In the World, but not Of the World

 As Orthodox Christians, we are called to be in the world, but not of the world.  In discussions with some close friends recently, we had occasion to ponder some of the hyper-ascetical movements in modern Orthodoxy, primarily on the internet.  I will decline to discuss the particulars of those movements or the persons who are part of them, as I am not trying to slander anyone or hurt any feelings, and I also have no desire to draw further attention to that sort of thing nor draw their attention to me.  I would like to focus instead on some of the issues we discussed.  

One thing we all noticed was a very narrow focus on canonical rigidity and what they perceive as a "return" to a very strict and vigorous liturgical life.  One bemoaned the loss of daily Orthros and Vespers, claiming these used to be commanded, but then citing to a 6th century decree by the Emperor Justinian.  The concern here is not with the offering of daily offices, obviously.  It is with the denigration of those who either do not or cannot offer them, or attend them.  But even that is not the issue.  To all of us in the discussion, this rigorist insistence on what strikes us as something closer to a monastic-type Christian life came across not as a desire for greater and deeper spirituality, but as a self-righteous means to judge others as insufficiently ascetic. 

We did not conclude this lightly.  One particular comment claimed that the very use of words like "rigorist" or "legalism" is itself indicative of a desire to eschew ANY spiritual work. When the truth is, I own and use a prayer rope, I try to keep up with my daily prayers, I try to read the Scriptures daily, and I try to read something from the life of the saints or other works from prominent Orthodox authors.  Somewhat ironically, given the stereotypes surrounding certain internet personalities, I am currently reading "The Soul After Death" by Father Seraphim Rose.  There are certainly those who are able to draw nearer to the Church, doing far more than I do, and they are to be commended for their labors.  But to make those efforts normative over others, to insist that we "approximate monastics" as one fellow did, and to denigrate those who are unable or unwilling to adopt such strict asceticism, is not a deeper Christian spirituality.  It is Pharisaical. If you wish others to follow your example, you should start by humbly doing your own labors and not judging others.

In addition, it seemed to all of us in the discussion that there was an implicit desire to withdraw from the world, not as monastics per se, but as those who are emphatically not monastics and yet endeavoring to live as if they were.  This struck us as a sort of monastic fetishism, a covetous desiring of that to which one has not been called.  Part of that is what I note above -- the judgment of others who do not follow suit.  But part of it is that there also seems to be a spirit at work here that suggests that the world taints us, as if the world is itself unclean.  And while I agree that Orthodox Christians ought not embrace the world and all its worldly temptations, we are explicitly called by our Lord to go out into the world, taking the light of Christ with us.  In the High Priestly Prayer, Christ said:

I have given them Your word; and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not pray that You should take them out of the world, but that You should keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them by Your truth.

So it is not that we are to withdraw from the world and all its temptations.  Certainly those temptations existed during our Lord's time on this earth, as St. Paul's letters to the Corinthians, the story of St. Photini, and other Scriptures attest.  No, we are called to go into the world with all its temptations (as our Lord Himself did), and we pray that the Father would "keep us from the evil one" as we go.  In this way, Christ sanctifies the world not because of us, but through Himself working in us.  As my priest said in a homily a while back, "even pumping gas becomes a holy act." So the desire to withdraw from the world and its temptations comes across at least like a fantasy, something that goes against that which our Lord Himself called us to do. And that is not to mention, if anything monastics face far greater temptation than those of us in the world.  They have chosen a life of constant spiritual warfare, and they withdraw out of the world precisely to focus on that battle.  Their prayer for the life of the world allows us to enter into the world, girded in battle, to face worldly temptations.  But their life is not ours, and ours is not theirs.  And one ought not pine after the other.

As we were discussing all of this, it occurred to me that what is missing from those who would seek the deepest possible ascetical life and withdraw from all earthly temptation, as best they are able, while simultaneously judging others who live a more normal parish life, is virtue.  And while there is good to be found in limiting temptation within reason, especially those temptations we know ourselves to be most susceptible to, trying to withdraw from the world in order to avoid temptation strikes me as folly.  First, it is impossible.  Even if you try to live in a Christian commune, venturing into the world only to do as little as possible while shielding your eyes, temptation will find you.  Second, it is not truly virtuous.  There is no virtue in never being tempted.  We are called to change our habituation to sin by habituating ourselves to the virtues instead.  And that is done not by avoiding all temptation, but by actively rejecting temptation when it finds us and striving to make the good habitual.

As normal, everyday Orthodox Christians, then, we are to follow the sacramental life of the Church as best we are able, keep the fasts to the best of our ability, pray, read spiritually edifying works, and do good works.  But we are to take those actions into the world, normalizing them, and thereby showing forth Christ, and seeing Christ in our neighbor.  We are not to hide away from the world, nor make a show of our piety as the Pharisees did.  Which is not to say we do not carry our Christian lives into the world.  By all means, wear your cross.  Wear your prayer rope.  Say your prayers.  Carry your well worn copy of Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church.  Read it on the bus or at lunch.  But wear them and say them and carry them and read them because you make use of them, authentically.  And above all, try to see your own sin and not judge your brother.  

It is the authentic Christian life that sanctifies the world.  And for most of us, it is enough of a struggle to simply try and live that life authentically.  That is where you will find virtue.  In the world, but not of the world.