'Metaphysically Unsettling' - A Brief Reflection on Black Friday

 

Dear Parish Faithful, 

There is something almost "metaphysically unsettling" about "Black Friday." Not sure of the status of Black Friday this year, but I will assume that it has many a consumer excited and raring to go. Since there is "nothing new under the sun" in our fallen world, here is an older reflection on this cultural/social phenomenon. 

The very name of this day has an ominous ring to it. It may just be the sheer "nakedness" of the open, unapologetic, unflinching - and idolatrous? - materialism that pervades the day. (The data reveals that a staggering multi-billion dollars are usually spent in less than twenty-four hours). 

Or, is it the sight of the steely determination of compulsive consumers camping out overnight before the store of their choice that offers that ever-enticing single word: Sale? 

Perhaps it is the frantic mayhem of the rush to the doors once they swing open like insatiable jaws leading into a modern-day Moloch awaiting to swallow its victims.

Could it be the unneighborly pushing and shoving for a product on the shelves or a place in the check-out line? How about an uneasy sense of potential violence hovering in the atmosphere if competitive tempers and nerves begin to fray? 

Perhaps it is more the rapid devolution, in a veritable "twinkling of an eye," from a day of peaceful thanksgiving, into a day of rampant consumerism that is nothing short of unnerving in its effect. (Once upon a time, this Friday after Thanksgiving was a day of rest and relaxation.) As if it is now that Thanksgiving Thursday has become a mere prelude to the Black Friday to follow. 

Or is it, finally, the disheartening havoc wrecked upon any vestigial remainder of "Christmas" that has miraculously continued to linger within our secular culture two millennia after our Savior's nativity in the flesh? We seem to be witnessing a juggernaut that continues to pick up speed and strength as it careens into an unrestricted future with no end in sight. 

 

There is "Great and Holy Friday" and now there is ... "Black Friday." 

Am I exaggerating? Please let me know. Of course, one can show the virtue of patience and simply wait until "Cyber Monday" in the quiet of one's own domicile. Not very certain that it will be spiritually healthier ... but it will be far less chaotic and perhaps even safer!

If only we loved God with the type of fervor displayed by our neighbors and co-citizens on Black Friday and rushed to the Church with such energy for the peaceful and prayerful services of this sacred Season!

What a witness to a spiritually-starving world we could make! But, alas, just when will that happen? Then again, with God all things are possible!

Special Guest Meditation: Reflections of a First-Time Pilgrim to a Monastery

 

Dear Parish Faithful and Friends in Christ,

Our parishioner, Jenny Harkins, spent a weekend in pilgrimage at the Holy Dormition Monastery in Rives Junction, MI, over November 12-14. I asked Jenny to please "write up" her experience, and she graciously agreed to do so. It is very lively and filled with many insights into the purpose and practice of the monastic life. Please spend the time to read it as we journey together towards the Lord's Nativity in the flesh.

 - Fr. Steven

_______ 

 

  

A Reflection on my First Pilgrimage to the Holy Dormition Orthodox Monastery

 

“Sow in me a knowledge of humility and an unrestrainable impetus for the steep journey towards You.”   

~ St. Isaac of Syria 

    Sweet Moses, I think I’m going to be sick! I realized as I stood, sweating profusely, in the dim, candlelit church Friday evening. I was two hours deep into a four hour vigil in honor of St. John Chrysostom, and was bitterly regretting my insulated long johns, wool socks and tight boots; the required head covering, face mask, skirt and sleeves were warm enough! Feeling nauseous, I slipped out of the service and ran to the Guest House to shed extra layers and drink some water, praying I would snap out of it and feel better! I felt a little disoriented and disappointed at my inability to connect to the flow of worship so far, though I had only arrived earlier that day. As I quickly tied the hiking boots I had brought for exploring the grounds, I received a most timely text announcing my soon-to-be goddaughter had just been born! The exclamation “Glory to God for all things!” below her beautiful picture! Praise the Lord, what a miracle! Energized by joy, I darted back to the church, marveling at how the Lord brought St. John Chrysostom’s famous words to life in such a personal and timely way! Something in my perspective shifted and I was able to gradually connect and pray more wholeheartedly  throughout the rest of the evening’s vigil. Hauntingly hesychastic, the ebb and flow of worship finally wooed my thoughts upward, releasing self-conscious distraction like sand bags from a hot air balloon.

    Of the two days I was able to spend at the Monastery, about fourteen hours were spent with the sisters and fellow pilgrims in church for various Akathists, Matins, 1st, 3rd, 6th, and 9th hours, Vespers, two Divine Liturgies and a Memorial service for the departed.  Every hour that passed in prayer, singing or silence, on my feet or face down in prostrations, I felt the tension of growth as I ignored my flesh and fought to focus and connect, to worship in spirit and truth.  In my pockets of  “down time” between services, I reflected on the intensity of presence practiced here by the sisters, not just physically, but their uncompromising spiritual commitment to cry out day and night in praise and petition on behalf of the world. I expected humility, wisdom, and grace, but was surprised and deeply inspired by their steadfast strength. They didn’t just sing beautifully unto the Lord, but with purpose and conviction. I enjoyed the thought of these gentle, lovely women as mighty beasts in the spiritual realm, relentlessly waging war against the powers of darkness and subduing the demonic powers by their prayer.  Psalm 149:6 came to mind, “Let the high praises of God be in their throats and two-edged swords in their hands.”

    The Monastery grounds were beautiful, even in the November grey, blustery and brooding with an early snow.  I explored the surrounding forest, invigorated by the wild dance of gusting leaves, like red and orange garments freely tossed from Eden trees, naked and unashamed. The scent of Kingdom coming, filling my lungs and lifting my heart.  I tucked in by the pond and offered the 9th Hour in solitude, wholeheartedly receiving and returning in praise. I also experienced a lot of peace sitting silently in the small, wooden St. Lazarus chapel near the cemetery. I found an Akathist for the Departed in the chapel and sang it over a dear friend’s brother buried there, moved by the compassion and humility of the prayers. I thought about Fr. Steven and Presvytera Deborah owning two plots there for the “some day,” and I felt the weight of the “already and not yet.”  The atmosphere is peaceful and there is a Pascha sense of hope and anticipation.

    As I packed my bag that snowy Sunday afternoon, my heart was full of gratitude for such a rich experience. I felt like I had inadvertently signed up for the “Deluxe Sampler” weekend, with extra Feast day services, a graveside Memorial Service, even meeting my first archbishop (Nathaniel)!  My fellow pilgrims who shared the Guest House accommodations felt like family even though we hailed from all over the US. Anastasia’s beautiful singing of hymns floated through the wall between us and blessed my pre-communion prayers before Liturgy. Our meals together were seasoned with testimonies of God’s movement in each of our stories.

            My one regret was not having connected with Mother Gabriella, the Abbess, before I left. I kept an eye out for her but we always seemed to be just missing each other. I asked the Lord to help connect us somehow if it was part of his will.  I was packing my last items when I heard the main door open and a cheery, Romanian voice call out, “Jenny, Jenny are you still here?” I bet the Lord laughed out loud at my face in that moment!  I was shocked! I couldn’t believe she had come looking for me! I jumped up and skidded out into the foyer with a big stupid grin on my face, assuring her I was here, chittering like a red-cheeked baboon in the presence of a lion! I forced myself to be cool and not blow this special moment, trying to talk less and listen more. She was kind and disarming, sharing stories and wisdom, discussing the questions I had hoped to ask her.  Her presence was so warm and refreshing and wishing to honor her time and let her go felt like leaving a bonfire on a cold winter’s night. I asked her for her blessing, which she graciously gave, and we parted ways, my heart brimming with joy.     

I’m still digesting the whole rich experience, a feast in many ways before this Nativity Fast. Having acclimated over the last several months to the more rigorous pace of Orthodox worship at church and at home, I approached the weekend in naive excitement, expecting an easy, restful, filling encounter with grand hopes of returning down the mountain, face shining like Moses, emanating the fragrance of Christ. It took less than one Festal Vigil for me to realize that the monastery was less of a garden of spiritual fruit for the picking, and more of a fiery furnace of prayer, kindled by the continual liturgia of the sisters. Strong, seasoned endurance athletes in the spiritual arena, gladiators with their eyes ever on the prize, ushering in the Kingdom in dogged devotion to their Master, their Beloved. Spiritual fruit abounded to be sure, in the beauty, humility, and hospitality of this place, and the glory glow of His presence was unmistakable in each of their faces, but it shone as the inevitable patina of lives weathered in the service of Love. I contemplated the ancient roots of these fiery prayer furnaces, stoked over the centuries by the blood, sweat and tears of vigilant prayer warriors. I was humbled and full of gratitude for my whole extended spiritual family across the ages who have given the gift of their lives, prayers and stories for the sake of Christ and his Bride.

    Driving home from the monastery, I felt energized and inspired, as if I had been a meteor pulled into their gravitational orbit and swung out, ignited in spirit by the atmosphere! Having gained momentum in joy and focus with each invitation to worship, my engine was revved and ready. I began thinking of ways I could be more prayerful and intentional at home, my own sphere of stewardship, where there’s plenty of opportunity to labor in love. I was encouraged by the sisters’ dedication to “lay aside all earthly cares,” and thought of a few ways I could simplify and re-focus my attention on “the one thing necessary.” The torch of my affections ablaze, I asked the Lord to show me more ways I could build a holy love for Him in my children, and the will to share this affection wholeheartedly with Rhett. Having life completely revolve around worshipping together built up my appetite and heart for more of that with our spiritual family at church.  I have so much to learn about praying without ceasing and practicing my spiritual priesthood in the sense of offering back each moment of life to the Lord in thanksgiving. My short time at the Monastery blessed me with a little more insight and the precious gift of experiencing it in fellowship with the sisters and fellow pilgrims there. I’m facing the trail ahead with muscles a little stronger, soul a little wiser and an expanded vision of what love can accomplish in Christ.     

“Blessed is the man whose strength is in You,  
Whose heart is set on pilgrimage.”

~ Psalm 84:5  

The Abundance of Our Possessions

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

 

"Take heed and beware of all covetousness; for a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possession." (LK. 12:15)

Icon of the Parable of the Rich Fool: He dines like a king at the table in the center, while servants build his new barns on the left. At right, an angel is seen coming to his deathbed to receive his soul.

 

There is hardly a Christian who would disagree with this teaching of the Lord, as expressed in the words above, when it comes to our relationship with the "abundance of our possessions." We know that our life does not "consist" in them. In other words, these very possessions do not, and simply cannot, impart genuine meaning and significance to our lives. These possessions are external to our inner being; for they cannot define us as human beings made "in the image and likeness of God." And we can say that without dismissing these possessions as just so much "mammon."

There are things that we need and there are things that we enjoy. Yet, I also cannot but arrive at the inescapable conclusion that even though we know this teaching to be true, we seem to pay such teaching just so much "lip service" because of the extent to which we are enamored and captivated (enslaved?) by "the abundance of our possessions!" Who is the person that can claim otherwise?

On one level - certainly not the highest! - our lives seem to be a steady progression of accumulating as much as possible, the only limit to this accumulation being imposed on us by the extent of our available resources. This means that the abundance - or at least the quality - of our possessions will increase as our access to "purchasing power" increases. (Thus, at Christmas, the extent and quality of the gifts that end up in the hands of children will depend upon the wealth - or lack of wealth - of their parents. Those who have will simply have more once Christmas comes and goes).

As Christians, then, we find ourselves in the awkward position, indicative of a genuine tension, of accepting our Lord's teaching about the dangers of accumulating possessions as true, and yet unable to arrest the desire and endeavor of adding to this abundance. The "consumer within" is a driving force indeed!

The Lord reveals the obviousness of His teaching about possessions through the Parable of the Rich Fool, found immediately after the words already cited above. (LK. 12:16-21) This parable is relatively short and to-the-point, so I will include it here in order to refresh our familiarity with it:

The land of a rich man brought forth plentifully; and he thought to himself, 'What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops? And he said, 'I will do this: I will pull down my barns, and build larger ones; that there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample good laid up for many years; take your ease, eat, drink, be merry.' But God said to him, "Fool! This night your soul is required of you; and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?' So is he who lays up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God."

 

Not only short and to-the-point, but almost brutal in its clarity and inescapable truthfulness: You can plan all you want, but death will cut short the most well-conceived plans with an unexpected finality that makes a mockery of those very plans. When death comes, the rich man's wealth is shown to be a worthless form of security for his "soul." (This parable always brings to my mind the words of Tevye the dairyman, who once mused that the more man plans the harder God laughs!).

The parable does not make a moral monster of the rich landowner. There is no hint of his being a particularly sinful person. Indeed, he is probably quite indicative of his "type:" at least outwardly decent and a man of status. And he may have attended his local synagogue with regularity. It is his preoccupation with "the abundance of his possessions" - "what shall I do;" "I will do this" - that renders him a "fool" in the judgment of God; a preoccupation that was self-centered in its orientation, culminating in a blindness that resulted in forgetfulness of God, instead of pursuing the meaningful task of striving to be "rich toward God." As a Jew guided by the Law, he had that opportunity but squandered it.  

His careful plans to build larger barns in order to accommodate his ever-increasing store of crops had the immediate impact of making life easier and enjoyable - a time to "eat, drink, and be merry." This, in turn, was a self-satisfying expansion and investment of his time and energy. In the process he pushed the inevitability of his death into a vague and perhaps far-off future. (The saints teach us that the "remembrance of death" is a key component of our spiritual lives, precisely to protect us from any such foolish forgetfulness). It is an attitude/temptation as alive today as it was in the time of Christ.

As real as the barns the landowner envisioned may have been, they are equally symbolic of a choice he made with the direction of his life. And this choice toward wealth proved to be quite costly. Is our present-day portfolio-building equivalent to the rich landowner's building of barns? Are we more preoccupied with becoming "rich toward God," or simply with becoming rich in the accumulation of our possessions? Will we have to suffer with being called a "fool" when that time comes?

Perhaps we can understand the rich landowner's pursuit of an abundance of possessions as an unconscious strategy toward finding and establishing a sense of security in life. 
We are all aware of the fragile nature of our lives, and the threats posed to our security on a host of fronts: poverty, illness, death itself. There is nothing quite so reassuring as the feeling of security that would protect us from such threats. While to feel insecure is a cause of great anxiety. Civilization and technology are built and developed to provide security for human beings in an insecure world.  

Thus, we find ourselves facing the same dilemma as the landowner of the parable in our own search for security; and often turning to the very means that he did in order to build up that ever-shifting sense of security: the accumulation of an "abundance of possessions." How ironic, though, that we tend to "secure our security" with the very means that cannot really provide it, while we neglect trying to get "rich toward God, the only true security!

As the biblical scholar Timothy Luke Johnson has written:

"It is out of deep fear that the acquisitive instinct grows monstrous. Life seems so frail and contingent that many possessions are required to secure it, even though the possessions are frailer still than the life"  (Gospel of Luke, p. 201). 

 

And, as another biblical scholar - Brendan Byrne - writes with a certain bluntness:

"Attachment to wealth is incompatible with living, sharing and celebrating the hospitality of God" (The Hospitality of God, p. 115).

 

The impact of the Parable of the Rich Fool is precisely in the choice with which the parable confronts us between two very different types of "security:" the abundance of our possessions, or being rich toward God. It seems like a simple choice - especially for Christians - but somehow it ends up being a good deal more complicated. We need to search our minds and hearts as to why this is true.

Christ did not deliver parables in order to entertain us with pleasant stories. Neither to simply edify us with a moral story that remains within our "comfort zone." The choice that the parable does confront us with demands a response - though it is possible that if we do not have "ears to hear," we can walk away from the parable with indifference. ("Let us attend!" always precedes the reading of the Holy Scriptures in church so as to focus our minds on the appointed readings).

Let us, however, assume that we do have "ears to hear." If, then, the parable shakes us out of the false sense of security that possessions may give us, we then have to reflect deeply on how to become "rich toward God."

Of course, we must begin by cultivating the gifts of God graciously bestowed on us: faith, hope and love. We can direct our prayer towards this. We need to un-hypocritically practice prayer, almsgiving and fasting.

We further immerse ourselves in the "words of the Word" - the holy Scriptures. It is essential that we confess our sins, and then wage a "spiritual warfare" against them. The possibilities within the grace-filled life of the Church are many indeed. We are neither predestined nor forced to avail ourselves of these possibilities. We must choose to do so, supported by the grace of God. This choice may very well determine whether or not, at the end of our lives, we will hear either "Fool!" or "Well-done, good and faithful servant." As Jesus often exclaimed: "He who has ears to hear, let him hear!"

*As a kind of footnote to the above, I would like to point to a tremendous story of great narrative power and psychological insight, that almost reads as an extended and artistic embodiment of this parable: Leo Tolstoy's "Master and Man." In the story the rich landowner of 1st c. Palestine is now re-conceived as a wealthy 19th c Russian landowner. His ultimate fate is rather terrifying. A great work of literature well worth the time and effort.

Forty Shopping (and Fasting) Days Until Christmas

Dear Parish Faithful,

The meditation presented here is found in my book in a somewhat longer version, but with the certainty that in some areas of life "there is nothing new under the sun" (and that shopping sprees before Christmas will assuredly be with us until the universe either burns or freezes), I thought it remains timely enough, especially for those who may not familiar with it.


Forty Shopping (and Fasting) Days Until Christmas


Dear Parish Faithful,

 

 

 

On November 15, we will observe the first day of the 40-day Nativity/Advent Fast, meant to prepare us for the advent of the Son of God in the flesh, celebrated on December 25. (The Western observance is from the four Advent Sundays before Christmas). For some/many of us this might very well catch us unaware and unprepared. However, as the saying goes, “it is what it is,” and so the church calendar directs us to enter into this sacred season next Monday. 

This indicates an intensification of the perennial “battle of the calendars” that every Orthodox Christian is engaged in consciously or unconsciously. The two calendars – the ecclesial and the secular – represent the Church and “the world” respectively. Often, there is an underlying tension between these two spheres. Because of that tension, I believe that we find ourselves in the rather peculiar situation of being ascetical and consumerist simultaneously. 

To fast, pray and be charitable is to lead a simplified life that is based around restraint, a certain discipline and a primary choice to live according to the principles of the Gospel in a highly secularized and increasingly hedonistic world. That is what it means to be ascetical. It further means to focus upon Christ amidst an ever-increasing amount of distractions and diversions. Even with the best of intentions and a firm resolve that is not easy! From our historical perspective of being alive in the twenty-first century, and leading the “good life” where everything is readily available, practicing any form of voluntary self-restraint is tantamount to bearing a cross. Perhaps fulfilling some modest goals based on the Gospel in today’s world, such as it is, amounts to a Christian witness, unspectacular as those goals may be. 

The Church directs us to fast before we feast... Can we develop some 'domestic strategies' that will give us the opportunity to put that into practice to at least some extent?

 

Yet, as our society counts down the remaining shopping days until Christmas; and as our spending is seen as almost a patriotic act of contributing to the build-up of our economy; and as we want to “fit in” – especially for the sake of our children – we also are prone (or just waiting) to unleashing the “consumer within” always alert to the joys of shopping, spending and accumulating. When you add in the unending “entertainment” that is designed to create a holiday season atmosphere, it can all get rather overwhelming.

 

Certainly, these are some of the joys of family life, and we feel a deep satisfaction when we surround our children with the warmth and security that the sharing of gifts brings to our domestic lives. Perhaps, though, we can be vigilant about knowing when “enough is enough;” or even better that “enough is a feast.” An awareness — combined with sharing — of those who have next to nothing is also a way of overcoming our own self-absorption and expanding our notion of the “neighbor.”

What we are essentially trying to maintain is our identity as Orthodox Christians within the confines of a culture either indifferent or hostile to Christianity.

Therefore, to be both an ascetic and a consumer is indicative of the challenges facing us as Christians in a world that clearly favors and “caters” to our consumerist tendencies. To speak honestly, this is a difficult and uneasy balance to maintain. How can it possibly be otherwise, when to live ascetically is to restrain those very consumerist tendencies?

I believe that what we are essentially trying to maintain is our identity as Orthodox Christians within the confines of a culture either indifferent or hostile to Christianity. If the Church remains an essential part of the build-up toward Christmas, then we can go a long way in maintaining that balance. Although I do not particularly like putting it this way, I would contend that if the church is a place of choice that at least “competes” with the mall, then that again may be one of the modest victories in the underlying battle for our ultimate loyalty that a consumerist Christmas season awakens us to.

The Church directs us to fast before we feast. Does that make any sense? Do we understand the theological/spiritual principles that is behind such an approach? Can we develop some 'domestic strategies' that will give us the opportunity to put that into practice to at least some extent? Do we care enough?

The final question always returns us to the question that Jesus asked of his initial disciples:  “Who do you say that I am?” If we confess together with St. Peter that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, then we know where we stand as the “battle of the calendars” intensifies for the next forty days.

The Church calendar indicates the nature of the Nativity Fast. If I can be of any pastoral assistance in helping you formulate that "domestic strategy" referred to above, then please do not hesitate to contact me.

Image of a True Disciple: The Gadarene Demoniac

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,      One of the most challenging narratives in the Gospels has to be the healing of the Gadarene demoniac (Mk. 5:1-20; MATT. 8:28-34; LK. 8:26-39). This dramatic event which reveals the power of Christ over the demons will appear to the 21st c. mind as either archaic or even primitive. We may listen with respect and sing "Glory to Thee, O Lord, glory to Thee!" upon the completion of the reading, but "wrapping our minds" around such a narrative may leave us baffled if not shaking our heads.  The spectacle of a man possessed by many demons, homeless and naked, living among the tombs, chained so as to contain his self-destructive behavior is, to state the obvious, not exactly a sight that we encounter with any regularity. (Although we should acknowledge that behind the walls of certain institutions, we could witness to this day some horrible scenes of irrational and frightening behavior from profoundly troubled and suffering human beings). Add to this a herd of swine blindly rushing over a steep bank and into a lake to be drowned, and we must further recognize the strangeness of this event. This is all-together not a part of our world! Yet, there is no reason to doubt the veracity of the narrated event, which does appear in three of the Gospels, though with different emphases and details - in fact there are two demoniacs in St. Matthew's telling of the story! It is always instructive to compare the written account of a particular event or body of teaching when found in more than one Gospel. This will cure us of the illusion of a wooden literalism as we will discover how the four evangelists will present their gathered material from the ministry of Jesus in somewhat different forms. As to the Gadarene demoniac, here was an event within the ministry of Christ that must have left a very strong impression upon the early Church as it was shaping its oral traditions into written traditions that would eventually come together in the canonical Gospels. This event was a powerful confirmation of the Lord's encounter and conflict with, and victory over, the "evil one." The final and ultimate consequence of that victory will be revealed in the Cross and Resurrection. Whatever our immediate reaction to this passage - proclaimed last Sunday during the Liturgy from the Gospel According to St. Luke (8:26-39) - I believe that we can recognize behind the dramatic details the disintegration of a human personality under the influence of the evil one, and the reintegration of the same man's personhood when healed by Christ. Here was a man that was losing his identity to a process that was undermining the integrity of his humanity and leading to physical harm and psychic fragmentation. I am not in the process of offering a psychological analysis of the Gadarene demoniac because, 1) I am ill-equipped to do so; and 2) I do not believe that we can "reduce" his horrible condition to psychological analysis. We are dealing with the mysterious presence of personified evil and the horrific effects of that demonic presence which we accept as an essential element of the authentic Gospel Tradition. The final detail that indicates this possessed man's loss of personhood is revealed in the dialogue between himself and Jesus: Jesus then asked him, "What is your name?" And he said, "Legion"; for many demons had entered him. (8:30)   To be named in the Bible is to receive a definite and irreducible identity as a person. It is to be "someone" created in the "image and likeness of God." It is the role of the evil one to be a force of disintegration. The "legion" inhabiting the man reveals the loss of his uniqueness, and the fragmentation of his personality. Such a distorted personality can no longer have a "home," which is indicative of our relational capacity as human beings, as it is indicative of stability and a "groundedness" in everyday reality. The poor man is driven into the desert, biblically the abode of demons.  Once again, we may stress the dramatic quality of this presentation of a person driven to such a state, but would we argue against this very presentation as false when we think of the level of distortion that accompanies any form of an "alliance" with evil -whether "voluntary or involuntary?" Does anyone remain whole and well-balanced under the influence of evil? Or do we rather not experience or witness a drift toward the "abyss"? Then we hear a splendid description of the man when he is healed by Christ! For we hear the following once the demons left him and entered into the herd of swine and self-destructed (the ultimate end of all personal manifestations of evil?): Then the people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus, and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. (8:35)   "Sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind." This is clearly one of the most beautiful descriptions of a Christian who remains as a true disciple of the Master. This is the baptized person who is clothed in a "garment of salvation" and who is reoriented toward Christ, the "Sun of Righteousness."  The image here is of total reintegration, of the establishment of a relationship with Christ that restores integrity and wholeness to human life. Also an image of peacefulness and contentment. Our goal in life is to "get our mind right" which describes repentance or that "change of mind" that heals all internal divisions of the mind and heart as it restores our relationship with others. Jesus commands the man "to return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you" (8:39). We, too, have been freed from the evil one "and all his angels and all his pride" in baptism. In our own way, perhaps we too can also proclaim just how much Jesus has done for us (cf. 8:39).

In a post-Christian world are we being catechized by the culture or by the Church?

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

"Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matt. 6:21)

cat~e~chize - fr. Gk katechein to teach, lit. to din into, fr. kata + echein to resound. (Merriam Webster's College Dictionary)

 

I have been reading an article entitled "The Evangelical Church is Breaking Apart," by Peter Wehner, a self-described Christian. It is a rather devastating critique of the Evangelical Christian churches in North America and their heavy politicization, especially in the last year and-a-half or so. It sounds quite convincing, as the author has compiled his critique from very diverse sources, most of them from within the Evangelical churches, primarily from dispirited pastors. In fact, Wehner reports that "the Christian polling firm Barna Group found that 29 percent of pastors said that they had given "real, serious consideration to quitting being in full-time ministry within the last year." The following passage from his article can serve as an example of what Wehner is claiming about the effect of "politics" on various Evangelical churches:

 

The root of the discord lies in the fact that many Christians have embraced the worst aspects of our culture and politics. When the Christian faith is politicized, churches become repositories not of grace but of grievances, places where tribal identities are reinforced, where fears are nourished, and where aggression and nastiness are sacralized. The result is not only wounding the nation; it's having a devastating impact on the Christian faith.

 

Wehner summarizes the analysis of an evangelical pastor, Scott Dudley, as follows:

 

He’s heard of many congregants leaving their church because it didn’t match their politics, he told me, but has never heard once of someone changing their politics because it didn’t match their church teaching.

 

However, within this article, Wehner also raises the issue of what he terms "cultural catechism." He contends that Christians are being endlessly "catechized" through a seemingly vast network of social media. Catechized here means being subjected to a steady drone of provocative opinions that encompasses the "cultural wars" and social and political positions, many of which are characterized by fear-mongering, anger and rancor. 

 

 

 I would like to share just a few key passages from this article, because though directed to the Evangelical churches, we as Orthodox face the same challenges and temptations, as we are just as much a part of mainstream America. I am less interested in the more openly political issues that Wehner raises - and these are intense and divisive - but rather I want to briefly explore what he means by "cultural catechism." 

At one point in the article, Wehner writes that according to James Ernest, the vice president and editor in chief at Eerdmans, a publisher of religious books:

What we're seeing is a massive discipleship failure caused by massive catechesis failure. The evangelical Church in the U.S. over the last five decades has failed to form its adherents into disciples. So there is a great hollowness. All that was needed to cause the implosion that we have seen was a sufficiently provocative stimulus. And that stimulus came.

 

He then writes that according to Alan Jacobs, distinguished professor of humanities in the honors program at Baylor University: "Culture catechizes."

Wehner goes on to summarize what Jacob means, by saying:

 

Culture teaches us what matters and what views we should take about what matters. Our current political culture, has multiple technologies and platforms for catechizing - television, radio, Facebook, Twitter, and podcasts among them. People who want to be connected to their political tribe - the people they think are like them, the people they think are on their side - subject themselves to its catechesis all day long, every single day, hour after hour.

On the flip side, many churches aren't interested in catechesis at all. They focus instead on entertainment, because entertainment is what keeps people in their seats and coins in the offering plate. But as Jacob points out, even those pastors who really are committed to catechesis get to spend, on average, less than an hour a week teaching their people. Sermons are short. Only some churchgoers attend adult-education classes, and even fewer attend Bible Study and small groups. Cable news, however, is always on. So if people are getting one kind of catechesis for half an hour per week, and another for dozens of hours per week, which one do you think will win out?

This is true of both the Christian left and the Christian right," Jacobs said. "People come to believe what they are most thoroughly and intensively catechized to believe, and that catechesis comes not from the churches but from the media they consume, or rather the media that consumes them. The churches have barely better than a snowball's chance in hell of shaping people's lives.

 

At one point, Wehner quotes the distinguished Evangelical historian Mark Noll. This historian warns that, “…the broader evangelical population has increasingly heeded populist leaders who dismiss the results of modern learning from whatever source."

And Wehner summarizes this in the following manner:

 

What we're dealing with - not in all cases, of course, but in far too many - is political identity and cultural anxieties, anti-intellectualism and ethnic nationalism, resentments and grievances, all dressed up as Christianity.

 

Orthodoxy is about a lifetime of ongoing catechesis, which in turn imparts a worldview grounded in the Christ-centered vision of life that we call Gospel or "Good News." Our Orthodox Church is supremely equipped to provide the very ecclesial catechesis that Peter Wehner is desperately advocating for. The question then, is this: In a post-Christian world are we being catechized by the culture or by the Church?

As Christ said: "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matt. 6:18) 

 

To be continued:  

What the Church offers (on a parish level) as genuine Christian catechesis and how we can avail ourselves of it.