Archive for July, 2009

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Orthodox Christianity and Anti-Semitism

July 29, 2009

Fr. Andrew of Orthodox England responded to a question in the current issue of his excellent journal (Orthodox England,Volume 12, Number 4) to an matter which tends to linger especially with a faith that for most of us Americans has been obscured by our more Western European heritage and allegiances. Almost three years ago now, I had started an inquiry of a similar vein on the excellent forum over on monachos.net and it is always surprising both the direction a discussion can take and how it expands in untold ways to inform our understanding.

The topic of course is Anti-Semitism, but more fully rounds out to discussion of the relationship between Orthodox Christians and other faiths. In some measure, one of the acid tests of our faith may be found in terms of how we approach those outside it as we find them – whether in suffering, or causing our own suffering, or in some other (hopefully happier) state. The stories in the Gospel are full of these examples. Many of our modernist Protestant bretheren unfortunately take them to support the thesis that Christianity is all about making good men better rather than turning within to reflect on our relationship with  the god-man Christ, but I think we are mistaken ourselves if we fail to seize on the whole of these lessons in an of themselves. Our world is not so confined as to be wholly Orthodox, nor are we supposed to insulate ourselves, or respond perhaps as much of the misguided in our Old Testament texts accounts of ancient Israel reflect as shunning or assaulting the outsiders. Indeed, though there are many loving stories of a relationship within the Body, there are many (shorter) of sound relationships beyond.

I understand the anti-Ecumenist, anti-Kumbaya movement. I also understand the Rodney King “We’re all in this together” sensibility that seems to be “the next thing” for dealing with the atheism of the European Union. Personally, I’m not working to fix my church, fix my jurisdiction or the people in it, or fix the world… I tend to think there is much to the old Buddhist adage that we begin to fix the world by beginning with ourselves, and anyone at all vaguely familiar with my scribblings can attest that in some cases, this is a full-time job, or at least if we shelve the project  (consciously or unconsciously makes little difference) for a few decades, the catch-up work can be consuming. But the consumption with self is less a matter of principle than a recognition of my need for preparation. I’m not sure where it ends, but have always thought that the three years that it took St. Paul (according to one account somewhere) was probably a good indicator of what a younger and holier man could accomplish… though I’m not sure how this translates or what it means to a backslider like me… other than a plea for “more time”.

So with my background attesting to how uncertainty can be as much a mire as a virtue, I would turn you instead to the virtues of Fr. Andrews response to a common, but thorny issue. As with much in his excellent journal, I find it illuminating, and with his permission, have quoted it in its entirety:

What would you reply to those who say that Orthodox are anti-Semitic? After all it was Orthodox who carried out the pogroms. (L., Pennsylvania)
I cannot wholly agree with your last statement. I think we have to see the so-called ‘pogroms’ in their economic context. Pogroms took place all over Europe at the end of the nineteenth century. Therefore they were not carried out uniquely by Orthodox, but rather by all Europeans. The ‘pogroms’ in Berlin and Vienna were particularly bad, far worse than in western Russia. As regards the attacks in what was then the Russian Empire, they were carried out mainly by Catholics and Uniats in Polish-speaking, Ukrainian-speaking and Romanian-speaking areas.

These pogroms should not be viewed in a religious context, but a cultural one. They should be seen in the context of economic jealousy on the part of nominal and decadent Christians, not on the part of practising Christians. It is a fact that most Jews were often hardworking (more than many Orthodox) and successful. Some of them, the non-practising Jews, used their economic success to exploit others – both Jews and Non-Jews. (Karl Marx should be seen as one of these – he exploited the naïve with his absurd ideology, which he reckoned to be ‘scientific’).

This exploitation caused jealousy, especially in poor parts of Europe, like Poland, Lithuania, the Ukraine and Romania. (It should be noted that Jews were only living in large numbers in these areas of Central and Eastern Europe, because they has been expelled by the mediæval anti-semitism of Catholic Western Europe, especially in countries like Spain, France and England, whereas in Central and Eastern Europe they enjoyed complete religious freedom and prospered there). So it is pure hypocrisy on the part of Western Europe to talk about their persecution there. They were only there because of Western persecution and in Central and Eastern Europe they had complete religious freedom, unlike in Western Europe.

Thus Orthodox who were involved with the attacks on Jews, in which dozens, perhaps hundreds of innocent Jews were killed (not tens of thousands, as some people claim) were only nominal, not practising. These attacks were condemned time and again by Orthodox. For example, by the future Metropolitan Antony Khrapovitsky, then bishop of the strongly Jewish town of Zhitomir, or St John of Kronstadt who wrote of the Kishenev pogrom: ‘What are you doing? Why have you turned into barbarians – destroying and robbing people who live in the same country as yourselves?’ (My thoughts on the violence of Christians towards Jews in Kishinev).

St. Tikhon, Patriarch of Moscow, wrote: ‘We have heard reports of Jewish pogroms … Orthodox Russia! May this disgrace pass you by. May this curse not affect you. May your hand not turn crimson in the blood that calls out to heaven … Remember the pogroms – this is dishonour for you’. (Message of 8 July 1919). In other words, I think we need to see the pogroms (like the tens of thousands of times worse Jewish genocide carried out by the Western European Nazis who received the co-operation of the ‘Catholic’ French, Lithuanians, Croats, Slovaks and many other peoples) in the context of the de-Christianisation of Europe, which process sped ahead from the mid-nineteenth century on and led to two great European Wars.

We cannot forget how the Jews lived in Constantinople, much to the scandal of the late 11th and 12th century. Crusaders, who performed the first pogroms in the Rhineland in 1095, which marked the beginning of ‘Anti-Semitism’ in Europe, were astonished by this. Indeed, the fourteenth century Patriarch Philotheus was racially a Jew. (Can you imagine a Pope of Rome at the time being racially a Jew?). Some sources say that Emperor Michael II was also a Jew, as were many other saints, for example St Romanus the Melodist. Some100,000 Jews joined the Russian Orthodox Church in the nineteenth century alone. Of course, this is no different from the case of the Apostles – racially Jews – and the Mother of God and the human nature of Christ.

(By the way, the word anti-Semitism is incorrect, for the Arabs are also racially Semites. To call the Arab Palestinians anti-Semitic, as some do, is absurd. The term should surely be anti-Jewish).

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On Bernanke and Why We Need Torture…

July 21, 2009

Let me state first off that I have a tongue and sometimes it gets planted somewhere inside my mouth and below my eyeball.  Okay. Get the  picture? Right… you just never know with this internet thing… where it’s headed next. Now that’s settled, here’s my bit:

This afternoon I was looking for some of those great on-line videos where Congressman Grayson ( a lone wolf  sort of hero these days  with some actual brains )  grills some of the CEO’s, Bernanke, the other Perp’s of our current crisis, and of course our “oh so responsible” regulators. Somehow, I stumbled on this blog where the guy is making the case for torture to keep us safe. Okay, I’m thinking… safe from the next financial crisis… right… safe from the Perp’s who won’t give us any REAL answers… and I laughed. I’m thinking, this guy’s on to something. Of course when you start to read his stuff thinking he’s gonna be worth a hoot, somehow he’s serious and on a completely different and soooooo later  track. You’d have thought we’d given that up by now, huh? Well… I mean I’m not in to the stuff actually… but when you think of it for these guys… some things are just too good to let go …just yet.

So imagine if you will a whole different set of circumstances when Bernanke goes before Congress:

“Ve haf vays of making you talk, dah?”
“Dah.”
“Vere ees our $2 Trillion?”
“Dah. Eye…. Eye don no.”
“Voltage!!!”
“Voltage!!!”
“Aaak!…. Okay…. vill talk…. vill talk!!  Ze  $2 Trillion….eees…”
“Vas? Vere??? Vere???’!!! Tells me now!!”
“Dah!! Gifs eet to us now!!!”
“…Eees in my basement FREEZER! Ha ha ha ha!”
“Voltage!”
“Voltage!!!!”
“… anf Yule vill never find it!!! Ha ha ha ha! Aaaak! Aaaaak!!”
“More VOLTAGE!!!”
“Aaaaak!!! Aieeee!!”

MarsAttacks

Oh… that was good. Soooo good! Thanks… I’m feeling better now. And sorry Ben…

….yes… sorry… I’m really not quite sure where the accents came from. Must have been a haywire in my Babel fish, or maybe the guys are some combination of Pennsylvania Dutch and “Mars Attacks”. I dunno. And for what it’s worth, I’d say it’s a good thing we got some folks not just singing… if you know what I mean, but like Jerry Jeff Walker and his bad ol’  boys… singing and winging their way on back to Texas…  it’s a good thing ’cause otherwise… well, pretty soon it coulda been folks with American uniforms and accents that would be starring in those B-grade movies, the butt of all the jokes, and the scarey guys… an’ we wouldn’t want that, now would we? Nah. In this country, our thugs wear Hickey Freeman suits and Gucci loafers, and sit in chairs near K Street or the Capital dome.

Now guys… seriously… doesn’t this make the mess in Palm Desert look… not good… but chump change? I mean really… I’m not dismissing it… it’s just it fits into the fabric of a set of values we can’t seem to escape thes days… anywhere. It’s hard to see a line when everybody’s stepping over it. And not everyone was lucky enough to have my Mom: “They… whoever these they are… they’re not you and I’m not buying it.” Yeah. Mom could be tough back in the day… especially when it was me. But I’ve let go of that… honest… I love her… and I had it coming. Always.

So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m thinking maybe this latest is the Lee Iaccoca book I’ll read.  I mean, I got the last one… but then the K cars turned out to be something of a “K is for Krapper.”..  ‘cept for the woodie LeBaron convertible… that was sweet! Anyway, Lee’s as full of himself as the next guy… maybe even me, but given that our astronauts are pretty much singing from the same page these days about whatever happened to real men, going for the gusto, you only go around once in life and all that…. I mean really… I guess that all went out when they messed up the Schlitz can. So either Lee’s on to something,  or maybe he’s just thowin’ some blowback from the Greatest Generation to the Not So Great Generation (But We Were More Hip Back in the Day Before We had Hip Replacements). I’ll let you know.

Stogies... Keep the bugs away!

Stogies... Keep the bugs away!


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Eyes Wide Shut… Mouth… Keyboard….

July 20, 2009

So after reading this wonderful piece this weekend I’m thinking about the nature of farm life… how reportedly, animals sleep all the time whenever and however they can. It’s not that I’m some sort of Agrarian or anything… I’m more like a Suburbarian. Suburbarians differ from Barbarians in that we’ve lowered the Bar. We differ from Agrarians in that we’ve lost the Agra and have yet to buy a Wii and give it a German pronunciation. And we differ from Urbanites in that we mostly are home at night. How do we differ from Suburbanites? Ah… now that’s an excellent question… a question pondered by the ages… pondered by many, many folks of great and incredible brain power. I have no idea what their opinions on the subject are but I’m sure they’re weighty. My guess is that we’re simply more non-conformist in our conformity, as we know how to say, “Yar!”

“Yar!”

There… in case there’s any doubt, now I’ve done it: I’ve attested to my I.D…. but my eye-dee is definitely like hidee-hidee-hidee-ho without being a Home Improvement. The only Home Improvement I could make would be to go sit out by the corner on Friday mornings… early… next to the recycling and wait for the truck. “They’re taking me on a new adventure? Oh good! I like adventures!”

So as I look over this material I have to say the surgery has definitely reduced me to a blithering idiot. Admittedly the idiot part’s not new… but the blithering… well, maybe. Maybe it’s that I’m thinking I’d like to have my eyes wide shut, and my mouth open asleep at my desk somehow in a way that only someone long acclimated to Suburbarian life could recognize as part of the thing that the genus “Homo Officus” does frequently in the presence of a video screen… but that others with less familiarity would just accept as, “Oh… I can’t interrupt now, he’s busy working”.

Yep. You see…. after years spent living as a Suburbarian amongst the “Homo-Officii”, I can say I’ve studied “Homo Officus” and his/her habits. I feel as if I know them…. and maybe if I check out my genes… I might even be one. Can’t tell. I mean is it even possible? Probably not much longer… as from what I read, many “Homo-Officii” are being laid off and transmuted into entirely new species… some are called “Homo Retiricus”, others “Homo Laidofficus”. Differences are subtle…. mostly in the tail markings…. like the back pocket.

Anyway, the typical “Homo Officus” is way underslept and has accordingly through generations of evolution developed the habit of sleeping with their eyes wide shut, mouth open, and fingers on the keyboard. You won’t even know they’re sleeping unless you look carefully for signs of impending drool. The risk in this is that to spot signs of impending drool you may have to get waaaay too close. And “Homo Officus” is known to  screech violently when caught napping. So you may want to use one of those birder tents and a camera with a long telephoto lens.  This may crowd the habitat, so you may risk losing your official “green” status in the process… but it is so worth it.

Why is it worth it? Actually I’m not sure… unless maybe it’s the “explanations”… the goofy ones. “Homo Officus” is known to offer that he or she was unfairly shot with a game warden’s doping gun of some sort from a distance, tagged and marked for “scientific study” and just recovering from the affects of the incident when your camera went off. Or he might claim that passing pygmies shot and winged him with one of their blow guns. Mostly, I find it useful to claim to be studying the effects of dopamine… as part of my anti-doping struggle… a struggle my kids are quick to point out I’m losing. “No doubt about it… he’s a dope.”

But for today’s excuse… at least mine would be that it may have something more to do with last week’s oral surgery whose after effects of “pressure” mimic headaches, and all the side effects a good “Homo Officus” is already too familiar with. So for those who may have accidentally added me to your prayer list for this short interlude, I want to say thank you. “Thank you”. You, too, are in my prayers. Annonymous saints remain my favorite. They’re even Greek!

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Summertime… and the living is…

July 15, 2009

Okay. Mid summer strikes…as usual… and I’m wondering where the summer’s gone. Already darling daughter’s talking about when she’ll be headed back to Hotlanta. But it’s still cool as May here, reasonably dry… and about the best weather I can remember. Corn, tomatoes, cantelopes and all have been great! Have caught a few lightning bugs, helped a few toads up the curb, and even seen a great summer movie or two.

But summer is for…

Oral surgery! Tomorrow my head will hopefully be conked out as I start down the road of my patron saint in losing a few body parts (teeth).

“Hey… yeah… but at least I did it for…”
“But it’s the general idea…”
“Ideas… rationalism… irrationalism in your case. Hmmm… you’re just not gittin’ the nous thing man.”

Okay… see where this leads? Small things never stay that way.

Anyway, my little white pearly dudes were damaged by my Orthodonist back-in-the-day and my bod now thinks they’re some sort of bacteria that needs to be attacked.

“Thanks bod’…. we’ll talk later.”

Two guys going down for the count. One will be replaced with an implant, the other…. deep sixed and forgotten. Note for the tooth fairy is already written:

“Please leave either a free vacation home (nearby with no mortgage or maintenance), or a failed bank with one of those lottery tickets for some bailout money. Doesn’t have to fit under the pillow. And don’t forget: A water well for the thirsty folks in Africa…. ’cause now all those starving folks in India are driving their Boxsters to the Krispy Kreme. Oh.. and you can have the dog if you want him. Really. Call it a deal sweetener. No kidding. Okay, could you like instead… just drop in at 6:00 a.m on Saturday’s and let him out.”

My college roomie’s an oral surgeon in Memphis and trying his best to steer me from afar. But kind of like a backseat driver… it works only so well. Mostly, I like his Dr. Feelgood advice… but guys here in town seem to say, “Oh you won’t feel anything… maybe just a little pressure.”

“Pressure”. Yeah I get it. Rings a bell. Like all the way back to the hospital’s birthing class when I asked the nurse to translate “pressure” in terms of what it meant in delivery…. “Like do we mean pain ?” The room went so quiet you could have heard a pin drop in China. She answered, “Well…. yes.” Hands began shooting up all over the place… and the next week it was no mistaking why we met the anesthesiologist. My roomie’ had of course trained doing his bit in anesthesia at the… yes, I kid you not… “The Presley Shock Trauma Unit”.  And no… they never hear any jokes, wear sunglasses and leisure suits, swing guitars on their hip… or any of the fun things you’d expect. Just a random gun shot victim here or self-clobberizer there. But somehow if you play your card right, it leads to singing offers from Vegas…

Where was I… not Vegas f’sure. Anyway… as I was getting on to ask about how will it go…

“We’ll just use a local or two here.”
“Only a local? Seriously? “
“What I said. Maybe two. You’ll be done in twenty minutes… it’s hardly…”
“Hey doc… you got any other choices? I’m not good with pressure… I’m kicking salesmen out of my office all the time…”

Might as well have bee talking to the moon. Ralph… Alice… what do they know? Then I heard:

“Me… I’m just not good with watching all those implements going in… the look on some guy’s face… you shaking your head… the whole “whoops” thing… or the occassional “Damn!”… I mean… needles, cutting… pretty soon we’re talking blood… even mine…”
“Well… we’ve got gas…”
“Try some beano, man. No,  I’m talking…”
“I meant laughing gas.”

And then there’s this pause like I’m supposed to know he’s just armed a nuclear weapon and put the button in front of me. Only this is me we’re talking about here, and I’m still thinking we’re talking pain, I have no idea what’s just happend. All I can think is that the best the guy can do is talk about is some sitcom laugh track.

“You mean you’re just gonna tell some jokes? Like… how’s that gonna work?”

Okay, so I’m skeptical. Folks tell me it will knock me out, send me to La-La-Land. But if that’s for real, why don’t they call it “La-La-Land Gas” ? I mean…how am I supposed to know that laughing is sleeping? Kind of sounds like it got its name from… “They’ll be telling you it will knock you out, that it will kill the pain… but boy… your bod’s gonna just laugh at that idea.”

So I’m a big baby. Duh. Do we have to prove our manhood all the time? Yes, I had my wisdom teeth out – four all at once – long, long ago. Not a good precedent.  That was then, this is now.  And that wasn’t a choice. But to their credit… those guys had me out before I could count back from 20 to 19. They hit me with everything at once: gas, truth serum, Mr. T, Leon Spinks… and the good Lord knows what else… probably the cartoon hammer. I say bring it on! I mean…. let’s not be too worried about long-term side effects, nosirree. If we’re talking painkillers for like… real pain… we can just worry about the long term later.

Then my old roomie emails me to ask what my “pain management plan” is. I told him I was interested, but I didn’t know I was supposed to have one. So he sends me to his website. What I want to tell you now… is never, ever go to a doc’s website. There is “more better data” and then there’s all this stuff you don’t want to know. I got the later. Even watched the videos. Lots of stuff mostly about what can go wrong. Let’s just say that I called to suggest he really ought to take those things off. … ’cause it’s not really good for business. I mean they have some guy listing every possible thing … how many different ways you could end up dead, maimed, dismembered, and in permanent pain. Wow. I guess the lawyers  make them put that there….but my eyes got as big as Buckwheat’s. The fact is that if my guys do have a pain management plan… they aren’t talking. All I hear is about milkshakes and pressure.

So I guess my plan is to say, “Ow. Who’s idea was this?” Seems like the idea came from a committee. I’ve never seen more docs in my life.  And I’m a guy whose dentist used to tell him, “Greatest teeth in my practice.” Okay… so he retired. Now I’m seeing dentists, periodontists, and oral surgeons. Everybody wants in on this puppy. I know the economy’s slowed down a bit and the addition on the house… well… the carpenter doesn’t know where the next job might be… so the bathroom remodel job somehow morphed into an indoor pool off the bedroom.. and that won’t be finished until 2012.

“The bottom’s tiles are coming from Italy.”

All of which leaves me thinking I’d be better off with a stimulus myself. An upper not a downer. ‘Course somehow that seems to run the system in the opposite direction, and I’m sure the doc doesn’t want some guy he’s just caused a lot of pain running around his office and all those “sharp pointy things” hyped up on meds. But it’s beginning to look like a far better idea than any of those crack brained economists can come up with. I’d even give my eye teeth to have a stimulus yesterday… when it would do me some good, but instead… I’ll give some other teeth  tomorrow. My luck.

Anyway, the point of this rambling is if you’re not busy, please pray for me and the whole medical team… not to mention their carpenters, bankers, accountants, video producers and lawyers. I’m hoping this is really no big deal… though yesterday’s elevator ride didn’t help when “Daebo” suggested, “Hmmm. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, man… you’re not going to like it.” Gee… thanks Daebo. Maybe I should start taking the steps? Anyway… thank you. I’ m gonna have to look into fixing the Buckwheat-eye problem, too… but for now, that’s gonna have to wait.

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Not a matter of Intellectual Choice, but a matter of God gathering His people

July 14, 2009

I’ve been steadily but nevertheless leisurely re-reading Fr. Meletios Webbers excellent “Bread & Water, Wine & Oil“.

I confess that a number of Orthotexts find my eyeballs driving through as searching a distant landscape for my set of keys. Many in fact fit this paradigm where the telling is less than what is told, or the nuggets few and far between, but with Fr. Mel, it seems different. His careful writing is less to be plundered than savored, planted, watered, pondered and allowed to sprout and grow as if heirloom seed for a garden within. My sense is that presentation reflects an attitude and a stance matching something of the experience of God, and if this seems worthy, it is equally worth sharing.

In particular, his section on the mystery baptism struck a chord. Maybe it’s that my own introduction to Orthodox worship began with a baptism, or maybe its Fr. Mel’s thorough account, but it seems almost as if he manages to exorcise the page and infuse it with a vision and spirit of the life giving water itself.

More likely it’s not just the way he draws out the tie between the indelible change that occurs and our renewal in Christ, but also my own familiarity as an altar server standing at the side of the font. There is recognition of a reality in the experience of baptism that even as it fleets before us, allows us to see the Body of Christ tied together, even as it includes those other lives elsewhere “belonging to us”.  And this begins something of the reversal of the fragmentation of our lives so that we can say that indeed we are one together,  both young and old, all sharing this same moment in our lives, this same repentance and renewal as persons defined in relationship to Christ Jesus.  And yes, middle age adds some illumination from familiarity with birth and death, youth and age in ways that were more comfortably academic once upon a time, but now seem sadly all too real… and the yearning for common connection finds its place more readily.

And though I might venture to claim that my past as an Anglican, as a collegiate medievalist and cathedral kid prepared me for this, I’ll admit to none of this… nor will I claim that only the virtues of Orthodoxy offered this vision as  legion as these virtues are. For my heart obviously lay elsewhere prior to becoming Orthodox, and what I failed to see earlier and elsewhere may well have been there only my eyes were not inclined to see. Instead, I am more comfortable claiming only that what now I experience is part of where I am. For me, becoming and remaining Orthodox is inseparable with a change in my relationship with God. It might have well happened elsewhere, and indeed it began elsewhere, but the very process drew me here and seemed as if it could only be continued here. And so by God’s grace I remain.

By contrast, Fr. Meletios offers the reflections of an author whose heart has always been Orthodox, and whose decades in the faith offer experiences I can scarcely imagine:

…the whole point of Christian baptism is that the person being baptized should find his or her identity in the Savior. This process commences when the person identifies with Jesus in the Mystery of Baptism, and thus finds his or her identity as a member of the Body of Christ. Later, this identity grows to become the dominant and eternal part of the person’s complete identity. This is the indelible mark of baptism: a person is given a new identity within the Body of Christ and starts a new, eternal life.

..From the moment he or she emerges from the water, a new life begins – marked not by physical characteristics, which remain the same, but by spiritual experience. This spiritual experience is that of being “enlightened.” This enlightenment is not necessarily obvious when it comes to the mind, but finds its expression at a much deeper and more eternal level – the level of awareness, the level of the heart.

…In answer to those who ask whether a child is able to understand what is happening to him, most Orthodox would reply that even an adult does not understand what happens when he participates in the Holy Mysteries. Belonging to the Church is not a matter of intellectual choice, but a matter of God gathering His people.

In a sense, water and death represent two aspects of our life, with water, the source of our life as we understand it, contrasting with the waters of drowning. We cannot accept life without accepting the death that is a part of life. Yet the death we receive in baptism is not the terminal sort of physical death, such as we will experience when we leave this present life. Rather, this is a death of transition, in which, independent of our level of awareness, God effects a lasting change in our nature, and we are transformed from one thing into another – from children of this world into children of the Kingdom of heaven.

If I may, I would add to this that perhaps entry into the Church as a convert is no less a mystery, and no less a matter of God gathering His people, and not so much a matter of intellectual choice as our own convert stories so often suggest. The words spoken on  entry as a catechumen and at Chrismation seem to suggest as much. Moreover, while surely there were years of preparation elsewhere, and I can even begin to guess at fitting the pieces together in a forced mosaic, it hardly seems fair to the process. In the end, the two years spent wandering in-between hardly capture the whole of the journey and seem the least interesting part. What remains is the sense that arriving in the Orthodox Church formed  an immediate recognition of a journey’s end as clearly and concisely as the Latin I used for the original title to this blog: (Veni Vidi Credidi) “I came, I saw, I believed.” More than that, words can only limit, and I’d suppose that even when we are finally reconciled to the wholeness of the mystery of our own conversions, the less said the better.

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Sit Down You’re Rockin’ the (Bass) Boat

July 5, 2009

Spend much time on the water and you’ll learn a thing or two about what those Galilean’s knew. My wife says the first rule is that if you’re on the boat…whatever it is you need… it’ll be on shore. And if you’re on shore… whatever you need will be on the boat. And just to make this game work better… it usually takes about 10 to 20 minutes plus to get from one to the other… at which point it will be come clear you need something else entirely. The second rule is that however long you thought it was gonna take to do something… anything on the water, you’ve underestimated by a factor of at least two and probably more like four. And of course the “you” in this probably ain’t you… as it tends to mean me. So is it any wonder that when the boys finally get back from fishing on the lake of Gennesaret (Luke 5:1-11), things don’t go like they planned? or that the immediate tendency of the crew is to scatter, to head for the hills, the beer… anywhere but back out “with that guy.” Duh. Sounds like my kids… my dog… anyone with a good excuse.

And maybe here these guys were really planning on a decent breakfast… one of those Waterman’s breakfasts that seem to include about half the farm but oddly enough no fish. Or maybe they’d planned on catching some Zebedees…So when Peter, code name “Simon”, gets asked for a boat ride, yu can bet this one went over well. Whatcha gonna say when the Boss says He wants a boat ride? “Sure! Just what I was thinking…. let’s go back out. But hey, gonna half to watch out for the Coast Guard… so maybe you better put on this Life Preserver…. oh… right… my mistake… forgot about Matt’s swimming test. Just use it as a seat or something.”

Acoustics being what they are on the water… if it’s as still as it can be on a Wisconsin lake where the likes of Buddy Melges used to take his shirt off just to feel the wind come up… you can bet it’d be a perfect place to speak to one of those multitudes…. the “extras” always showing up. The folks just want to be together. But Pete might be forgiven for feeling on the spot, and under the pressure of a very public “ask”, even a little irked as if rebuked for not catching anything. Of course that’s not it at all… the Boss just obviously had more important mission-type things on His mind… like lunch… and this time we’re actually on the water and not in some stinkin’ desert… so no need to multiply a leftover fish stick… He just leans over and says, “Hey Pete… how’sa ’bout you throw the nets over?” Really… it’s low key stuff.

Unfortunately for Pete… had just had my luck with lake fishing. I mean… it’s like lake fish don’t quite get the message like on a normal stream or Bay where the currents make more sense. These skittish little critters literally swim in circles… laughing at whatever you throw at them and move on as if to say, “Yeah, we looked it over… but y’know if you want us… we’re gonna be hanging out over yonder. Ciao!” Half the world could haul these babies out by the bushel as easy as one-two-three… but not today. Nope. Today the boys are picky eaters. And yesterday…  is yesterday. Anyway whatever it is, it ain’t today, and if today they’re just not in the mood for gettin’ caught… that’s all there is.

So of course Pete is not only dealing with rule two and the inevitable demoralization of a crew who’s likely in big trouble with the Powers that Be, their “She’s Who Must Be Obeyed”… but Pet’s also dealing with rule one… I mean the nets aren’t even on the boat. And surely someone’s even calling home, sayin’ “Yeah…I know…I know… You’re right… I know I said I’d only be an hour or two… but you know who couldn’t find fish in a bath tub. And of course he wasn’t gonna let us go home either. Even made one of the boys hang his head over the side and try calling them… yeah it was that bad… like it was Flipper. Yeah. Where do they get these guys? Anyway… I’m on shore… at last… but it’s not lookin’ good. I mean you wouldn’t believe it… we’re finally putting everything away… and the new Division Head’s here… yeah… looks like he wants us to go back out… again.”

Oh… and distracted as ever, Pete’s probably mulling the whole name thing … I mean what’s he gonna put on his new fishing toga? Y’know… the one he’s gonna get from the Galiliee Fishing League when Team Simon catches all the fish they’re about to haul on shore… ’cause like God is on their side.? And how’s he gonna tell the Boss… “‘Y’know…everyone calls me Simon… but you can call me Peter.” Maybe another time? So whenever we hear this story… I’m obviously thinking about all the things packed in there, but usually what we hear about it seems to focus on the fishers of men bit.. which of course it is.

But today, we’re hearing it as the Fathers taught, that we’re supposed to be unafraid to go out into the deep and let down our nets… seeking new depths in the spiritual life. No doubt we’re warned as well in this that there can be plenty of times we’ll come up empty, or come back tired, frustrated, and down right unfocused, and it’s the last thing on earth we want to do.. or even our family wants to let us do… to go back out. But there it’ll lie before us. We might even think all we need’s an equipment change… and like “fixing a net” and we might even be tempted to try some other gospel, some other prayer, some other church or word. But that’s not really going to work is it? I mean that’s not the problem.  Seems the point of the story in this reading is that unless we make sure Christ comes with us… or supposing that He does, unless we trust and follow His word… then we’re just doing this on our own… and our labors will come up empty. But when we throw Him on board, when we take Him where He tells us He wants us to go…then the whole of it tends to be not just fruitful… but easy. Yeah… and it’s hard not to miss that we’re likely gonna do this only AFTER we’ve tried everything else first, right?.Because… that’s what my wife calls rule number three and why I love her.

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Ecclesiastical Polities

July 1, 2009

No, this is not what you’re thinking, but yes, there was once a guy named Richard Hooker. Once long ago in galaxy far, far away, I even thought he wrote a few things of value. By many measures, his standards… though perhaps wobblier than Orthodoxy, were certainly far more sure than much of what passes muster these days. But I have no intent to write as he did on Ecclesiastical Polity, but rather something more modest to unload.

I have only a sigh for the state we find ourselves this summer as we approach the season of conferences and conventions… even the celebration of our independence. For these days, my ecclessial home lies in Antioch, and given circumstances where our Patriarch has seemed to stretch his hand to help sort out our situation, I think I find the notions of “autocephaly” and “self-ruled” American Orthodoxy far less compelling, and the “threat” of rule from abroad less ominous or unacceptable than might once have been the case. For that matter, all the bother of whether the whole of the Diaspora should be under the EP seems secondary as well to whether such rule would be good, unify, and evangelize. Maybe I’m just a new guy… but it seems as if there are far too many assumptions, presumptions, and suspicions running around for me to feel comfortable that “goodness” … though always a part… is kept as the core focus in these doings.

And I like Fr. Mel’s notion that we seem inevitably to reach for the the escape clause that allows us to continue “as if” we were about anything other than God’s business “until”… and that’s until any number of subsequent events take place. So in whatever length we can stretch out of the meantime, we go about our business as if we weren’t required to change, or to include God’s purpose as part of our own. It’s handy.  And yet I’m worrying even now where taking this sort of notion seriously is really going to take me… eventually.  I’m not farsighted enough to see it yet., but yes,  I do know that eventually someday it will take me somewhere, and I’m sure I’ll love it, but likely it’ll involve stress, costs, and considerable “give up”. Thankfully, the Holy Trinity in its goodness keeps it hidden from me… so I can keep working on it “as if” to come full circle! Right.

I have enough shame to admit that when I first became Orthodox, I went for the “pure as the driven snow” jurisdiction.  These were the friendly folks who didn’t ask too many questions, demand too many “things”, or spook me with too many-meanies. I mean, I’d already fled a protestant denomination where we’d all gone positively wobbily…  and the warring parties made the Thirty Years War look like a walk in the park. So there seemed no sense in climbing into the middle of a food fight right at the start, or for that matter signing on to an endless do-list as if it weren’t something to contend with. So at least I can claim to have respected the challenge more than my ability to meet it…. but perhaps that’s a weak excuse for a plea for leniency or mercy or oeconomia. These days… I’d be happy to just plead for an economy… somewhere… anywhere… but that’s another story. What I will say is that I thought I’d found precisely the sort of Downy Soft flakes I was looking for: “Pure as the driven snow.”.. and I’d avoided the hot bread war of the folks next door throwing rolls with the best of them down at the Drones Club… only with an “edginess” more commonly associated with the likes of Spode rather than the Code of the Woosters.

And then like Monsieur Rick’s claim in Casablanca’s where “I came for the waters” meets with the resignation of “so… I was misinformed”, I’m finding maybe I fell into the wrong movie. The one thing I do know is that like Dorothy and Toto.. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”  And of course,  P.G.’s  Brits might respond, “Oh!” and “Indeed!” and of course, “Quite!” I’d throw King Kong and Faye in here, but I think it’s getting crowded.

And my guys are already throwing bread (and reaching for the heavy artillery)… while the other guys seem to have shifted their tune, and instead busying themselves “Putting Woolite… in their machine”.  It even looks like their new Metropolitan’s non-stop activities have seen a late substitution of Downy Soft with something more like “New & Improved Super Tide XK!” Yar. I think we’re starting on a case of bona fide “jurisdiction envy”.  Maybe. maybe not.

And so the slogging begins, and I’m given to wonder whether this isn’t some sort of test. Yes… a test of our Holy Synod, of our Metropolitan, our bishops, our clergy and laity… which of course means “moi”, too. And off on the sidelines, it seems more as if there’s a cheer of wonder reminiscent of an old campaign: “Big Boy…. will he stay or go?” And no… I’m not talking about our venerable  Metropolitan, but more like “moi”… or each one of us… I mean… the pond’s pretty small… and the silence is deafening.

And falls the afternoon’s thunderclap of a question:  “What does this really have to do with my salvation?” And I’m thinking that frankly… it doesn’t have much at all to do with it,  or that riling up the folks as some would seem to do is a good thing or likely to assure a more Orthodox spirit among the faithful (an irony, fairly,  not altogether lost on  the part of those agitating for this sort of “action”). And on this I can only pray that those who would lead us to and ostensibly through these Red Seas are as certain about the destination as they seem to be about the passage.

Fairly,  I have no doubt that this test bears in many ways on the salvation of our hierarchs, and by reflection on our own as we are part of each other. Only I don’ t know exactly how these parts fit together or how they bear… it’s simply beyond my ken. But I can and do care… about  each of them, as well as pray for the leadership of godly men and for the repentance and salvation of those who are not… and all that.  But I’d make no pretense at reversing the course of spiritual fatherhood as if we could positively contribute more than presumption without attending first to ourselves. And in this, it seems the gift we might give… and the sort perhaps most needed and required… might not be adulation,  nor revolution… nor even the rise of a “champion” so much as the witnessing of the progress of their flocks continuing to move in love toward salvation… and one another together… and toward them as well. Maybe that’s too mawkishly sentimental… or  too tall an order… but if it is, I’m not sure what else it is we’re supposed to do.

I could no more choose sides without a lot more information than I could presume to read into the heart of another person.  No, I’m not ducking jury duty… I’m just saying that maybe jury duty isn’t what we’re about so much as using the gifts God has given us to discern these things in their course. And it would seem that one of those gifts is time, and God given leadership in our bishops, our Holy Synod and the rest. Maybe at least for now, giving the progress of things, we could and should allow more time to pass for these to work their magic. Pray, and trust God to work out his purpose. If we’re called to play a role, play it. I’m not hearing that call just yet, but perhaps it will come. In the meantime, it seems there may be more wisdom in simply praying that the grace of the Holy Spirit illuminate the hearts of His loving and faithful hierarchs in their time together and apart.. that they may find a solution well pleasing to God.