The Cost of Conforming

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

At the beginning of his “pastoral” teaching in ch. 12 of his Epistle to the Romans, the Apostle Paul delivers an admonition that is timeless in its challenge for serious-minded Christians:

Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Rom. 12:2) 

Loosely defined, to conform is to “take on the form,” or “to be like” someone or something; or to “fit in” in a manner that does not draw any attention to oneself. It seems as if most of us – Christians and non-Christians - are conformists by nature. We feel uneasy about standing out, or doing things that would be considered too “different.” Since the Church is not a “cult,” Christians are not expected to practice a kind of non-conformity in the everyday aspects of life that would make them seem eccentric or socially disengaged. We find this expressed as early as the 2nd century in the document known as The Epistle to Diognetus. This rather charming work, anonymously written, contains a passage that addresses some issues tied to the theme of conformity (and Christian non-conformity). In reading this passage, one is reminded of the general principle of being in, but not of, the world:

For the distinction between Christians and other men, is neither in country nor language nor customs ... Yet while living in Greek and barbarian cities, according as each obtained by his lot, and following local customs, both in clothing and food and in the rest of life, they show forth the wonderful and confessedly strange character of the constitution of their own citizenship. They dwell in their own fatherlands, but as if sojourners in them; they share all things as citizens, and suffer all things as strangers. Every foreign country is their fatherland, and every fatherland is a foreign country. they marry as all men, they bear children, but they do not expose their offspring. They offer hospitality, but guard their purity. Their lot is cast “in the flesh,” but they do not live “after the flesh.” They pass their time upon the earth, but they have their citizenship in heaven. (Epistle to Diognetus, v.)

 

In other words, the early Christians were quite willing to share the same “lifestyles” as their pagan neighbors, at least on the surface level of day-to-day existence. However, when faced with some contemporary practices that may have been legal and acceptable, but unacceptable from the vision of life in the Church, for the most part the early Christians chose the “higher law” of the Gospel. This prevented our spiritual ancestors from being too far drawn into a morally and ethically compromised way of life.

Yet what happens when our innocent conformity lacks a sense of balance? Or when we become excessive or even obsessive in our desire toward “conforming to this world?” What does it mean if our overall consumerism leaves us spiritually exhausted in pursuit of the “American dream?” This everyday type of  “conforming to this world” can further spill into areas of a moral and ethical concern; as when we defend an ideology or political party that is contrary to the Gospel that respects human life from conception to the grave, gender and racial equality, the poor and needy, and peacemakers instead of warmongers.

How much time, talent or treasure remains in order to practice Christian stewardship when so much is poured into this world beyond our basic needs? In satisfying our desire to conform to this world, are we reduced to offering our “leftovers” to the Church - in terms of time, talent and treasure -  treating the Church in the process as a marginal attraction in comparison with the world?

It is hard to reign all of that in once it has taken on a life of its own and we are (hopelessly?) caught up into it. If we can practice a form of “critical conformity” in which we carefully assess and discern our cumulative choices, then we can truly be in the world, but free of "worldliness" to a meaningful degree. This becomes possible when we “renew our minds” by “conforming” them to the image of Christ. To conform to the “mind of Christ” is to avoid conforming to “this world” in a conscious and deliberate manner. An internal non-conformity slowly develops that sharpens our vision concerning the relationship between the Church and the fallen world.

The renewal of our mind (the Gk. word is nous, often translated as "spiritual intellect") can be approached in a variety of ways. Here is what the great biblical exegete, Origen (+254) said about this renewal of mind:

Our mind is renewed by the practice of wisdom and reflection on the Word and the spiritual understanding of his law. The more one reads the Scriptures daily and the greater one's understanding is, the more one is renewed always and every day. I doubt whether a mind which is lazy toward the holy Scriptures and the exercise of spiritual knowledge can be renewed at all. (Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans)

 

And as to "the perfect will of God," included in Rom. 12:2, St. Gregory of Nyssa wrote the following:

The perfect will of God is that the soul be changed by reverence, having been brought to the full flower of its beauty by the grace of the Spirit, which attends to the suffering of the person who undergoes this change. (On the Christian Mode of Life)

 

As members of the Body of Christ, we are all in this struggle together - clergy and laity. Beside the wonder and beauty that world presents us with on a daily basis, there is also the fallen side of "this world" manifested in sin and the rejection of God. It is the fallen aspect of "this world" that the Apostle Paul is exhorting us not to conform to. In other words, there exists a "holy non-conformity" that, by renewing our minds, will grant us the vision of the world's beauty, but protect us from "the prince of this world." (Jn. 14:30)  

The Apostle Paul knew the cost of “conforming to this world.” It could hinder the formation of a Christian conscience and a position of freedom in regards to the fallen world. This is a blessed struggle, however, worthy of those who love Christ. Thus, his admonition remains timeless as we struggle with our choices.

'Sitting at the feet of Jesus...'

 

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,


This last Sunday we heard St. Matthew's account of the healing of the Gadarene demoniacs (Matt. 8:28-9:1). The following meditation is about the same event, but as it was narrated by St. Luke. 

As is often the case, the details may differ (St. Luke tells us that this occurred in "the country of the Gerasenes") but the same over-all meaning can be found as in this text as in St. Matthew's. I first look at how a major 19th c. novelist grappled with this extraordinary text, before then turning to a wonderful detail peculiar to St. Luke's Gospel:

Jesus then asked him, "What is your name?" And he said, "legion;" for many demons had entered him. And they begged him not to command them to depart into the abyss. Now a large herd of swine was feeding there on the hillside; and they begged him to let them enter into these. So he gave them leave. Then the demons came out of the man and entered into the swine and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and drowned. 

When the herdsmen saw what had happened, they fled, and told it in the city and in the country. Then 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. And those who had seen it told them how he who had been possessed with demons had been healed.  (LK. 8:30-36)

 

The text above - a partial account of the healing of the Gerasene demoniac - served as one of two epigraphs for Fyodor Dostoevsky's gripping novel that was entitled, simply, Demons. (The novel's title has also been translated, less accurately, as The Possessed). 

For Dostoevsky, living and writing in 19th c. Russia, the "demons" were the newly-emerging revolutionaries who were not only determined to overthrow the Russian monarchy; but also committed to abolish belief in God and the Orthodox Christian culture that was shaped by that belief. Aspiring to such a radical rejection of the prevailing political, social, cultural, and religious order, these revolutionaries were named "nihilists," for they believed, essentially, that nothing was sacred or beyond their desire to destroy. Out of the ashes of this nihilistic disorder something resembling a utopian society was to emerge, now cleansed of any dead remnants from the past.

Dostoevsky was hoping that the nihilistic revolutionaries of his era would self-destruct as did the demons - called "legion" - of the Gospel account. In his compelling novel that is precisely what happens, but Dostoevsky was enough of a realist to realize that the outcome could be different, especially with the decay that was eroding the effectiveness of the very institutions he was hoping would withstand such an onslaught. And the reality was that this nihilistic orgy of violence would occur in the generation following his death in 1881.

Thus, Dostoevsky uncannily "prophesied" the later Russian Revolution that engaged in precisely such a sweepingly destructive movement against what was considered a God-established order. But the person who would repent of such nihilistic tendencies and return to faith in Christ was to enjoy the transformative experience of "sitting at the feet of Jesus clothed and in his right mind." This is basically what happens to a major character in the novel. Demons thus proved to be an unforgettable artistic actualization of the Gospel account of the healing of the Gerasene demoniac and what it means to turn to Christ. 

It is only in St. Luke's account that we read that wonderful verse of the healed demoniac sitting at the feet of Jesus. Yet, the story of the Garasene demoniac also appears in the Gospels of Sts. Mark and Matthew. It is thus a story that must have made a strong impact on the early Church. 

Details will differ - St. Matthew actually records the healing of two demoniacs instead of one - but the intense drama of this narrative cannot but stand out against the bleak background of the rugged landscape, the tombs where the demoniac(s) lived in isolation, and of course the cliff with the abyss below that swallowed up the herd of trampling and frenzied swine. It is an account that more-or-less assaults our modern sensibilities - especially a kind of rationalistic and moralistic Christianity. The realm and reality of the demonic and the "spiritual warfare" implied by recognizing such a realm and reality opens up our minds and hearts to both the irrational and supra-rational world of the Gospel in which Christ has come to "bind" the "strong man."

This is a fierce battle that demands a greater commitment to Christ and the Gospel than conventional Sunday morning church attendance. 

It is just such a deeper commitment that will perhaps "reward" us with sitting at the feet of Jesus "clothed" in our right mind. (A weaker commitment may mean that we are content with standing in the back of the church at a safe distance and only occasionally listening - or listening only when we hear something that appeals to us, while shutting out the "hard sayings").

Sitting at the feet of Jesus implies listening to his words, allowing them to penetrate our hearts, and acting upon them to the extent that we are able. We claim that Christ is the "Lord and Master" of our lives. Such a claim means that there is really no other place that we want to "sit" and absorb and be nourished by what we are hearing. 

To be in our "right mind" does not simply mean that we have not been diagnosed with a clinically-defined mental disorder. It implies a clarity of vision and a "worldview" grounded in the reality of God's existence and gracious presence. It also means freedom from moral, ethical and spiritual disorders. 
Perhaps to sit at the feet of Jesus and to be clothed and in our right mind indicates a state of spiritual sanity. 

With a surrounding world engulfed in modes of behavior that can only be considered "insane," the Church remains the "place" where we retain our sanity. That may take some time and some work. The "demons" must first be expelled. We must fear the abyss of destruction that swallows up the possessed swine of the Gospel account. Then we can join the ranks of the saints and sit at the feet of Jesus "clothed and in our right mind."

July: A 'month-long spiritual desert'

 

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

Unless we find ourselves on an exciting vacation somewhere far from home, it seems that nothing can conceivably be more uneventful than a Monday morning in mid-July. The only “variety” offered seems to be found in the weather. Will it rain or will the sun shine? Will the blistering heat continue, or will we feel some relief?

At this point in the summer, we may have already been on vacation – which means that there isn’t much to look forward to—or we are awaiting an upcoming trip that at least fills us with some sense of anticipation and “escape.” Which poses a further question: are those carefully-planned vacations into which we invest so much time, energy, money – and even hope – always as rewarding, relaxing and renewing as anticipated? I suppose that can only be assessed once we have returned – hopefully as intact as when we departed!

Whatever the case may be, the following passage from the Scriptures may just inspire us to see beyond the tedium that leads to the forgetfulness of God: 

“Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather healed” (Heb 12:12-13).

 

Adding to our spiritual ennui is, admittedly, the fact that July is the most uneventful month of the year liturgically: no major fasts or feasts occur during this month. Basically, there is “only” the Liturgy on Sundays and the commemoration of a few well-known saints throughout the month. With vacationing parishioners, there can be a noticeable drop in church attendance. There may also be certain signs of “spiritual laziness” setting in (induced, perhaps, in part by the haziness of the weather) leading to that condition of spiritual torpor known in our spiritual literature as akedia. 

July, therefore, is something of a month-long stretch of desert, for we celebrated the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul at the end of June and await the major Feasts of the Transfiguration and Dormition in August within the context of the two-week fast from August 1-14.

Of course, we never want to find ourselves saying that there is “only” the Liturgy on Sunday mornings. The word “only” is hopelessly inadequate when applied to the Lord’s Day celebration of the Eucharist! 

“Only” implies “uneventful.” Yet, every Liturgy is the actualization of the Paschal Mystery of the Death and Resurrection of Christ, and our participation in that mystery. And every Liturgy is simultaneously the actualization of the Pentecostal mystery of the sanctifying presence of the Holy Spirit: "Send down Thy Holy Spirit upon us and upon these gifts here offered." 

At every Liturgy we proclaim and bless the presence and power of the Kingdom of Heaven. We are praying to and praising the Holy Trinity together with the angels and the saints. We are in direct communion with God and one another in the Liturgy. This means that every Liturgy is “eventful” in a manner that we can barely comprehend!

If, indeed, the summer proves to be something of a spiritual drought, then we can only thank God for the weekly liturgical cycle that begins and culminates with the Divine Liturgy on the Lord’s Day so that we can recover and renew our genuine humanity that has been created, redeemed and transformed “in Christ.” 

To speak of our life “in Christ” on the communal level we believe that at every Liturgy, we anticipate the messianic banquet where and when “many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 8:11). The heavenly manna, or the “Bread from heaven” that we receive by the grace of God, strengthens us in the somewhat outward and inward “desert-like” conditions of the world around or within us.

On a more interior level, we may one day make the wonderful discovery that we need not travel far away geographically in order to embark upon a life-transforming journey. In the Prologue to his book The Orthodox Way, Metropolitan Kallistos Ware relates the following anecdote.

“One of the best known of the Desert Fathers of the fourth-century Egypt, Saint Sarapion the Sidonite, traveled once on pilgrimage to Rome. Here he was told of a celebrated recluse, a woman who lives always in one small room, never going out. Skeptical about her way of life – for he was himself a great wanderer – Sarapion called on her and asked: ‘Why are you sitting here?’ To this she replied: ‘I am not sitting, I am on a journey'.”

Admittedly, this will not work well with the children. But at one point in our lives, we need desperately to make that discovery of our interior depths wherein we find a point of stillness that will further still our excessive restlessness that endlessly pushes us “outward” rather than “inward.” In one of my favorite sentences in The Orthodox Way, Metropolitan Kallistos puts it this way:  

“We are on a journey through the inward space of the heart, a journey not measured by the hours of our watch or the days of the calendar, for it is a journey out of time into eternity.”

“Vacations” are one thing, and “journeys” (or pilgrimages) another. The packaging and planning of the former make them much more predictable that the limitless possibilities of the latter. So, as we plan our outward vacations by plane or car, we need make provisions for the interior journeys into the greater space of our hearts through “faith, hope and love,” as well as through the practices of prayer and fasting, so as to remain attentive to the “still voice of God” that gives direction and meaning to our lives. Be that as it may, we pray that God will bless us on both forms of travel!

Guest Reflection: A Monastery Pilgrimage

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

Last weekend Rhett and Jenny Harkins picked up their son, Theo, from Antiochian Village. They then spent the weekend at the Holy Transfiguration Monastery in Ellwood City, PA. They were able to meet Mother Paula (our former parishioner, Vicki Bellas) and spend some time with her. I asked Jenny if she would prepare an account of their meeting for the parish, and she has graciously agreed, and now presents this fine description of the monastery, Mother Paula, and the other mothers and sisters. I am sure that you will enjoy her account of their visit.

__________

 

This past weekend Rhett, Theo and I had the opportunity to make a short pilgrimage to the Orthodox Monastery of the Transfiguration in Ellwood City, Pennsylvania. We were looking forward to meeting Mother Paula, a former parishioner of our church, whom we had heard so much about! Formally known by many at CTSHS as Vicki Bellas, she served in this church family for a decade or so leading up to the realization of her monastic calling in 2010. She was instrumental in facilitating our parish’s involvement with the Hogar Orphanage in Guatemala City for many years. I understand several parishioners were able to attend her tonsure ceremony on December 13th, 2010 at the monastery under Hieromonk Alexander, con-celebrated by Fr. Hopko and our Fr. Steven. Since then, she has been living out her monastic calling at OMT with her fellow nuns under the guidance of Abbess Mother Christophora.

This past Friday, we drove out to pick Theo up from Antiochian Village Summer Camp and headed two hours northwest for our first pilgrimage to the monastery. The grounds were beautiful and quiet as we pulled up to the main church building. Mother Paula greeted us cheerfully and inquired about our travels, camp, how everyone at church is doing… we immediately felt like family catching-up. She gave us a quick “mini-tour” of the main building including the lovely church, brimming library, new chapel, hospitality room, refectory and nuns’ quarters. Engaging and efficient, she shared a brief history of the older and newer parts of the church and explained components of the reliquary and phases of the iconography to us. Having become familiar with the lay of the land, she led us to the newly-built guest house with abundant baskets full of dinner, assuring us (in Greek “yaya” fashion) that it looks like a lot more than it actually is.

The guesthouse was brand new and spacious, each room with its own accompanying bathroom, a large and cozy living room containing shelves of books to explore and a bright kitchen with all the amenities. Many guests can and do share this space. However, we were the only pilgrims this particular weekend. Mother Paula settled us in, showed us the schedule of services we could attend, and made sure we knew all of the grounds and church would be open for us. She shared how the monastery embraces a dual calling of contemplation and hospitality and their evolution over the years in balancing the two. It seemed to me the spiritual embodiment of Mary and Martha together, serving the Lord. I fell asleep that night enveloped in an armchair with a hopelessly ambitious stack of books joyfully plucked from the shelves, sprawling on my lap; pages of St. Ignatius Brianchaninov, Metropolitan Anthony Bloom and Fr. George Florovsky patiently awaiting my next attempt at vigil asceticism. (Spoiler alert- they’re still waiting ;-)

Over the next couple days we were able to attend Vespers and Matins services, an akathist to St. John Maximovitch and Divine Liturgy. The graceful reverence of the nuns was inspiring to us in our own worship. I watched as Mother Paula and the sisters sang the same prayers they must have sung thousands of times with solemn conviction and attention, adoration for the Lord and regard for each other apparent in their posture. Throughout the weekend, each sister made a point to welcome us, introducing themselves with warm smiles, even a few hugs and genuine interest. Twice, Mother Magdalena asked Theo if he wanted to assist her in ringing the large church bells, and with a big grin, he tried to keep in time with her experienced rhythm. During the midday meal on Saturday, our family was eating at a small table next to the larger table for the nuns and Mother Paula asked us to share a little about ourselves and what we do in Cincinnati. Her kind inclusiveness initiated a delightful and dynamic conversation between all of the sisters and our family. We learned a little more about each of them and felt known and loved. 

I was surprised at how hard it was to say goodbye after Divine Liturgy on Sunday. We were sorry to have missed meeting Abbess Mother Christophora as she was traveling to celebrate the 100th birthday of a (still serving!) priest in New Jersey. We did feel like we had a glimpse of her though, through the genuine love and thorough hospitality of her spiritual daughters. As beautiful as the monastery was with its rich history, captivating iconography and peaceful countryside, it is Mother Paula and her fellow nuns who struck a chord that resonated in worship for me throughout the weekend. Their vibrant example of the “crucified life” as it ebbed and flowed in worship from offices of prayer and liturgy, daily teamwork, intentional hospitality, silence and personal prayer… served as a catalyst of encouragement for my own spirit. These sisters in Christ who have truly chosen to surrender all as a love offering to The Beloved, humbled me with their disarming affection and patience. I’m so thankful to have finally met Mother Paula and look forward to someday worshipping alongside the sisters of The Holy Transfiguration Monastery again!

 

Guest Reflection: Learning to Cherish Life

 

Dear Parish Faithful,

Our parishioner, Jacob Boehne, shared this personal account with me recently. I was very impressed by it, and asked if he would agree to have it shared with the parish. Jacob graciously agreed, so I am now sending it out to everyone. It is about his personal journey toward embracing and defending the "sacred gift of life." Please contact Jacob if you would like to speak with him further about his experience.

- Fr Steven

LEARNING TO CHERISH LIFE

Jacob Boehne

At age 13 I encountered a ministry called Rock for Life. They set up booths at music festivals and concerts to speak to young people about abortion and the sanctity of life. They used the punk aesthetic to attract people to the message. Walking by the booth I was interested in the older teenager with a tall colored mohawk giving out pamphlets and a guy covered in tattoos who had a presentation prepared. I asked to know about abortion and he offered me a warning before allowing me to see the binder full of photos from ultrasounds and images of ripped apart preborn children. I remember my heart breaking as I flipped through the binder and listening to that man describe the procedure and history of abortion. I was changed that day. I was awakened to a great pain and horror of the human experience. 

After leaving the festival I was full of rage and I was marked with a desire for change. I came home with my Rock for Life shirt and a handful of pamphlets. I told everyone about abortion and the need for it to end. I told my classmates, youth group, teachers, and, through the power of my shirt, everyone I walked past in my community. 

One of the responses recommended by Rock for Life was to “cherish life.” In my young mind, I had to figure out what that meant. So, I asked to volunteer in my church nursery. I figured one way to love babies was to play with some. I volunteered in the church nursery for years and I worked with another ministry in Newport, KY that provided free meals and clothing for families in need on Saturday afternoons in the park. My main job was to push kids on the swings while the moms grabbed food and clothing to take home. 

Some years went by and I started volunteering at a sliding scale daycare at the Brighton Center. The center was there to provide childcare for low-income families. Overtime I understand more about abortion, pro-choice opinion, and the need for much more in our society to change than just abortion being illegal. The pain was deeper and even more horrifying than what that binder of photos could reveal. 

A Reflection on Abortion and Being Pro-Life

by Fr. Steven C. Kostoff

On June 24 – the Feast of the Nativity of St. John the Forerunner – what no one really expected until recently, actually happened. This was the overturning of the controversial Roe v. Wade Supreme Court ruling of 1973, which granted women the constitutional right to abortion throughout the country. The new ruling is referred to as Dodd v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization. For many, Roe v. Wade was flawed from the very beginning, both in form and content. (Even Ruth Bader Ginsburg considered it problematic.) It certainly did not have a grasp of the biological facts about the beginning of human life in the womb. Perhaps one way to envision the acceptance of abortion is to realize just how powerful is the affirmation of the self-autonomous individual, wherein “choice” is the ultimate act of freedom.

The Orthodox Church always has and always will resist abortion. Thus, the Church took a position of “holy resistance” in opposition to Roe v. Wade, encouraging peaceful and prayerful protests against the widespread practice of abortion since 1973. The Church also condemned violence as  a legitimate form of protest. Abortion is actually a very old issue, since the ancient Church stood out against this common practice many centuries ago. One of many representative voices was that of St. Basil the Great (+379). In stark terms this is what he wrote about abortion:

Those who give potions for the destruction of the child conceived in the womb are murderers, as are those who take potions which kill the child. (Letter 188)

Notice how St. Basil does not only cast blame on the mother of the child, but first mentions those who provide the means for the abortion to occur. In our contemporary setting, we need be aware and sensitive to the complexities of life situations, especially as these affect women who are not the recipients of structural social support, or of love and concern flowing from family support.

When all is said and done – and remaining aware of the complexities of life just mentioned above - abortion is the taking of a human life. Since the “sacred gift of life” is ultimately in the hands of God, elective abortion is  understood to be contrary to the will of our Creator as the One who is the Lord “of the living and the dead.” That, of course, is a “religious” perspective not shared by a large part of American society. A growing secular perspective, developing within our country’s strict separation of Church and State, allowed for the option of abortion that ultimately received the sanction of the Supreme Court.  And since 1973 there has a bitter and contentious struggle between those described as “pro life,” and those described as “pro choice.” This recent ruling will prove to be as contentious and controversial as the ruling of 1973. In other words, the debate will continue with no end in sight.

Now this divisive issue has been handed back to the states for their own legislative deliberations.  Many states have already enacted strict anti-abortion laws, and others will soon join them. And there are states in which abortions will remain legal. Hopefully women will not be criminalized for seeking an abortion; or for going out of state to have one. And we should certainly hope that the State does not pry into the contents of a person’s mail. Will pro-life politicians fund programs that will financially assist poor mothers with child care, housing and other daily requirements? A pro-life society will need to support children born into difficult circumstances. To abandon them to the harsh realities of life after protecting their “right to life” would be immoral. That would include us, as Orthodox Christians. Are we willing to provide the necessary support to pregnant women and their children once they are born? Being Pro-life needs to continue outside of the womb.

Concerning the overturning of Roe v. Wade, Metropolitan Tikhon recently wrote: “Broadly speaking … this should be a cause for rejoicing.” Yet, he also wrote in the same pastoral letter: “However, we must avoid all triumphalism.” Here is how I understand that comment:

The Christian position – and those who accept that position – always had the moral high ground when it came to defending life from its very conception. Life, from the moment of conception, is not “potential life,” but life with potential. The conceived child is awaiting to behold the light of day, and to enter into the mystery of life in all of its varied manifestations. However, serious problems arise with the “pro-life” position because it is not consistently “pro-life” at all. This inconsistency can be, and often is, hypocritical, because of how selective the “choice” is as to who and what kind of life needs to be protected within a “pro-life” ethic.

In America, we have three forms of State-sanctioned killing: abortion, capital punishment, and war. Capital punishment and the ubiquitous presence of the threat of war certainly predate 1973. A consistent “pro-life” ethos would reject capital punishment and certainly any act of war that is aggressive and belligerent. Has the American fascination with our nation’s ongoing gun culture  inured us to public violence? Are we unwilling to accept acts of violence within the womb; but willing to accept State-sanctioned acts of violence outside of the womb?

Many “pro-life” Christians are strong advocates for capital punishment. Most of the autocephalous Orthodox Churches formally oppose capital punishment. I know that the Orthodox Church in America has such a resolution that goes back to the All-American Council in St. Louis in 1989. [See here - webservant.] One may argue that abortion is different from capital punishment – one  victim is absolutely innocent, and the other guilty (but certainly not always!) of a heinous crime – but it is still the State-sanctioned taking of a life. St. Prince Vladimir (+1015) abolished capital punishment in medieval Rus’ once he consciously became a Christian, based upon the precepts of the Gospel.

Here is a link to one of many excellent articles that explain why the Church cannot sanction capital punishment:

• Capital Punishment: Points to Consider

Many “pro-life” American Christians are “hawks” when it comes to war. And when we maim and kill thousands – including innocent men, women and children - through bombing and precision drone attacks, I wonder just how much distress does that cause, and how much sympathy does that awaken in us as a nation for those non-Americans who have died? Covering that up with a lot of flag-waving does not soften the destruction that has been unleashed. In the new document, For the Life of the World – Towards a Social Ethos of the Orthodox Church, blessed by Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew - we read the following:

“Nothing is more contrary to God’s will for creatures fashioned in his image and likeness than violence one against another, and nothing more sacrilegious than the organized practice of mass killing.”

Here are two further links to the Orthodox Church’s attitude toward war: 

• No Just War in the Fathers by Fr. Stanley Harakas
• The Orthodox Church and Peace by Olivier Clement

Having written the above, I am fully aware of the inconsistency and hypocrisy of “pro-abortion” advocates. They are very mindful of saving life outside of the womb, but apparently seem to disregard protecting life within the womb. There is also scant recognition of accepting the responsibilities that accompany sexual relationships. Let us further hope that their protests against the overturning of Roe v. Wade does not result in acts of senseless violence. And let us not harshly judge those who disagree with us.

Thus both sides in this debate lack consistency and descend into hypocrisy.

Our Orthodox Church strongly encourages a faithful, consistent and God-inspired attitude to the “sacred gift of life” in all stage of life’s journey from the womb to the tomb. When we abandon that approach for reasons that could be political, social, cultural or philosophical, then we submit ourselves as Orthodox Christians to the skepticism and scorn of the secular world. That undermines our witness to the world of the Truth of the Gospel. Let us continue to protect the unborn and the marginalized alike – “the poor, the sick, the suffering, and the imprisoned;  abandoned, abused and orphaned children, and those who are persecuted for their faith.”