from United Taybeh American Association, 14215 Ramona Ave, Hawthorne, California, 90250; (310) 259-9159; www.taybeh.org <http://www.taybeh.org/>
Dear Mr. Daoud Khoury, Mayor of Taybeh,
Dear Members of the Municipality Council,
On behalf of the Board of Directors and the members of the United Taybeh American Association and myself, I condemn, and with the strongest terms, the cowardly act of burning the vehicle of the Mayor of Taybeh, Mr. Daoud Khoury.
The United Taybeh American Association finds this act cowardly and evil and considers its perpetrators despicable and deplorable.
We stand in solidarity with our Mayor and the Municipality Council and our honorable citizens of Taybeh in Palestine and abroad, and together we reject and condemn this act of evil and any such act perpetrated against our symbols and institutions.
Sincerely,
Faiq M. Ady
UTAA President & Board of Directors
Homily for the feast of the Protection of the Virgin Mary
by Protopriest Igor Hrebinka
Today, dear brethren, we celebrate the feast of the Protection of the Holy Mother of God. The beginning of this holiday goes back to 910 A.D. in the city of Constantinople, in the former Byzantine Empire, the modern-day Turkey. At that time the city was being besieged by enemies, who threatened it with complete destruction, since the siege caught the city unawares, without the necessary means of defense. It is easy to understand the panic and fear of the inhabitants; however, they did not lose their heads.
Weak in military power, but strong in their faith and hope in God, the Greeks – together with their emperor, Leo the Wise, - gathered for an all-night vigil in the famous church of Vlakherna, where the raiment of the Mother of God was kept, and here they ardently prayed to the Queen of Heaven and earth for their deliverance.
It was at this moment that appeared the wondrous vision which we celebrate today and which remained unforgettable for all times.
In the church stood the righteous fool-for-Christ Andrew, who came from Scythia (which later became Russia), together with his disciple Epiphanius, who later became the Patriarch of Constantinople. Both of them saw the Holy Theotokos pray for the people together with the entire assembly of saints who accompanied Her, and during the prayer She covered the faithful with Her veil.
Right now we are in similar circumstances: also in church, also at a service. But what would we feel, dear brethren, if the Mother of God were to appear before us together with an entire assembly of saints?! We would have been thoroughly awestruck, unable to express our feeling in words. All of us would probably stand dumbfounded with holy awe, wonderment, delight…
And yet that is not so impossible, it is not only an ephemeral dream! The mysteries of the spiritual world surround us everywhere like air. We do not see them with our eyes, because our physical sight is too coarse, it is adapted only for purely physical purposes. Arm you eye with a telescope – and you will see sunspots a million miles away, you will see the famous canals on Mars, etc. Look in a microscope – and you will see teeming life in the tiniest drop of water.
To some degree this is a miracle, but at the same time it is natural; it is the physical laws that operate here. But there is another, different world, a spiritual world. No one can penetrate it only with the help of physical laws.
Everyone carries a particle of this spiritual world within himself – this is our soul.
The life of the soul within us is closely bound with the physical construction of our organism, and at the same time we feel that this is only a temporary arrangement. If we do not like it, we try not to think about it. If thoughts of spiritual life come to us, we try to chase them away from us.
But let us ponder, dear brethren: where now are the countless millions of people who, beginning with Adam, have lived on the earth? Discounting their personal spiritual state, we understand that they must be located somewhere. Their bodies have long turned to dust, but where are their souls?
And at this point we come face to face with an idea – though vague but still definitely present – about a creative plan for the universe, which consists of two parts – spiritual and physical, and at the edge of these two worlds stands man.
The feast of the Protection of the Mother of God shows us the union of these two worlds. Actually, most miraculous here is not the vision itself, of the Mother of God and all the saints praying for the people, - this is mentioned in all the sticheras in our services that speak of the Theotokos, - but miraculous is the fact that this vision was seen by man. This is the real miracle, since it entails a retreat from customary laws of nature. The spiritual world and all its manifestations are usually invisible to the human eye.
We have become used to imagining that She, the Holy Theotokos, and all the saints, all the deceased, the entire spiritual world in general – are somewhere over there, far away in the heavens. It is unusual and even difficult for us to believe and the Mother of God and all the saints are so close to us that they can pray together with us in our churches.
The Divine liturgy, which is served by sinful people, is a mystery which, in the words of a church prayer, “even the holy angels wish to penetrate,” while for Her, the Holy Mother of God, this sacrifice must be most precious of all.
Do not let go of the chance, dear brethren, to make use of the Theotokos’ nearness, and to pray to Her with childish simplicity, loyalty and sincere faith, calling out to Her: "Rejoice, o our Joy, protect us from all evil with Thy most precious veil." Amen.
* * *
Once again we have gathered, dear brethren, for a feast of the Most-pure Theotokos; once again we shall hear the Gospel reading, so familiar to us, about the meeting of the two joyous Mothers – Mary and Elizabeth; once again we shall exclaim together with the Theotokos: “My soul doth magnify the Lord and My spirit doth rejoice in God, My Saviour”; once again we shall joyously open our lips and gladly sing praises to Her miracles.
And this is truly a miracle of God’s mercy that it is so easy for our hearts to open up to hymning the Mother of God, that not only are we not wearied by the frequent feast days of the Virgin, but after each one passes we impatiently wait for the next one, which proves how much we love Her Who is more honorable than the cherubim and beyond compare more glorious than the seraphim.
Today’s feast has its special characteristics which make it particularly precious to us. The Most-pure spread Her veil over a city that was under siege, over a people who had no other hope except the help of the Queen of Heaven; and She interceded for this people. And thus, from this ancient historical fact into the Christian soul has entered the assurance that when there is no other intercessor, no other comfort, no other joy, when the heart is ready to accept the bitter idea that it is lonely, forgotten and unneeded by anyone, – then it suffices just to remember that we have a kind, merciful and compassionate Mother Who sees our needs, hears our entreaties, and is always ready to help us, support us, comfort us; it suffices to remember all this and appeal to Her, the Most-pure and Most-blessed, with all our heart, cry out to Her – and then a miracle will occur: sorrow will pass, and a quiet, tender joy and reconciliation to God’s will shall fill our soul.
These spiritual emotions – both sorrow and the joy that follow it – are facts, reality, actuality. We know where sorrow comes from, what gives rise to it; we should also know exactly where joy comes from, in order not to think of it as happenstance, as something which occurs of its own accord or from a change of inner mood.
The Church helps us examine our soul and see the source of its joy. In today’s kontakion it will point out to us that “today the Virgin standeth forth in the Church and with the choir of the saints She invisibly prayeth to God for us.”
Can there be any sadness or affliction where the Queen of Heaven spreads Her glittering veil? Where people appeal to Her with prayer? Can we doubt Her unseen presence among us? If we purify our feelings so that our heart would not be subject to any earthly passion, then by the prayers of the Theotokos the joy of Christ will once again encompass us and will be the source of everlasting spiritual comfort. Amen.
source: http://www.pravmir.com/article_392.html
Today, dear brethren, we celebrate the feast of the Protection of the Holy Mother of God. The beginning of this holiday goes back to 910 A.D. in the city of Constantinople, in the former Byzantine Empire, the modern-day Turkey. At that time the city was being besieged by enemies, who threatened it with complete destruction, since the siege caught the city unawares, without the necessary means of defense. It is easy to understand the panic and fear of the inhabitants; however, they did not lose their heads.
Weak in military power, but strong in their faith and hope in God, the Greeks – together with their emperor, Leo the Wise, - gathered for an all-night vigil in the famous church of Vlakherna, where the raiment of the Mother of God was kept, and here they ardently prayed to the Queen of Heaven and earth for their deliverance.
It was at this moment that appeared the wondrous vision which we celebrate today and which remained unforgettable for all times.
In the church stood the righteous fool-for-Christ Andrew, who came from Scythia (which later became Russia), together with his disciple Epiphanius, who later became the Patriarch of Constantinople. Both of them saw the Holy Theotokos pray for the people together with the entire assembly of saints who accompanied Her, and during the prayer She covered the faithful with Her veil.
Right now we are in similar circumstances: also in church, also at a service. But what would we feel, dear brethren, if the Mother of God were to appear before us together with an entire assembly of saints?! We would have been thoroughly awestruck, unable to express our feeling in words. All of us would probably stand dumbfounded with holy awe, wonderment, delight…
And yet that is not so impossible, it is not only an ephemeral dream! The mysteries of the spiritual world surround us everywhere like air. We do not see them with our eyes, because our physical sight is too coarse, it is adapted only for purely physical purposes. Arm you eye with a telescope – and you will see sunspots a million miles away, you will see the famous canals on Mars, etc. Look in a microscope – and you will see teeming life in the tiniest drop of water.
To some degree this is a miracle, but at the same time it is natural; it is the physical laws that operate here. But there is another, different world, a spiritual world. No one can penetrate it only with the help of physical laws.
Everyone carries a particle of this spiritual world within himself – this is our soul.
The life of the soul within us is closely bound with the physical construction of our organism, and at the same time we feel that this is only a temporary arrangement. If we do not like it, we try not to think about it. If thoughts of spiritual life come to us, we try to chase them away from us.
But let us ponder, dear brethren: where now are the countless millions of people who, beginning with Adam, have lived on the earth? Discounting their personal spiritual state, we understand that they must be located somewhere. Their bodies have long turned to dust, but where are their souls?
And at this point we come face to face with an idea – though vague but still definitely present – about a creative plan for the universe, which consists of two parts – spiritual and physical, and at the edge of these two worlds stands man.
The feast of the Protection of the Mother of God shows us the union of these two worlds. Actually, most miraculous here is not the vision itself, of the Mother of God and all the saints praying for the people, - this is mentioned in all the sticheras in our services that speak of the Theotokos, - but miraculous is the fact that this vision was seen by man. This is the real miracle, since it entails a retreat from customary laws of nature. The spiritual world and all its manifestations are usually invisible to the human eye.
We have become used to imagining that She, the Holy Theotokos, and all the saints, all the deceased, the entire spiritual world in general – are somewhere over there, far away in the heavens. It is unusual and even difficult for us to believe and the Mother of God and all the saints are so close to us that they can pray together with us in our churches.
The Divine liturgy, which is served by sinful people, is a mystery which, in the words of a church prayer, “even the holy angels wish to penetrate,” while for Her, the Holy Mother of God, this sacrifice must be most precious of all.
Do not let go of the chance, dear brethren, to make use of the Theotokos’ nearness, and to pray to Her with childish simplicity, loyalty and sincere faith, calling out to Her: "Rejoice, o our Joy, protect us from all evil with Thy most precious veil." Amen.
* * *
Once again we have gathered, dear brethren, for a feast of the Most-pure Theotokos; once again we shall hear the Gospel reading, so familiar to us, about the meeting of the two joyous Mothers – Mary and Elizabeth; once again we shall exclaim together with the Theotokos: “My soul doth magnify the Lord and My spirit doth rejoice in God, My Saviour”; once again we shall joyously open our lips and gladly sing praises to Her miracles.
And this is truly a miracle of God’s mercy that it is so easy for our hearts to open up to hymning the Mother of God, that not only are we not wearied by the frequent feast days of the Virgin, but after each one passes we impatiently wait for the next one, which proves how much we love Her Who is more honorable than the cherubim and beyond compare more glorious than the seraphim.
Today’s feast has its special characteristics which make it particularly precious to us. The Most-pure spread Her veil over a city that was under siege, over a people who had no other hope except the help of the Queen of Heaven; and She interceded for this people. And thus, from this ancient historical fact into the Christian soul has entered the assurance that when there is no other intercessor, no other comfort, no other joy, when the heart is ready to accept the bitter idea that it is lonely, forgotten and unneeded by anyone, – then it suffices just to remember that we have a kind, merciful and compassionate Mother Who sees our needs, hears our entreaties, and is always ready to help us, support us, comfort us; it suffices to remember all this and appeal to Her, the Most-pure and Most-blessed, with all our heart, cry out to Her – and then a miracle will occur: sorrow will pass, and a quiet, tender joy and reconciliation to God’s will shall fill our soul.
These spiritual emotions – both sorrow and the joy that follow it – are facts, reality, actuality. We know where sorrow comes from, what gives rise to it; we should also know exactly where joy comes from, in order not to think of it as happenstance, as something which occurs of its own accord or from a change of inner mood.
The Church helps us examine our soul and see the source of its joy. In today’s kontakion it will point out to us that “today the Virgin standeth forth in the Church and with the choir of the saints She invisibly prayeth to God for us.”
Can there be any sadness or affliction where the Queen of Heaven spreads Her glittering veil? Where people appeal to Her with prayer? Can we doubt Her unseen presence among us? If we purify our feelings so that our heart would not be subject to any earthly passion, then by the prayers of the Theotokos the joy of Christ will once again encompass us and will be the source of everlasting spiritual comfort. Amen.
source: http://www.pravmir.com/article_392.html
Thursday, October 1, 2009
The Attractions of Orthodoxy
by Jim Forest
"Tradition is democracy extended through time, a suffrage so universal that it includes not only the living but the dead… Tradition gives the vote not only to ourselves but to our ancestors."
Reading these words by G.K. Chesterton in Orthodoxy in 1960, when I was new to Christianity and gradually becoming a Catholic, I rejoiced at the realization that an ancient Church was as exciting as an ancient forest. Raised in a culture that worshipped newness and youth, I was beginning to appreciate those mystical explorers who went before me, mapping the geography of spiritual life, choreographing ritual, creating religious art and music.
In those days the Catholic liturgy was in many respects as it had been for centuries. While Low Mass was typically a quiet babble of hurriedly whispered prayer at which the congregation was a silent choir of witnesses, High Mass was often a revelation of beauty: priests celebrating in elaborate eucharistic vestments which had their origins in the clothing of imperial Rome, clouds of intoxicating incense rising from brass censers swinging with sleigh-bell sounds, whole congregations responding in Latin, choirs singing Gregorian chant that blew away modern music. Such Masses had the taste of eternity: the rituals so radically out of fashion that the curtains were lifted between past and present. Many received communion, though it was by no means automatic. Confession was a significant element of preparation and was often a healing experience.
Unfortunately Mass wasn’t always that good. Many priests went through the motions with occasional glances at their watches. The decay religious art had suffered in recent centuries scarred many churches, undermining the Liturgy. In many parishes, communion lines were short and the confessional a place in which condemnation outweighed forgiveness.
Remembering the old Liturgy and its environment at its worst rather than its best, I joined in the general chorus of approval when the changes instituted by the Second Vatican Council were introduced. At last Catholicism had arrived in the modern world. The words "new" and "improved" had been stamped not only on boxes of detergent but even on the Mass. In the decade following, I gradually became part of a new Catholic sub-culture that pushed liturgical experimentation still further, adding and subtracting from the ritual and calendar as if playing with a box of Legos.
Now a quarter century has passed. Several years ago I became Orthodox, joining a section of the universal Church in which there has been no substantial change in liturgical practice in centuries. Even the few areas of change are of a kind that has to do with tradition — such as each Orthodox Church building its Liturgy on the local language. But whether among Eskimos on the Aleutian islands in Alaska, Ugandans in central Africa, or Buryats beyond Lake Baikal in Siberia, the ritual is everywhere the same as it was a millennium ago.
What led me and so many others in recent years to make our religious home in a section of Christianity that many still regard as a kind of museum?
Time
Orthodoxy is generous with time. An hour is never enough for collective worship. An hour-and-a-half to two hours is common; in Russia it can stretch to three hours. On Easter, six hours is normal, from before midnight until dawn. To the uninitiated, so many hours in church is torture. But to those who have escaped the fast-lane, such unhurriedness is bliss. It is much the same with public prayer as with a good meal in which the cooking and eating take hours. In Orthodoxy there is no "fast food," no Macdonalds liturgy. Litanies, several of them very much the same, are sung — everything is sung — in a most inefficient way, while we endlessly sing back, "Lord, have mercy." Why so much repetition? For the same reason that we are so inefficient in other crucial actions: eating, love-making, long walks — all those preferred activities in which the same actions and motions are repeated over and over again.
The time one enters in Orthodoxy doesn’t tick. It used to be I would glance at my watch, but as months and then years passed, the strangeness became less strange, my preoccupation with keeping track of time evaporated. Time in church became something like time walking along the banks of a stream in the mountains.
Orthodox time isn’t box-shaped. We are used to events that start at precise moments, "on time," going on as a light switch goes on and maintaining a certain steady velocity, and then, again "on time," go off with an almost audible click. In Orthodoxy the Liturgy starts when confessions end and never on time. The transition into the Liturgy is like the rising of a wave or the slowly intensifying light of dawn. The Liturgy ends in a similar way, the time varying, the wave receding.
The re-integration of spiritual and physical activity
We live in a society in which in the connection between physical and spiritual activity is often cut, not least in church. Our spiritual life is often all in the head. Our bodies seem paralyzed.
In both east and west, there used to be neither chairs nor pews in church. The main posture of prayer was to stand. In the west, chairs were introduced. Chair-makers haven’t done nearly so well in the east. "Wisdom! Attend!" the deacon sings out periodically during the Orthodox Liturgy. Standing helps one remain attentive. Standing is also freer — one isn’t boxed in. Once you get used to it, it is a release from prison for children and better for adults, though there are a few benches for those who need them as well as the freedom to wander outside the church for fresh air or a moment of rest. (Seven years ago, when I sought a bishop’s blessing for a book I wanted to write about the Russian Orthodox Church, he warned me that I would have to do much more standing than Americans are used to: "The first hour is difficult, the second hour painful, but if you last until the third hour, God will give you wings." It has turned out that sometimes I get those wings, other times not. In any event I now find myself much preferring standing to sitting when I pray.)
The body language of Orthodoxy includes much use of the sign of the cross, a wordless amen that accompanies not only doxologies to the Holy Trinity but many other prayers. Often a small bow is combined with the action, a small but significant physical gesture of inner reverence.
The physical activities that accompany prayer are numerous. The light that illumines both icons and the church comes not from electric lamps but candles, each flame representing an act of prayer. The icons themselves are not only looked at but kissed. Occasionally the gesture is combined with touching the ground or floor — a reminder that the feet of Christ walked on this earth. If there is enough room it is customary (except during the season of Easter) for believers to prostrate themselves before the gifts on the altar after the consecration. The cross held by the priest during the final blessing is kissed by everyone.
Again and again, every bridge of the senses is used: the breathing in of incense, icons, candlelight and radiant eucharistic vestments for the eyes, constant singing for the ears.
Preparation for communion
When I started visiting churches in Russia, I was surprised that so few people received communion. I assumed the Russian Church was in the same benighted condition that had afflicted Catholicism until Pope Pius X began the long process of restoring the laity to full participation in the Eucharist. It took several years before I came to realize that the short communion lines in Russian churches did not necessarily prove that the iconostasis was a Berlin Wall between the altar and ordinary believers. Rather I became aware that many Orthodox people spend weeks, sometimes months, approaching the chalice. Confession, intensified prayer, attendance at Vespers the evening before receiving communion — these are frequent elements in Orthodox eucharistic life. Barring health requirements, there is a strict fast in the hours proceeding communion. (Exceptions occur. Earlier this year, on the Feast of the Holy Trinity, I was present at the first Liturgy celebrated at Akademgorodok near Novosibirsk in Siberia. Akademgorodok was a churchless town that was founded in the fifties by the Soviet Academy of Sciences. In no Russian town is there a higher proportion of people with graduate degrees. Despite the fact that the event was out of doors and under heavy rain, with only the altar protected by a temporary shelter, hundreds took part in the lengthy service. The atmosphere of the Liturgy was so extraordinary that, by the time of communion, many approached the chalice even though they had not prepared for it. Chalice in hand, the celebrant heard their confessions one by one, each confession ending in communion. It was a day when many who had once been baptized but had long been estranged from the Church returned to sacramental life. Many tears - tears of both repentance and joy — were mixed with the rain.)
Repentance and forgiveness
To attempt union with Christ while refusing to be reconciled with others is to turn the Eucharist into a sacrament of disconnection. Response to Jesus’ demand that one must be reconciled with others before approaching the altar (Mt 5:23) has profoundly influenced Orthodox sacramental life. Especially on Saturday nights after Vespers and Sunday mornings before the Liturgy, there will be many coming to confession. This occurs not in a confessional closet but in the front of the church, with the priest and penitent standing side by side in front of a Gospel book and cross and usually before the icon on the Mother of God and the Christ child. Often the priest will quietly whisper the Jesus prayer as he listens. Typically, the content of confession is shaped by the Sermon on the Mount, the opening verses of which are known by heart to Orthodox believers as the Beatitudes (seen as a summary of Jesus’ teaching) are sung during Liturgy when the Gospel book is carried in procession through the congregation.
In the Russian Church, there is a remarkable event that follows the Liturgy on the Sunday before Lent begins. Standing before the congregation, the priest confesses his sins as pastor and begs the forgiveness of those present. If he is married, as is usually the case, the first to approach him after the deacon is his wife. His confession continues privately. She forgives him and then confesses privately to him, receiving his forgiveness. One by one each member of the church comes to the pastor, and then to every other member of the church, continuing the process of confession and forgiveness. Forgiveness Sunday, as it is called, is one of the immense treasures of Russian Christianity, profoundly shaping the Lenten pilgrimage toward Easter, and at the same time healing many wounds that have accumulated during the year in each parish. May Forgiveness Sunday one day become a practice throughout the Church.
The place of children
One of the remarkable sayings of Jesus was that his adult disciples should not impede children who wanted to come to him: "Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them." I came to appreciate this teaching more and more as I struggled to explain to my young children why they were not allowed to receive communion in the several Catholic parishes we attended before being absorbed into Orthodoxy. How upset, in one case how angry, they were to be excluded from communion during the early years of their lives. Only in the past decade did I come to realize that this custom of western Christianity, both Catholic and Protestant, is of late origin, revealing our western preoccupation with achieving the "age of reason." But Christianity is not only for the articulate, the intelligent, the educated, but also for the newborn, the senile, the slow and forever childlike members of society. (Perhaps one could say that Orthodoxy is itself a retarded form of Christianity, that is slow, not in a hurry, dramatically failing to keep up with the times.) In an Orthodox church children, even very young ones, have a particularly privileged place. More important, they may be the only weekly communicants. The Church sees them as not yet having become enemies to themselves, unlike those of us who have clearly reached the age of reason.
A climate of compassion
Sometimes I describe Orthodoxy and Catholicism as being like similar highways except that the Orthodox road is without police cars. Oddly enough, the Orthodox traffic moves slower despite the absence of police. It is a difference less in doctrine and ecclesiastical structure (Orthodoxy lacks a Holy Office) than climate. The climate of Orthodoxy has about it the sweet smell of God’s mercy.
One sees this in areas where precept is similar but pastoral practice different. Like Catholicism, Orthodoxy emphasizes marriage as an indissoluble sacramental union, yet the Church will bless second and even third marriages. Nor does the process require a remote bureaucratic mechanism resulting in an annulment sealed in Rome but occurs in the intimate pastoral framework of the parish and diocese.
Conciliarity
The western word for the central church of a diocese is cathedral, from the Latin word for chair: literally the place where the bishop sits. In Russian the equivalent word is sobor, from the word for council. The cathedral’s decisive function is to provide a place for councils. At council the bishop presides but does not rule. Just as the Holy Spirit at Pentecost descended on the disciples gathered in the Upper Room, so does the Holy Spirit speak to the Church not through individual bishops or even through assemblies of clerics but through Councils where representatives of the Church — both clerical and lay — are gathered together. No bishop in Orthodoxy, including the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, has an authority similar to that which was gradually acquired by the Bishop of Rome. While Orthodoxy is quite willing to concede to the Peter’s heir the highest place of honor, it sees no bishop as having a role similar to that of a monarch or autocrat. Rather it sees its bishops as members of the community of believers who have special pastoral tasks but who are not uniquely equipped to discern the voice of the Holy Spirit.
The masculine-feminine balance
While every Church, like every society, is scarred by male chauvinism, I find a better balance between the masculine-feminine polarities in Orthodoxy. This is so despite the fact that that men and women are not seen as playing inter-changeable parts. Perhaps it has to do with conciliarity; both men and women participate in Church Councils. Perhaps it is because the great majority of pastors are (as were the Apostles) married: celibacy is revered but isn’t a pre-condition for priesthood. There is also the fact that women normally play crucial roles in parish leadership. Perhaps the difference also is influenced by devotion to Mary, the Theotokos, the God-bearer, whose icons and feast-days shine so brightly in Orthodox life.
Restoring western Christianity
Despite the many heavy blows that have been suffered in the Orthodox world, the eastern Church has experienced much less division than occurred within western Christianity. There was no Reformation or Counter-Reformation nor further splintering of churches that eventually estranged so many from the Church in all its segments, so many of which seemed as merciless as sword-wielding armies.
The division of the eastern and western Church occurred so many centuries ago that the eastern Church was nearly forgotten in the west. Time passed. Our western churches changed dramatically, not necessarily for the better. Now we are in the early decades of the rediscovery of our relatives, fellow members of the Body of Christ who at first may impress us as being living relics. Yet now they are beginning to open certain doors of renewal for us as we struggle to overcome the aridity we often suffer within the western Church. Increasingly we place reproductions of Orthodox icons in our parishes and homes and learn not to look at these as primitive paintings but rather as places in which we can pray more easily. Gradually we are discovering that, in doing this, we have not so much gone east but rather gone deeper into our own tradition. What we find in the east we find in the west, except that in the west it has been buried, like good frescoes which were painted over by poor frescoes until we were so appalled at the graceless art on the walls that we only wanted to paint the corrupted walls white. Now what was lost or plastered over begins to come back to life. It is a kind of Easter that promises much for Christianity in both east and west. An ancient estrangement is ending.
Pope John Paul II has said that he will consider his papacy to have failed if, by the year 2000, the eastern and western churches remain divided. What a joy it would be if, during the first Easter of the coming Millennium, we Christians could sing with one voice and one heart the Resurrection hymn, "Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tomb bestowing life."
source:
"Tradition is democracy extended through time, a suffrage so universal that it includes not only the living but the dead… Tradition gives the vote not only to ourselves but to our ancestors."
Reading these words by G.K. Chesterton in Orthodoxy in 1960, when I was new to Christianity and gradually becoming a Catholic, I rejoiced at the realization that an ancient Church was as exciting as an ancient forest. Raised in a culture that worshipped newness and youth, I was beginning to appreciate those mystical explorers who went before me, mapping the geography of spiritual life, choreographing ritual, creating religious art and music.
In those days the Catholic liturgy was in many respects as it had been for centuries. While Low Mass was typically a quiet babble of hurriedly whispered prayer at which the congregation was a silent choir of witnesses, High Mass was often a revelation of beauty: priests celebrating in elaborate eucharistic vestments which had their origins in the clothing of imperial Rome, clouds of intoxicating incense rising from brass censers swinging with sleigh-bell sounds, whole congregations responding in Latin, choirs singing Gregorian chant that blew away modern music. Such Masses had the taste of eternity: the rituals so radically out of fashion that the curtains were lifted between past and present. Many received communion, though it was by no means automatic. Confession was a significant element of preparation and was often a healing experience.
Unfortunately Mass wasn’t always that good. Many priests went through the motions with occasional glances at their watches. The decay religious art had suffered in recent centuries scarred many churches, undermining the Liturgy. In many parishes, communion lines were short and the confessional a place in which condemnation outweighed forgiveness.
Remembering the old Liturgy and its environment at its worst rather than its best, I joined in the general chorus of approval when the changes instituted by the Second Vatican Council were introduced. At last Catholicism had arrived in the modern world. The words "new" and "improved" had been stamped not only on boxes of detergent but even on the Mass. In the decade following, I gradually became part of a new Catholic sub-culture that pushed liturgical experimentation still further, adding and subtracting from the ritual and calendar as if playing with a box of Legos.
Now a quarter century has passed. Several years ago I became Orthodox, joining a section of the universal Church in which there has been no substantial change in liturgical practice in centuries. Even the few areas of change are of a kind that has to do with tradition — such as each Orthodox Church building its Liturgy on the local language. But whether among Eskimos on the Aleutian islands in Alaska, Ugandans in central Africa, or Buryats beyond Lake Baikal in Siberia, the ritual is everywhere the same as it was a millennium ago.
What led me and so many others in recent years to make our religious home in a section of Christianity that many still regard as a kind of museum?
Time
Orthodoxy is generous with time. An hour is never enough for collective worship. An hour-and-a-half to two hours is common; in Russia it can stretch to three hours. On Easter, six hours is normal, from before midnight until dawn. To the uninitiated, so many hours in church is torture. But to those who have escaped the fast-lane, such unhurriedness is bliss. It is much the same with public prayer as with a good meal in which the cooking and eating take hours. In Orthodoxy there is no "fast food," no Macdonalds liturgy. Litanies, several of them very much the same, are sung — everything is sung — in a most inefficient way, while we endlessly sing back, "Lord, have mercy." Why so much repetition? For the same reason that we are so inefficient in other crucial actions: eating, love-making, long walks — all those preferred activities in which the same actions and motions are repeated over and over again.
The time one enters in Orthodoxy doesn’t tick. It used to be I would glance at my watch, but as months and then years passed, the strangeness became less strange, my preoccupation with keeping track of time evaporated. Time in church became something like time walking along the banks of a stream in the mountains.
Orthodox time isn’t box-shaped. We are used to events that start at precise moments, "on time," going on as a light switch goes on and maintaining a certain steady velocity, and then, again "on time," go off with an almost audible click. In Orthodoxy the Liturgy starts when confessions end and never on time. The transition into the Liturgy is like the rising of a wave or the slowly intensifying light of dawn. The Liturgy ends in a similar way, the time varying, the wave receding.
The re-integration of spiritual and physical activity
We live in a society in which in the connection between physical and spiritual activity is often cut, not least in church. Our spiritual life is often all in the head. Our bodies seem paralyzed.
In both east and west, there used to be neither chairs nor pews in church. The main posture of prayer was to stand. In the west, chairs were introduced. Chair-makers haven’t done nearly so well in the east. "Wisdom! Attend!" the deacon sings out periodically during the Orthodox Liturgy. Standing helps one remain attentive. Standing is also freer — one isn’t boxed in. Once you get used to it, it is a release from prison for children and better for adults, though there are a few benches for those who need them as well as the freedom to wander outside the church for fresh air or a moment of rest. (Seven years ago, when I sought a bishop’s blessing for a book I wanted to write about the Russian Orthodox Church, he warned me that I would have to do much more standing than Americans are used to: "The first hour is difficult, the second hour painful, but if you last until the third hour, God will give you wings." It has turned out that sometimes I get those wings, other times not. In any event I now find myself much preferring standing to sitting when I pray.)
The body language of Orthodoxy includes much use of the sign of the cross, a wordless amen that accompanies not only doxologies to the Holy Trinity but many other prayers. Often a small bow is combined with the action, a small but significant physical gesture of inner reverence.
The physical activities that accompany prayer are numerous. The light that illumines both icons and the church comes not from electric lamps but candles, each flame representing an act of prayer. The icons themselves are not only looked at but kissed. Occasionally the gesture is combined with touching the ground or floor — a reminder that the feet of Christ walked on this earth. If there is enough room it is customary (except during the season of Easter) for believers to prostrate themselves before the gifts on the altar after the consecration. The cross held by the priest during the final blessing is kissed by everyone.
Again and again, every bridge of the senses is used: the breathing in of incense, icons, candlelight and radiant eucharistic vestments for the eyes, constant singing for the ears.
Preparation for communion
When I started visiting churches in Russia, I was surprised that so few people received communion. I assumed the Russian Church was in the same benighted condition that had afflicted Catholicism until Pope Pius X began the long process of restoring the laity to full participation in the Eucharist. It took several years before I came to realize that the short communion lines in Russian churches did not necessarily prove that the iconostasis was a Berlin Wall between the altar and ordinary believers. Rather I became aware that many Orthodox people spend weeks, sometimes months, approaching the chalice. Confession, intensified prayer, attendance at Vespers the evening before receiving communion — these are frequent elements in Orthodox eucharistic life. Barring health requirements, there is a strict fast in the hours proceeding communion. (Exceptions occur. Earlier this year, on the Feast of the Holy Trinity, I was present at the first Liturgy celebrated at Akademgorodok near Novosibirsk in Siberia. Akademgorodok was a churchless town that was founded in the fifties by the Soviet Academy of Sciences. In no Russian town is there a higher proportion of people with graduate degrees. Despite the fact that the event was out of doors and under heavy rain, with only the altar protected by a temporary shelter, hundreds took part in the lengthy service. The atmosphere of the Liturgy was so extraordinary that, by the time of communion, many approached the chalice even though they had not prepared for it. Chalice in hand, the celebrant heard their confessions one by one, each confession ending in communion. It was a day when many who had once been baptized but had long been estranged from the Church returned to sacramental life. Many tears - tears of both repentance and joy — were mixed with the rain.)
Repentance and forgiveness
To attempt union with Christ while refusing to be reconciled with others is to turn the Eucharist into a sacrament of disconnection. Response to Jesus’ demand that one must be reconciled with others before approaching the altar (Mt 5:23) has profoundly influenced Orthodox sacramental life. Especially on Saturday nights after Vespers and Sunday mornings before the Liturgy, there will be many coming to confession. This occurs not in a confessional closet but in the front of the church, with the priest and penitent standing side by side in front of a Gospel book and cross and usually before the icon on the Mother of God and the Christ child. Often the priest will quietly whisper the Jesus prayer as he listens. Typically, the content of confession is shaped by the Sermon on the Mount, the opening verses of which are known by heart to Orthodox believers as the Beatitudes (seen as a summary of Jesus’ teaching) are sung during Liturgy when the Gospel book is carried in procession through the congregation.
In the Russian Church, there is a remarkable event that follows the Liturgy on the Sunday before Lent begins. Standing before the congregation, the priest confesses his sins as pastor and begs the forgiveness of those present. If he is married, as is usually the case, the first to approach him after the deacon is his wife. His confession continues privately. She forgives him and then confesses privately to him, receiving his forgiveness. One by one each member of the church comes to the pastor, and then to every other member of the church, continuing the process of confession and forgiveness. Forgiveness Sunday, as it is called, is one of the immense treasures of Russian Christianity, profoundly shaping the Lenten pilgrimage toward Easter, and at the same time healing many wounds that have accumulated during the year in each parish. May Forgiveness Sunday one day become a practice throughout the Church.
The place of children
One of the remarkable sayings of Jesus was that his adult disciples should not impede children who wanted to come to him: "Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them." I came to appreciate this teaching more and more as I struggled to explain to my young children why they were not allowed to receive communion in the several Catholic parishes we attended before being absorbed into Orthodoxy. How upset, in one case how angry, they were to be excluded from communion during the early years of their lives. Only in the past decade did I come to realize that this custom of western Christianity, both Catholic and Protestant, is of late origin, revealing our western preoccupation with achieving the "age of reason." But Christianity is not only for the articulate, the intelligent, the educated, but also for the newborn, the senile, the slow and forever childlike members of society. (Perhaps one could say that Orthodoxy is itself a retarded form of Christianity, that is slow, not in a hurry, dramatically failing to keep up with the times.) In an Orthodox church children, even very young ones, have a particularly privileged place. More important, they may be the only weekly communicants. The Church sees them as not yet having become enemies to themselves, unlike those of us who have clearly reached the age of reason.
A climate of compassion
Sometimes I describe Orthodoxy and Catholicism as being like similar highways except that the Orthodox road is without police cars. Oddly enough, the Orthodox traffic moves slower despite the absence of police. It is a difference less in doctrine and ecclesiastical structure (Orthodoxy lacks a Holy Office) than climate. The climate of Orthodoxy has about it the sweet smell of God’s mercy.
One sees this in areas where precept is similar but pastoral practice different. Like Catholicism, Orthodoxy emphasizes marriage as an indissoluble sacramental union, yet the Church will bless second and even third marriages. Nor does the process require a remote bureaucratic mechanism resulting in an annulment sealed in Rome but occurs in the intimate pastoral framework of the parish and diocese.
Conciliarity
The western word for the central church of a diocese is cathedral, from the Latin word for chair: literally the place where the bishop sits. In Russian the equivalent word is sobor, from the word for council. The cathedral’s decisive function is to provide a place for councils. At council the bishop presides but does not rule. Just as the Holy Spirit at Pentecost descended on the disciples gathered in the Upper Room, so does the Holy Spirit speak to the Church not through individual bishops or even through assemblies of clerics but through Councils where representatives of the Church — both clerical and lay — are gathered together. No bishop in Orthodoxy, including the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, has an authority similar to that which was gradually acquired by the Bishop of Rome. While Orthodoxy is quite willing to concede to the Peter’s heir the highest place of honor, it sees no bishop as having a role similar to that of a monarch or autocrat. Rather it sees its bishops as members of the community of believers who have special pastoral tasks but who are not uniquely equipped to discern the voice of the Holy Spirit.
The masculine-feminine balance
While every Church, like every society, is scarred by male chauvinism, I find a better balance between the masculine-feminine polarities in Orthodoxy. This is so despite the fact that that men and women are not seen as playing inter-changeable parts. Perhaps it has to do with conciliarity; both men and women participate in Church Councils. Perhaps it is because the great majority of pastors are (as were the Apostles) married: celibacy is revered but isn’t a pre-condition for priesthood. There is also the fact that women normally play crucial roles in parish leadership. Perhaps the difference also is influenced by devotion to Mary, the Theotokos, the God-bearer, whose icons and feast-days shine so brightly in Orthodox life.
Restoring western Christianity
Despite the many heavy blows that have been suffered in the Orthodox world, the eastern Church has experienced much less division than occurred within western Christianity. There was no Reformation or Counter-Reformation nor further splintering of churches that eventually estranged so many from the Church in all its segments, so many of which seemed as merciless as sword-wielding armies.
The division of the eastern and western Church occurred so many centuries ago that the eastern Church was nearly forgotten in the west. Time passed. Our western churches changed dramatically, not necessarily for the better. Now we are in the early decades of the rediscovery of our relatives, fellow members of the Body of Christ who at first may impress us as being living relics. Yet now they are beginning to open certain doors of renewal for us as we struggle to overcome the aridity we often suffer within the western Church. Increasingly we place reproductions of Orthodox icons in our parishes and homes and learn not to look at these as primitive paintings but rather as places in which we can pray more easily. Gradually we are discovering that, in doing this, we have not so much gone east but rather gone deeper into our own tradition. What we find in the east we find in the west, except that in the west it has been buried, like good frescoes which were painted over by poor frescoes until we were so appalled at the graceless art on the walls that we only wanted to paint the corrupted walls white. Now what was lost or plastered over begins to come back to life. It is a kind of Easter that promises much for Christianity in both east and west. An ancient estrangement is ending.
Pope John Paul II has said that he will consider his papacy to have failed if, by the year 2000, the eastern and western churches remain divided. What a joy it would be if, during the first Easter of the coming Millennium, we Christians could sing with one voice and one heart the Resurrection hymn, "Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tomb bestowing life."
source:
Will the 21st Be the Orthodox Century?
Fascination with the Great Tradition may signal deep changes for both evangelicals and the Orthodox.
by Bradley Nassif
Jaroslav Pelikan, the late professor of history at Yale University, wrote of the Christian tradition on a scale that no one else attempted in the 20th century. Then after nearly a lifetime of studying the history of doctrine, Pelikan, a lifelong Lutheran, was received into the Orthodox Church, just a few years before he died last May at age 82.
Pelikan is just one of a growing number of people who are joining the Eastern Orthodox Church. It makes me wonder if the 21st century will be the century of the Orthodox. Will there be a rebirth of the church's theological vision, if not its numerical growth? I'm not a prophet, nor do I want to evangelize evangelicals or reinvent Orthodox identity. But I would like to (a) offer a theological explanation for why I believe more and more Christians, especially evangelicals, may well be attracted to Orthodoxy in the 21st century, and (b) explain why more and more Orthodox need to become more evangelical.
I haven't merely thought about Orthodox and evangelical compatibility; for most of my life, I have lived it. I'm a Lebanese American who grew up in the Orthodox Church of Antioch and was transformed by Christ during my high school days in Wichita, Kansas, through the leading of evangelical friends. I did my doctoral studies under the late Orthodox theologian Fr. John Meyendorff. A portion of my scholarship over the past two decades has been devoted to introducing the Orthodox tradition to evangelical students and faculty in North America. I've also pioneered dialogues between Orthodox believers and evangelicals, and I have spoken on the subject at World Council of Churches meetings in Egypt and Germany.
Thus, I bring an intellectual and experiential knowledge of both communities, which is probably why I have a love/hate relationship with them. I'm not fully at peace with either one. Although I'm absolutely committed to the theological truth of the Orthodox church, I'm equally persuaded that we have not made that truth meaningful or accessible to our own parishioners or to those who peer inside our windows. And because of my Orthodoxy, I'm also committed to the evangelical faith.
The Rebirth of Orthodoxy
Scholars define the Great Tradition as the theological consensus of the first 500 to 1,000 years of Christian history (there is some disagreement on exact dates). This consensus encompasses the church's universally agreed upon creeds, councils, fathers, worship, and spirituality. Some key teachings and figures include the Nicene Creed, the Chalcedonian Definition, the works of Athanasius, the Cappadocian Fathers (Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Gregory of Nyssa), the spiritual writings of monks like Anthony of Egypt, and certain biblical commentaries and pastoral works.
During the past two decades, mainline and evangelical scholars have rediscovered the creative relevance of the Christian East, with its insistence on the authority of the first 500 years of Christian teaching and practice. One recent sign of evangelical interest is Thomas Oden's The Rebirth of Orthodoxy: Signs of New Life in Christianity (HarperSanFrancisco, 2002), in which Oden uses the lowercase o in order to embrace all Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox Christians who adhere to the first 500 years of the Great Tradition. Oden sets forth six layers of evidence to show that there is, indeed, a widespread rekindling of "the orthodox spirit" at the dawn of the 21st century. These layers include:
(1) Personal transformation stories. The lives of ordinary Christians and leading academics who have been dramatically changed by the testimony of the classic tradition, including Jaroslav Pelikan and Richard Swinburne, who became Eastern Orthodox, and Robert Wilken and Richard John Neuhaus, who joined the Catholic church.
(2) Faithful scriptural interpretation. Patristic methods of exegesis are receiving more attention now than at any time during the previous century. They are fast becoming a core concern of biblical studies, as evidenced by the growing number of ancient translations and commentaries being made widely available by publishing companies such as InterVarsity, Baker, and Eerdmans.
(3) The multicultural nature of orthodoxy. No modern multiculturalism is as deep or fertile as the ecumenical multiculturalism of antiquity. The cross-cultural richness of the early church is becoming increasingly evident today.
(4) Well-established doctrinal boundaries. After decades of uncritical permissiveness in the church, we are now witnessing a renewed energy for drawing boundaries around questions of religious truth. Thousands of the faithful are together relearning how to say no to heresy on behalf of a greater yes for the truth of classical orthodoxy.
(5) Ecumenical roots reclaimed. Confessing and renewing movements in Protestantism are changing local congregations and even entire denominations.
(6) Rise of a new ecumenism. Actually, what we're seeing is a revival of the ancient ecumenical method of theological decision-making set forth by Vincent Lerins: "We hold to that which has been believed everywhere, always, and by all." Laypeople can easily grasp this, and they are doing so.
Organically Connected
The problem with the usual Protestant approach to the Great Tradition, however, is the gaps and inconsistencies in retrieval efforts. To many, the Great Tradition is like a library, a place you go to pick out the books you find most helpful. You can discard the ones that no longer seem relevant, while choosing the ones that have proven to be of lasting value.
So what makes me think that this renewed interest in the Great Tradition may lead to more Christians joining Eastern Orthodoxy, or at least embracing its theological vision? Simply put, I think more and more people will recognize the vital relationship between the major movements and themes of Christian antiquity and the organic life of the Eastern Orthodox Church from whence these themes came.
In two areas, especially, the Orthodox church has maintained its unbroken succession with Christian antiquity, and these areas are particularly attractive to an increasing number of Christians.
Scripture. We all agree that the Spirit's witness through the Bible is the main criterion of the church's faith. Tradition simply witnesses to, safeguards, and corrects itself by the integrity of the biblical message. But it was the churches of the early centuries (both East and West) that decided, piecemeal, which texts constituted the canon of Scripture, by virtue of their apostolic origin and wide acceptance within the worshiping community. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the Spirit embraced the believing community through the choosing of the canon, rather than that the church chose the canon. Still, the canon was composed within the context of the believing community by members of the church. Scripture was never "external" to the believing community. This does not mean that Scripture owes its authority to the church, but that the Spirit was inseparably united to the church and its sacred texts. The church functioned as the mediating authority that bore witness to the work of God within it.
So whether they are aware of it or not, every time evangelicals pick up their Bibles, they are relying on the historic church's judgment on the colossal issue of canonicity! Without acknowledging it, evangelicals validate the authority of the Spirit-led tradition in determining canonicity. That same Spirit-led tradition has governed the Orthodox church over the centuries.
I believe an increasing number of people fascinated with the early church will see that the Spirit, the Bible, tradition, and real, historical, identifiable churches are inseparably united, then as now.
Historical continuity. I imagine that the deeper evangelicals delve into church history, the less they will confine the meaning of "orthodoxy" to the first 500 or 1,000 years. They will come to embrace the "whole story" of the faithful, not just the parts they personally like. They will discover that the fullness of Christian orthodoxy does not end with a date in the history books, but lives on in what Georges Florovsky called "the mind of the church" and what John Meyendorff described as the church's "living tradition." Evangelicals will see that the theological and institutional history of the Great Tradition is directly tied to the Great Church—namely, the contemporary Orthodox churches of the Middle East, Greece, Russia, Eastern Europe, and their children in the West. They will recognize that today's "rebirth of orthodoxy" cannot do justice to classical Christian faith without keeping it connected to the church that most fully produced and inherited its achievements. Few will dispute the historical continuity between the modern Patriarchate of Antioch, for example, and the Book of Acts.
Of course, faithfulness to the truth of the Great Tradition, not organizational continuity, is what counts most. My point is simply that those who value classical faith will increasingly engage with Orthodox churches, which incarnate the Great Tradition day by day as a living tradition. I'm not arguing that the Great Tradition is the exclusive property of the Eastern Orthodox Church. It is not. Early church fathers, mothers, ascetics, councils, creeds, art, music, and spirituality are the rightful heritage of all orthodox Christians—Catholics, Protestants, and Orthodox alike. There is no room here for Orthodox triumphalism or romanticism. All orthodox believers share a common ecumenical heritage. But few historians would dispute the conclusion that in comparison to the 20,000 Protestant denominations in existence today, the Orthodox community can most justifiably claim to be the fullest heir apparent of the Great Tradition.
Evangelical Orthodoxy
At the same time, my evangelical passions prompt me to suggest that this renewed fascination with the Great Tradition may indirectly revive Orthodoxy. And if it doesn't, it should. Little by little, our parishioners are being touched by evangelicals who are rediscovering the creative relevance of the Christian East and repackaging it far more attractively than we have been doing for ourselves.
But revival will not happen automatically. Dialogue at the local church level will help, even if evangelicals learn more from the Orthodox than the Orthodox are willing to learn from evangelicals. The time has come for us Orthodox to rediscover the evangelical character of our faith on its own terms, not defined by using some form of the model of evangelicalism. Because of our maximalist vision of theology, our evangelical identity will look and act very differently than yours. I wouldn't exhort my Orthodox brethren to regain their evangelical focus as passionately as I do in lectures and articles if I didn't think they would respond, and thankfully they are doing so in increasing numbers.
So I suggest that the Great Tradition of our Great Church cuts both ways, and we ourselves are judged by it! Even if the gospel is formally a part of the life of the Orthodox church, as we believe, that does not mean our people have understood and appropriated its message. "Catholicity" (i.e., "the whole and adequate" expression of the faith) must be discerned and applied if the church is to be spiritually viable in today's world.
More and more Orthodox, as they study the Great Tradition, are admitting that our leaders and laity don't have a mature grasp of their own faith. They recognize that the church isn't free from ethnocentrism or religious bigotry, that it hasn't contextualized its faith and liturgy in the modern world, and that it hasn't figured out how to relate to unchurched people in North America (its converts consist mostly of disillusioned believers from other Christian traditions). More and more Orthodox, as they explore the early church afresh, see that there are parts of its ancient liturgies that seem to have no biblical justification and that we cannot simply regard the Reformation and the last millennium in the West as nothing more than a sideshow.
To be sure, there are countless cases of people whose spiritual lives are flourishing in vibrant Orthodox communities. Still, the most urgent need in world Orthodoxy is the need to engage in an aggressive "internal mission" of spiritual renewal and rededication of our priests and people to Jesus Christ. I know from experience that it's possible to be "religious, but lost." That's why all of us Orthodox—bishops, priests, and people—need to make the gospel crystal clear and absolutely central in our lives and in our parishes. We must constantly recover the personal and relational aspects of God in every life-giving action of the church. Naturally, if this happens, it will lead to a revival within Orthodoxy, which will cause the church to blossom in unprecedented ways.
Yes, these predictions and exhortations are speculative; they may never come to fruition as I hope and imagine. And I admit that my commitment to an evangelical Orthodoxy predisposes me to hope like this. That being said, I still see signs that suggest that these two great expressions of the Christian faith, the evangelical and the Orthodox, are gradually coming together in vision, if not in worship, and that the 21st century may be known as the Orthodox century.
Bradley Nassif is associate professor of biblical and theological studies at North Park University and is currently writing the Westminster Handbook to Eastern Orthodox Theology (Westminster John Knox, 2009). He is a member of the Antiochian Orthodox Church.
Copyright © 2006 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.
Related Elsewhere:
The Rebirth of Orthodoxy: Signs of New Life in Christianity is available from ChristianBook.com and other retailers.
Christian History & Biography's issues Eastern Orthodoxy, How We Got Our History, and How We Got Our Bible are available at Christianity Today Library.
Christianity Today articles on Orthodoxy and Evangelicalism and the Great Tradition include:
Why I'm Not Orthodox | An evangelical explores the ancient and alien world of the Eastern church. (January 6, 1997)
A Modest Proposal | Nine tasks egalitarians and complementarians can pursue. (November 2005)
Orthodox Unity | Autonomous Orthodoxy isn't an oxymoron. It's the fulfillment of a different kind of American dream. (July 1, 2004)
Don't Read the Bible 'Alone' | Christopher Hall talks about how evangelicals should approach the church fathers. (November 1, 2003)
The Tradition Temptation | Why we should still give Scripture pride of place (November 1, 2003)
The Young and the Restless | The next generation rediscovers orthodoxy (Books & Culture, May 1, 2003)
Debate: Where is the Evangelicals' Authority? (Re:generation Quarterly, April 1, 1997)
What is Eastern Orthodoxy Anyway? | The Eastern Orthodox faith is at the center of many of the millennial celebrations, but to many of our readers—specially the Western Protestants—it may be a mysterious, unknown quantity. (Christian History & Biography, April 1, 1988)
source: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/december/30.40.html
by Bradley Nassif
Jaroslav Pelikan, the late professor of history at Yale University, wrote of the Christian tradition on a scale that no one else attempted in the 20th century. Then after nearly a lifetime of studying the history of doctrine, Pelikan, a lifelong Lutheran, was received into the Orthodox Church, just a few years before he died last May at age 82.
Pelikan is just one of a growing number of people who are joining the Eastern Orthodox Church. It makes me wonder if the 21st century will be the century of the Orthodox. Will there be a rebirth of the church's theological vision, if not its numerical growth? I'm not a prophet, nor do I want to evangelize evangelicals or reinvent Orthodox identity. But I would like to (a) offer a theological explanation for why I believe more and more Christians, especially evangelicals, may well be attracted to Orthodoxy in the 21st century, and (b) explain why more and more Orthodox need to become more evangelical.
I haven't merely thought about Orthodox and evangelical compatibility; for most of my life, I have lived it. I'm a Lebanese American who grew up in the Orthodox Church of Antioch and was transformed by Christ during my high school days in Wichita, Kansas, through the leading of evangelical friends. I did my doctoral studies under the late Orthodox theologian Fr. John Meyendorff. A portion of my scholarship over the past two decades has been devoted to introducing the Orthodox tradition to evangelical students and faculty in North America. I've also pioneered dialogues between Orthodox believers and evangelicals, and I have spoken on the subject at World Council of Churches meetings in Egypt and Germany.
Thus, I bring an intellectual and experiential knowledge of both communities, which is probably why I have a love/hate relationship with them. I'm not fully at peace with either one. Although I'm absolutely committed to the theological truth of the Orthodox church, I'm equally persuaded that we have not made that truth meaningful or accessible to our own parishioners or to those who peer inside our windows. And because of my Orthodoxy, I'm also committed to the evangelical faith.
The Rebirth of Orthodoxy
Scholars define the Great Tradition as the theological consensus of the first 500 to 1,000 years of Christian history (there is some disagreement on exact dates). This consensus encompasses the church's universally agreed upon creeds, councils, fathers, worship, and spirituality. Some key teachings and figures include the Nicene Creed, the Chalcedonian Definition, the works of Athanasius, the Cappadocian Fathers (Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Gregory of Nyssa), the spiritual writings of monks like Anthony of Egypt, and certain biblical commentaries and pastoral works.
During the past two decades, mainline and evangelical scholars have rediscovered the creative relevance of the Christian East, with its insistence on the authority of the first 500 years of Christian teaching and practice. One recent sign of evangelical interest is Thomas Oden's The Rebirth of Orthodoxy: Signs of New Life in Christianity (HarperSanFrancisco, 2002), in which Oden uses the lowercase o in order to embrace all Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox Christians who adhere to the first 500 years of the Great Tradition. Oden sets forth six layers of evidence to show that there is, indeed, a widespread rekindling of "the orthodox spirit" at the dawn of the 21st century. These layers include:
(1) Personal transformation stories. The lives of ordinary Christians and leading academics who have been dramatically changed by the testimony of the classic tradition, including Jaroslav Pelikan and Richard Swinburne, who became Eastern Orthodox, and Robert Wilken and Richard John Neuhaus, who joined the Catholic church.
(2) Faithful scriptural interpretation. Patristic methods of exegesis are receiving more attention now than at any time during the previous century. They are fast becoming a core concern of biblical studies, as evidenced by the growing number of ancient translations and commentaries being made widely available by publishing companies such as InterVarsity, Baker, and Eerdmans.
(3) The multicultural nature of orthodoxy. No modern multiculturalism is as deep or fertile as the ecumenical multiculturalism of antiquity. The cross-cultural richness of the early church is becoming increasingly evident today.
(4) Well-established doctrinal boundaries. After decades of uncritical permissiveness in the church, we are now witnessing a renewed energy for drawing boundaries around questions of religious truth. Thousands of the faithful are together relearning how to say no to heresy on behalf of a greater yes for the truth of classical orthodoxy.
(5) Ecumenical roots reclaimed. Confessing and renewing movements in Protestantism are changing local congregations and even entire denominations.
(6) Rise of a new ecumenism. Actually, what we're seeing is a revival of the ancient ecumenical method of theological decision-making set forth by Vincent Lerins: "We hold to that which has been believed everywhere, always, and by all." Laypeople can easily grasp this, and they are doing so.
Organically Connected
The problem with the usual Protestant approach to the Great Tradition, however, is the gaps and inconsistencies in retrieval efforts. To many, the Great Tradition is like a library, a place you go to pick out the books you find most helpful. You can discard the ones that no longer seem relevant, while choosing the ones that have proven to be of lasting value.
So what makes me think that this renewed interest in the Great Tradition may lead to more Christians joining Eastern Orthodoxy, or at least embracing its theological vision? Simply put, I think more and more people will recognize the vital relationship between the major movements and themes of Christian antiquity and the organic life of the Eastern Orthodox Church from whence these themes came.
In two areas, especially, the Orthodox church has maintained its unbroken succession with Christian antiquity, and these areas are particularly attractive to an increasing number of Christians.
Scripture. We all agree that the Spirit's witness through the Bible is the main criterion of the church's faith. Tradition simply witnesses to, safeguards, and corrects itself by the integrity of the biblical message. But it was the churches of the early centuries (both East and West) that decided, piecemeal, which texts constituted the canon of Scripture, by virtue of their apostolic origin and wide acceptance within the worshiping community. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the Spirit embraced the believing community through the choosing of the canon, rather than that the church chose the canon. Still, the canon was composed within the context of the believing community by members of the church. Scripture was never "external" to the believing community. This does not mean that Scripture owes its authority to the church, but that the Spirit was inseparably united to the church and its sacred texts. The church functioned as the mediating authority that bore witness to the work of God within it.
So whether they are aware of it or not, every time evangelicals pick up their Bibles, they are relying on the historic church's judgment on the colossal issue of canonicity! Without acknowledging it, evangelicals validate the authority of the Spirit-led tradition in determining canonicity. That same Spirit-led tradition has governed the Orthodox church over the centuries.
I believe an increasing number of people fascinated with the early church will see that the Spirit, the Bible, tradition, and real, historical, identifiable churches are inseparably united, then as now.
Historical continuity. I imagine that the deeper evangelicals delve into church history, the less they will confine the meaning of "orthodoxy" to the first 500 or 1,000 years. They will come to embrace the "whole story" of the faithful, not just the parts they personally like. They will discover that the fullness of Christian orthodoxy does not end with a date in the history books, but lives on in what Georges Florovsky called "the mind of the church" and what John Meyendorff described as the church's "living tradition." Evangelicals will see that the theological and institutional history of the Great Tradition is directly tied to the Great Church—namely, the contemporary Orthodox churches of the Middle East, Greece, Russia, Eastern Europe, and their children in the West. They will recognize that today's "rebirth of orthodoxy" cannot do justice to classical Christian faith without keeping it connected to the church that most fully produced and inherited its achievements. Few will dispute the historical continuity between the modern Patriarchate of Antioch, for example, and the Book of Acts.
Of course, faithfulness to the truth of the Great Tradition, not organizational continuity, is what counts most. My point is simply that those who value classical faith will increasingly engage with Orthodox churches, which incarnate the Great Tradition day by day as a living tradition. I'm not arguing that the Great Tradition is the exclusive property of the Eastern Orthodox Church. It is not. Early church fathers, mothers, ascetics, councils, creeds, art, music, and spirituality are the rightful heritage of all orthodox Christians—Catholics, Protestants, and Orthodox alike. There is no room here for Orthodox triumphalism or romanticism. All orthodox believers share a common ecumenical heritage. But few historians would dispute the conclusion that in comparison to the 20,000 Protestant denominations in existence today, the Orthodox community can most justifiably claim to be the fullest heir apparent of the Great Tradition.
Evangelical Orthodoxy
At the same time, my evangelical passions prompt me to suggest that this renewed fascination with the Great Tradition may indirectly revive Orthodoxy. And if it doesn't, it should. Little by little, our parishioners are being touched by evangelicals who are rediscovering the creative relevance of the Christian East and repackaging it far more attractively than we have been doing for ourselves.
But revival will not happen automatically. Dialogue at the local church level will help, even if evangelicals learn more from the Orthodox than the Orthodox are willing to learn from evangelicals. The time has come for us Orthodox to rediscover the evangelical character of our faith on its own terms, not defined by using some form of the model of evangelicalism. Because of our maximalist vision of theology, our evangelical identity will look and act very differently than yours. I wouldn't exhort my Orthodox brethren to regain their evangelical focus as passionately as I do in lectures and articles if I didn't think they would respond, and thankfully they are doing so in increasing numbers.
So I suggest that the Great Tradition of our Great Church cuts both ways, and we ourselves are judged by it! Even if the gospel is formally a part of the life of the Orthodox church, as we believe, that does not mean our people have understood and appropriated its message. "Catholicity" (i.e., "the whole and adequate" expression of the faith) must be discerned and applied if the church is to be spiritually viable in today's world.
More and more Orthodox, as they study the Great Tradition, are admitting that our leaders and laity don't have a mature grasp of their own faith. They recognize that the church isn't free from ethnocentrism or religious bigotry, that it hasn't contextualized its faith and liturgy in the modern world, and that it hasn't figured out how to relate to unchurched people in North America (its converts consist mostly of disillusioned believers from other Christian traditions). More and more Orthodox, as they explore the early church afresh, see that there are parts of its ancient liturgies that seem to have no biblical justification and that we cannot simply regard the Reformation and the last millennium in the West as nothing more than a sideshow.
To be sure, there are countless cases of people whose spiritual lives are flourishing in vibrant Orthodox communities. Still, the most urgent need in world Orthodoxy is the need to engage in an aggressive "internal mission" of spiritual renewal and rededication of our priests and people to Jesus Christ. I know from experience that it's possible to be "religious, but lost." That's why all of us Orthodox—bishops, priests, and people—need to make the gospel crystal clear and absolutely central in our lives and in our parishes. We must constantly recover the personal and relational aspects of God in every life-giving action of the church. Naturally, if this happens, it will lead to a revival within Orthodoxy, which will cause the church to blossom in unprecedented ways.
Yes, these predictions and exhortations are speculative; they may never come to fruition as I hope and imagine. And I admit that my commitment to an evangelical Orthodoxy predisposes me to hope like this. That being said, I still see signs that suggest that these two great expressions of the Christian faith, the evangelical and the Orthodox, are gradually coming together in vision, if not in worship, and that the 21st century may be known as the Orthodox century.
Bradley Nassif is associate professor of biblical and theological studies at North Park University and is currently writing the Westminster Handbook to Eastern Orthodox Theology (Westminster John Knox, 2009). He is a member of the Antiochian Orthodox Church.
Copyright © 2006 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.
Related Elsewhere:
The Rebirth of Orthodoxy: Signs of New Life in Christianity is available from ChristianBook.com and other retailers.
Christian History & Biography's issues Eastern Orthodoxy, How We Got Our History, and How We Got Our Bible are available at Christianity Today Library.
Christianity Today articles on Orthodoxy and Evangelicalism and the Great Tradition include:
Why I'm Not Orthodox | An evangelical explores the ancient and alien world of the Eastern church. (January 6, 1997)
A Modest Proposal | Nine tasks egalitarians and complementarians can pursue. (November 2005)
Orthodox Unity | Autonomous Orthodoxy isn't an oxymoron. It's the fulfillment of a different kind of American dream. (July 1, 2004)
Don't Read the Bible 'Alone' | Christopher Hall talks about how evangelicals should approach the church fathers. (November 1, 2003)
The Tradition Temptation | Why we should still give Scripture pride of place (November 1, 2003)
The Young and the Restless | The next generation rediscovers orthodoxy (Books & Culture, May 1, 2003)
Debate: Where is the Evangelicals' Authority? (Re:generation Quarterly, April 1, 1997)
What is Eastern Orthodoxy Anyway? | The Eastern Orthodox faith is at the center of many of the millennial celebrations, but to many of our readers—specially the Western Protestants—it may be a mysterious, unknown quantity. (Christian History & Biography, April 1, 1988)
source: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/december/30.40.html
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
Parts of the Church The church is divided into four different sections. These sections are as follows. 1. The Holy Sanctuary (The Madbaha) ... -
In the Orthodox faith, the priest is granted the responsibility of performing the Holy Sacraments. There are seven sacraments in total. The... -
I found the following on another blog and thought some of you might find it helpful. It is one of the best descriptions on baking Prosphor...