The Troparion of the Mediocre Saint

Somehow I missed it the first time.  I know I missed it because I went and checked the Facebook post where it was first broadcast, and I neither reacted nor responded.  Another friend shared it and somehow I missed that too.  But the post below might be the second best post my friend Steve Robinson has ever made.

Ordinary Saints - by Steve Robinson (substack.com)

I've just had the pleasure of spending quite a lot of time with Steve, along with a whole lot of old friends who are at this point just family members without blood relation.  He saw us laugh.  He saw us cry.  We shared stories.  He told us how to build a mission, and what worked for him.  He had ideas we hadn't conceived of, including a couple that might be implemented shortly.  Steve is now a part of that family.

The occasion was that we invited him to speak at Saint Patrick Orthodox Mission in Carrollton, Georgia.  I won't recount how I got to know Steve online, but the short version is through his podcasts, blogs and later his social media accounts and Substack writings.  As part of that, he spent the better part of the weekend with several of us.  But before he came out, he asked our friend Deborah, one of the co-founders of the mission, if the choir would learn "The Troparion of the Mediocre Saint."

Of course we did.  How could we not?  

There were several problems with the request, the first being that Saint Patrick really doesn't have a choir, and the second being we didn't know the music. The second was alleviated when he sent us the sheet music and we realized it was Obikhod Tone 1, which we know like the back of our hand, having used it for years at Pascha for "O Come Ye, Take Light," and at the dismissal in Vespers for "Preserve O God."  To alleviate the first, we gathered those of us who can and usually do sing, and we did what we had done for years and years, only using different words.

What is remarkable about this is not the hymn itself.  That is obviously parody, though with a ring of truth.  What is remarkable is how Steve sets it up.  He talks about how the Church generally canonizes monastics, or bishops, or other remarkable people who did remarkable things.  He talks about how very few married people are glorified by the Church.  But he notes -- correctly -- that being recognized as a saint and BEING a saint are two different things.  There are saints we know, because the Church has shown them forth.  But there are saints we do not know, which is why we still celebrate All Saints Day the first Sunday after Pentecost.  This Troparion was written not to mock the Church, but to recognize with faithfulness and love that the Church knows her own.  God knows His own.  And the fact that someone didn't make it on our calendar does not mean that person did not make it into God's Kingdom. The words of the Troparion are cheeky, but well stated:

By not cursing in rush hour traffic

Thou hast found the way to Divine contemplation

And by working nine to five at a mind numbing desk job for twenty years

To feed thy family thou hast broken the snares of the enemy

By not judging the people of Wal-Mart

Thou hast shown thyself to be an enlightener of all O pure one

Thou hast kept the faith even through the raising of teenage daughters

O holy husband and daddy Bob, entreat Christ God to save our souls

If you watch the video you will see me (singing bass on the far right) look at my youngest, who is singing alto in the choir, and my middle daughter, who is sitting behind her with my wife, at the lyric "raising of teenage daughters." All in good fun.

To be counted among the Saints by the Church, to be glorified in that way, canonized and placed on the calendar, is a great honor. But it is an honor almost exclusively reserved to those who do not seek it.  In today's Orthodox world, a lot of emphasis is placed on looking, acting, talking, and interacting as Orthodox Christians, by which is meant an outward expression. At times it can feel more like a club than a family.  Like people who wear similar clothing or share the same hobbies not because they are into that style or recreation, but because they want to belong in the same group.  But in the Church, in the real world, often what our neighbor needs is not what we think "being an Orthodox Christian" looks like.  Steve told us about caring for his elderly parents.  And that involves choices.  Do I clean and bathe someone who can no longer clean and bathe herself, or do I spend 30 minutes in front of the icon corner saying my prayers?  Do I take dad to the hospital, or do I go to that service that was appointed this week?

Those are really clear examples.  But there are other things, including work obligations, family obligations, taking care of friends in need, which also stand in the way of "the stuff" some folks think makes us Orthodox Christians.  We should no more show forth those things to the world than "the stuff."  Cosplaying the things of God is bad no matter what form it takes.  But the point is, there are a lot more Orthodox lay Christians caring for elderly parents and helping friends who need help and taking the time to fix the sink than there are those who maintain a monastic prayer calendar and attend all the services.  

Our beloved former priest, Father Andrew, once told me "everyone wants a ministry in the Church.  Some folks want to go to the chanter stand or the choir while the chrism is still wet.  Some want to be on a committee or the parish council.  But nobody seems to want the ministry of taking out the trash and cleaning the toilets."  All of those things honor Christ, and in equal measure. And while some of those "ministries" are more visible, there are downsides to visibility.  The cassock sets me apart, but it is often heavy with the weight of responsibility that comes with it.  To the extent that I have to be sure to stand a certain way, not make the sign of the cross in the wrong place, be sure to read the words correctly and sing the hymn properly, and know when those things are to be done. It also carries with it a lot of obedience, to a lot of people.  I answer mainly to the priest, but I am also responsible to answer to the choir director, my brother readers, etc.  There is no glory in taking out the trash.  But no one is likely to give you problems about how you do it.  Visibility has a cost.

Granted, this is also not an either/or question.  We ought to maintain a prayer rule and go to as many services as we can, keep the fasts, celebrate the feasts.  We are called to do that in community.  And we ought to serve where we are called.  My reservations about the weight of the cassock do not outweigh the responsibility I owe to the Church, having accepted it and been blessed by Bishop Antoun, of blessed memory, to wear it.  But we ought not get wrapped around the axle trying to divy up those responsibilities either.  Rather, we should let Christ find us as He pleases, whether it is in the friend who needs help or at the altar on Thursday night for a particular feast or at the chanter stand or cleaning the toilets.  God is with us in all these things.   

The Audacity of Indifference to Spiritual Children

In my last post I mentioned how we are saved in community.  One part of that is that we bear one another's burdens and take care for our brethren.  I also mentioned, however much in passing, some of the hurt that has been caused to my family and friends by the Church.  I have come to realize of late that of all the things that have harmed us in the Church these past few years, the major ones all boil down to the same thing.  In the end, the people charged with exercising authority in our now-former Archdiocese simply do not care about me, or my family, or my friends, or their families.  And I write this not to out anyone or "raise awareness" or some other such modernist trope.  I write it because I think it is vitally important that people know the difference and treat one another accordingly.  

To give context to the sort of care I'm talking about, my current priest, Father Paul, calls me every few weeks whether I need to receive a call or not.  Sometimes he calls to ask how my wife or kids are doing.  Sometimes he calls to ask me to pray for him.  Sometimes he calls me to discuss logistics of my service to the Church (I am a Reader).  Sometimes he just calls to see how things are going with me. The priest at my mission parish's mother church also knows me pretty well.  He doesn't call or text -- he is not, after all, my priest or spiritual father.  But every time I see him he is sure to come up and tell me it's good to see me, to ask how things are going.  He speaks to my wife and my children when we visit his parish.  I have only met our current bishop once, and he is quite shy so he's usually not up for long conversation, but I'd wager if he thought there was a problem with me or my family, he or someone in his orbit (the auxiliary bishop, the chancellor of our diocese, the dean, someone) would contact me.  

That, unfortunately, has not been our experience with the hierarchs and administrators at our now-former Archdiocese.  Right after my family and I left our now-former parish, six people from that parish (comprising three families, including ours) wrote an eight-page letter to the bishop letting him know about certain concerns with the parish.  I have never published that letter and will not do so now, but suffice it to say it was thorough, if irenic.  We were not trying to do harm.  We were trying to facilitate healing.  The bishop waited about a month, and then on very short notice (less than a day) let us know he wanted to meet with us as couples, but separately (so, three meetings over the course of a couple of days).  I feel comfortable saying it is the universal and unanimous opinion of all three families that those visits did far more harm than good.  None of us felt as if we were taken seriously, and before long another of the three families left the parish as a direct result of not being taken seriously and the concerns we raised being essentially ignored.  At the conclusion of the meeting with my wife and I, the bishop told us he would be in touch, that in his words, "we will continue this conversation."  That is the last any of us ever heard from him.  That was a year and a half ago.  

Were that the end of it, perhaps I wouldn't think about it as much as I do now.  But without revealing confidences, I can add that this is not the only time this has happened.  Some of the same issues have now been elevated to the Metropolitan by others, with our names attached to them.  Although this happened months ago (prior to Great Lent), we have yet to hear from the Metropolitan, or his protosyngellos, or anyone else in the Archdiocese, and as noted above, certainly not from the bishop in question.  Not even to ask "how is your family doing?"  Not even to ask "are you being cared for in your current parish?"  Not even to say "we hear you and we're looking into your concerns."

Not even to say "we're glad you're gone and good riddance."

Literally nothing. 

The good news is, we are being cared for in our current parish.  The bad news is, we are not all well. We have friends who have suffered the same indifference.  The people who are supposed to address their concerns are cruelly silent, especially towards their families.  Not one person at the diocesan or Archdiocesan level has asked how my kids are doing, for instance, even on that one occasion where the bishop met with us.  I have considered writing the Metropolitan myself.  That is inconsistent with my desire to move on and let it go.  And yet, it is hard to let it go, because the fact that the same issues have been raised to the Archdiocesan level highlights the lack of concern, which remains constantly apparent in its deafening silence.  None of them care.  If they did, they would at least acknowledge our existence and the existence of our concerns.  

I sometimes wonder whether we have been too quiet.  We certainly tried to leave quietly, with a hiccup or two here or there where we said more than hindsight may have deemed prudent.  I wonder if making more noise might have gotten enough attention to at least have us feel validated, heard, somewhat understood, or at least acknowledged.  But in the end, things happen the way they happen for a reason.  And at least part of the reason this has happened to us, I believe, is to demonstrate to us the damage that indifference does to a soul.  And to show us that being a Christian is not simply going to Liturgy, saying your prayers, and fasting at the right times.  It is loving your neighbor, and truly loving them enough to say "I see you, I hear you, and I love you."  Those things are not implied by your silence, especially when you know.  And rest assured, they know. We tried to leave quietly, so it's fair to say most of our friends do not know.  I do not blame them for their silence.  But the people in authority and with the God-given responsibility to do something about it know.  And their silence is inexcusable.  Good fathers do not ignore their children. 

The famous British abolitionist, William Wilberforce, once gave a speech to the House of Commons outlining the cruelty and injustice of the slave trade.  At the end he said “having heard all this you may choose to look the other way but you can never say again that you did not know.”  The Archdiocese has thus far chosen to look the other way.  But it cannot say that it does not know.  And the fact that it knows means its indifference to us as people comes across as cruelty.  It demonstrates an utter lack of care or respect for those Christ has charged it with shepherding.

Again, I do not write all of this to stir outrage, or provoke anger.  I write it to remind us all to be attentive to one another.  Thanks be to God my family and I are now shepherded by a priest, a bishop, a community, and a parish full of people who care, and show it.  We have a good circle of friends to lean on.  We have our friends in neighboring Orthodox parishes, and their priests.  We have lost very few of our old friends and gained so many new ones.  God grant me to show care to all of them, to my children, my friends, my spiritual brethren, and all within my orbit. Because this lesson is not just for the hierarchs.  It's for me.  Having seen the damage that is done by their indifference to me and mine, I too can never say again that I do not know the damage my indifference does to those around me.  God grant me to do better.

Count the Cost

 

The Church does not exist in isolation.  As I have said here before, we are saved in community.  

Given that, those in the Church are accountable, not only to God, but to one another.  This is true from laymen all the way up to Patriarchs. The higher up that ladder you climb, the more accountable you are, because your words and actions impact more people.

Those of us who have been damaged by the Church perhaps see this more clearly than those whose glasses are a bit more rose-tinted.  Once the Church has hurt you, it is hard to trust in her again. This is especially true when it is not that one person at the parish who grates on your nerves, but your priest, your bishop, perhaps even your Metropolitan.  There is a cost associated with malfeasance.  There is a cost associated with dishonesty.  There is a cost associated with manipulation and deceit.  And that cost is too often measured in the souls who leave the Church entirely, or leave the Orthodox Church seeking refuge elsewhere.  And even when it is not, it is too often measured in the damage to souls who no longer trust, waiting instead for that next shoe to drop.

And yet, as those who have been damaged by the Church, hurt by her clergy and disappointed by her laity, we too have a cost associated with our guardedness, our timidity, and our distrust.  We dare not let the damage done to us become damage to others.  We cannot let our defensiveness damage the souls of those who have reason to trust, and do so innocently.  If we do, we become like the serpent, tempting Adam and Eve to know good and evil, when they already knew good and could only learn evil.  

My simple point is this -- whatever your journey, whatever damage is in your rear-view mirror (or not), and whatever your station -- before you speak, and before you act, count the cost.  The Orthodox Church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.  Our words and actions are more like hand grenades than arrows, and innocent souls are watching.  God forgive this sinner where I have failed in this.

Abundance

As we approach Pascha, we will soon have the blessing of the meats and cheeses from which we have fasted during Great Lent.  The Church fasts in order that the Church might feast.  In talking with my priest last week, he brought up something that has stuck with me since.  Having had time to reflect on it a bit, I wanted to write about abundance.

This was not in the context of worldly abundance, such as we will enjoy in a little over a week from now.  Rather, it was in the context of the things of God -- grace, repentance, forgiveness, and love.  The discussion was about how we tend to categorize things in terms of what is just good enough when it comes to spiritual things, but we're eager to get more than enough of worldly things.  And in talking about those spiritual gifts, Father said "why can't we think more in terms of abundance?"  What he meant was not that we should hoard God's gifts, nor that we should be prideful in how many we can "collect," because that is the wrong framework.  Orthodoxy has never been about balancing out good deeds versus evil deeds, or measuring how well we are keeping up with the various gifts the Church has to offer us versus our neighbor.  Rather, he was saying that we should stop thinking in terms of checking boxes, or doing the minimum required, or how much we receive versus how much our neighbor receives.  Do you attend every service, say all your prayers, keep the fasts strictly, do prostrations and say akathists and all that to your heart's content?  May you ever be blessed.

But if you do not, as most of us do not, then instead of mourning that you do not have time, or that you are inattentive, or that the world drags your attention away, why not instead be thankful for what you are able to do, and where you think you might fall short, resolve to do more?  Not someday, but today.  For those services you can attend, the prayers you do say, the fasting you can do, the love you can give, the service you can provide, be thankful.  God meets you there, and any encounter with God's grace is a good encounter.

The entire Christian life is this way.  We are not collecting chips to cash in on judgment day.  We are actually entering into His life, encountering Him, and walking with Him.  If we're doing that a little, then we still have it all, for God is with us.  If we do it much, then all the more blessed are we, not because we will one day gain Heaven, but because Heaven starts right now.  In the Church.  At our baptism.  In this life.  And the more we enter into it, the more we understand how blessed we are to encounter Him at all, and the more we want to continue in this blessed life He has given to us.  To ask the question "how much grace is enough grace" misses the entire point.  God gives you all the grace you require however and wherever you meet Him.  

So instead of wishing we could do more, or mourning that we do not do enough, or thinking we have done more than others, let us stop thinking in terms of measuring salvation at all and begin thinking in terms of entering into the life of God. He will soon enter Jerusalem on the foal of an ass, and as Father said last year at this time, it is not so that some pagan king can be executed, but so that death itself can be executed.  And a week later, He will be crucified, die, and be buried, so that He may rise again on the third day giving life to the world.  It is that life we seek.  Measuring how fully we receive it runs the risk of either denigrating the gift (if we think we have done less than we ought) or discouraging us from entering into it more fully (when we think we have done enough).  Instead, we should be thankful for His abundance, in whatever measure it finds us.  It is in that simple act of thanksgiving, and not in boasting or mourning in the measure of His abundance, that we will find ourselves wanting to enter into His life more deeply.

Kat Von D

 

Kat Von D is a famous tattoo artist, entrepreneur, and musician, a lady whose fame began on the show "Miami Ink," and later spawned her own show, "LA Ink."  I've always found her a fascinating person for a lot of reasons.  She dresses like a goth princess, but one of her subspecialties is tattooing religious art (usually Catholic, but others as well).  She is a well known alcoholic and drug abuser, though thankfully recovering.  She has dabbled in New Age religious practices, and has been vocal about that.  

She was also baptized as a Christian not very long ago, and posted it on social media.  I found this largely unsurprising.  Despite her appearance and previous lifestyle, she has always struck me as having a kind and loving heart and a real passion for helping people.  She loves her parents and she loves her clients and co-workers and friends.  She was "living the life" before her conversion, despite her many sins, in many ways more so than some who bore the name of Christ long before she did. She, at least, wore her sins on her sleeve. We tend to hide ours with pretense and self-righteousness, and then lecture to others based on superficial nonsense.

I generally dislike pop-culture Christianity, and I don't like the practice of taking popular figures and blowing their conversion stories out of proportion.  In general, I wouldn't write about a Baptist Christian's conversion on an Orthodox Christian blog, not because I have anything against Baptists (most of my family is still Baptist), but because it doesn't really fit here.  In this case, however, there are several things about her story that I find compelling.

Kat, whose actual name is Katherine von Drachenberg, was raised by Christian missionaries, but left the faith, more or less, as a teenager, around the time she began tattooing and also drinking.  She ran away from home and then was sent to a couple of homes that were sort of "scared straight" type places.  She did not have kind words for them in this interview.  In fact, she suggested they should be illegal, and that she witnessed abuse there.  She talked a lot about her upbringing and the fact that she abandoned the faith not because she was driven away, but rather because she had questions and her parents and other authority figures did not have answers for her.  But it was obvious being sent to a couple of group homes to "straighten her out" really did more harm than good.

She talked about the impact of fame on her life, of seeking out tattooing because it was a way to meld her artistic talent with her love of helping people.  She talked about the negative impact of addiction and her lifestyle on her personal life, overcoming addiction, and then eventually making her way back to God.

Some of the most fascinating parts of the interview dealt with her conversion story itself, and how it was received not only by her non-Christian fans, but also by Christians who responded to her.  Her strongest criticism was of the Christians, and hearing her tell her story, I can see why.  She talked about self-righteousness, smugness, and the holier-than-thou attitudes of some of the respondents.  Many of them criticized her for being insincere and engaging in a publicity stunt.  Some criticized those who celebrated her baptism -- in the church building -- as looking like witches.  She spoke specifically about people who commented that they will not believe in the sincerity of her conversion until it "bore fruit," which apparently should include a change in her appearance.  And on the opposite side, she spoke of how her journey back to Christ included the influence of two men -- Marilyn Manson and Alice Cooper -- who a lot of Christians might think demonic, simply because of the way they look.  This even though Alice Cooper has been a Christian for a long, long time at this point.

Another interesting line of discussion was the fact that she appreciates the concept of sacred space, and does not want to go to church to see a concert or performance.  She thinks the music in church ought to be set aside for that purpose.  She doesn't judge those who think differently, but it's interesting to see someone so new to the faith embrace the idea that worship ought to be worshipful.  She also spoke about this from the opposite perspective.  She said she doesn't think being a Christian means she has to stop listening to The Cure or Depeche Mode, although she did say her faith now influences the type of music she makes and listens to, and has also influenced her husband, a musician, in a similar way.

She talked a lot about the difference between New Age "seekers" and truly demonic practices, emphasizing that while she wanted to get rid of her books on Tarot and spells and meditation and the like, it was more because she saw them as crutches, or as she later put it, "band aids on a sinking ship."  They gave her some temporary relief, but were never life-changing in the way her conversion to Christ was.

There were a few main points of emphasis that I took away from this interview, which I think are pertinent to the Christian faith in general, and to Orthodox Christianity in particular.  

She spoke a lot about not being a stumbling block to people who are different, or struggling.  One can easily see someone who looks like her walking into a church and being received coldly.  Thankfully, she was not.  But she spoke a lot about the fact that we cannot know where someone is in their journey, and that superficial judgment can drive people away from the faith. She emphasized that outward appearance, or even just being different, tends to invite judgment, and she specifically spoke about instances where Christians had spoke about her poorly or treated her poorly.

She talked about how despite her departure from the faith for a long time, the seeds were sown in her childhood, and it was those seeds that brought her back.  Her parents' lack of judgment, and obvious love for her, ultimately allowed her to return to the faith of her childhood.  As parents, we never know how our children will fare once we let them loose into the world.  But we can teach them well, and pray for them, and love them.  And sometimes, it is that faith and love that ends up paving the way for their return to Christ. 

She discussed how she deals with people who attack her, and this was perhaps the most interesting part.  She sees a cultural sickness, especially on social media, where people have a zeal to try to "pick apart" (her words) others, to criticize them and drag them down.  And she said at one point, instead of doing that "I wish people would just pray for them." She also mentioned having friends who are still addicts and prostitutes and have troubled marriages and so forth, and how she will not abandon them now that she is a Christian. She simply loves and prays for them.  

She talked about the historical proofs for Christianity, and the fact that there were, in fact, answers to the questions she had.  I found this particularly fascinating since it is Christian history that ultimately led me to the Orthodox Church. 

She seemed perturbed that some people called her a "baby Christian." I think this is because it was given to her as a pejorative.  And that is tragic.  Everyone was at some point a "baby Christian."  And many Christians who have been Christians for decades have a superficial understanding of the faith.  Kat Von D is a baby Christian, for sure, but there is no shame in that.  She said in this interview she did not see her zeal ever waning (the byline in the video is "I'm on fire for Jesus" after all).  But it might.  As baby Christians, everything is new and exciting and there is so much to learn and explore.  Christianity on the ground is messier than that, and it can be discouraging, overwhelming, and depressing at times.  So while I hope her zeal never wanes, if it does, it will be the encouragement and love of her fellow Christians that will bring her through it. More to the point, if it does, having a bunch of online Christian nannies saying "I told you so" will only drive her away, maybe for good this time.  This is one reason I tend to dislike overinflating the conversion stories of the famous.  They might disappoint us, and in our disappointment, we might be tempted to forget that it was love that drew her in, and only love that will see her through tough times.

And that is probably the main takeaway from this interview that I think is instructive to us Orthodox Christians today.  Kat Von D is the opposite of a poster child for what most people think a Christian should look like, or even be like.  But despite that, she has love, and she seeks only love.  There is a lot of talk of late about the newly coined concept of "othering."  Meaning, we treat people like they are not one of us, often superficially.  But this has no place in the Christian Church.  I recently ran across a quote from Fr. Thomas Hopko that is on point here:

"Now some kinda fancy thinkers like to think things, and say: 'Oh, well, people are sinners, but you love Christ in that person, you love the Image of God in that person.'  Well baloney!  Jesus didn't say 'love the Image of God in that person.'  He didn't say 'love Me in that person.' He said: 'love that person, and you will be loving Me. Because I have identified with every human being on the face of the earth.  Everyone, whoever they are.'"

Father Tom was the Dean Emeritus of St. Vladimir Orthodox seminary, a learned man, well credentialed, who looked exactly like you would expect a Christian to look, and who is beloved of Orthodox Christians the world over.  It is worth noting that a "baby Christian" covered in tattoos who dresses in black and wears white makeup on her face and wears bright red lipstick and has lived a hard and at times overtly sinful life came to the same conclusion he did.  Glory to God.

It's Simple, Part 2

I wrote a while back on the simplicity of the Orthodox Christian life, and I return to it because of a conversation some friends and I had about mutual friends who were raised in a non-Chalcedonean church but made their way to our little parish and are the most delightful people.  The conversation centered around things like reception and worthiness.

Now, people who know me know I am not some wild-eyed ecumenist, looking to paper over real differences and just get along despite very serious doctrinal errors.  I take the truth of the Orthodox Church seriously.  It's one reason why I am an Orthodox Christian.

But there are a lot more people in the world who are not, as the comedian Brother Dave Gardner once said, "educated beyond their capacity," than those who are.  And a seminary degree, or a St. Stephen Certificate (as I hold), is not a sufficient condition for salvation.  These things are nice to have, and it's interesting to study the faith and Church history, but knowledge does not save.  Belief does not save.  And certainly, ideology does not save.

The people we were talking about have no seminary education.  They likely do not know precisely why the church they grew up in believes differently than the one they found themselves in, halfway around the world.  To the extent they do, it obviously does not matter enough to them to maintain the division (with apologies to our non-Chalcedonean friends).  But they pray, and they love, and they enter into the Christian life far more deeply than I do, to my shame.  And they have done this, simply, their entire lives.  They are model Christians.

So I'm not writing this to suggest our differences do not matter.  They do.  I am writing this to suggest that perhaps those differences, once they are sorted out and identified sufficiently to warn the faithful of error, ought take a backseat to the simple, faithful, loving act of living within the Church and praying for the salvation of all.  I don't know how precise the theological constructs of our Oriental Orthodox turned Eastern Orthodox friends are.  I could not tell you what the depth of their knowledge about God is.  But knowing about God is not our aim.  Knowing God is our aim.  And I can tell you with certainty, these folks know God.  Because knowing God is simple, and we tend to complicate it.

Truth, Error, Ecclesiology, and Unity

"We who wish to remain in the true tradition of Orthodoxy will have to be zealous and firm in our Orthodoxy without being fanatics, and without presuming to teach our bishops what they should do. Above all, we must strive to preserve the true fragrance of Orthodoxy, being at least a little 'not of this world,' detached from all the cares and politics even of the Church, nourishing ourselves in the otherworldly food the Church gives us in such abundance."


-- Fr. Seraphim Rose

"An Orthodoxy, even an eschatologically motivated Orthodoxy, that prioritizes self-will, prelest-ridden certainty, and fanaticism about every jot and tittle, over charity, unity, and obedience to rightful episcopal authority is not Orthodoxy at all. History is littered with the detritus of sectarians who thought their own issue de jour worth disobedience and schism. They lie in unconsecrated ground, forgotten by all but historians, while the Body of Christ remains."

-- Fr. Cassian Sibley

The second quote above is a comment Fr. Cassian Sibley, a ROCOR priest, made to someone who implied, through a series of disjointed quotes from various Fathers and saints, that Fr. Seraphim's quote did not teach what it says.  The first is the quote from Fr. Seraphim Rose, who was a ROCOR priestmonk before his untimely passing, that was the subject of Fr. Cassian's post.  I am in agreement with what Fr. Cassian writes, and obviously also with what Fr. Seraphim wrote.  But I think Fr. Cassian's response deserves some unpacking to demonstrate why he is correct, particularly in these times.

Fr. Cassian's main point was that Fr. Seraphim is often misquoted, and is done a disservice by his fans and critics alike.  I also agree with this point, having dove into Fr. Seraphim's writings of late and discovered they do not really resemble either the rigorist Phariseeism of some of his more vocal fans, nor the disjointed novelty of some of his more vocal critics.  But leaving that aside for the moment, it seems to me what he says above is properly basic Orthodox doctrine, as is what Fr. Cassian writes.  

I wrote recently about the anti-ecumenist movement, a movement with which I share some sympathies, but cannot fully embrace because in my estimation it, or at least certain corners of it, has metastasized into an ideological purity cult rather than a healthy desire to keep the Church and her teaching pure.  The Orthodox Church cannot dilute her dogma in order to appease those who might join us and increase our numbers.  Nor can we afford to pretend differences in dogma don't exist, or perhaps worse, don't matter.  But what I tend to see from this camp, which to be fair is mostly on the internet, is a movement that repeats the false teachings of schismatics, but still operates from within the Church, eating apart the Church from the inside out.  This is seen in some of the replies to Fr. Cassian, which draw from the words and thinking of actual schismatics (and in some cases in this particular post were actually written by actual schismatics), and also from the reply of the person to whom Fr. Cassian replied.

The Church, if it is anything, is the communion of Orthodox bishops, preserving the faith from the Apostles through the present day.  To hear some tell it, the bishops today are all (or mostly) in error, having given into the ecumenical movement in 1965 and ever since having watered down the true faith.  And yet, if this is true, why do those same people remain in communion with those bishops?  Rather than staying behind and attempting to strong-arm the bishops to repentance, and in some cases encouraging disobedience to them if they say something "uncanonical" (which tends to be in the eye of the beholder in these discussions), why not join one of the schismatic groups that are no longer in communion with the supposedly erring bishops?  Or why not utilize the process one can go through to escalate concerns above one's bishop?  I have only contacted my bishop one time to complain about anything, and not having received a response I found satisfactory, I could have elevated that to the Metropolitan and, if need be, higher.  Everyone in the Orthodox Church is in obedience to someone else, after all.  I elected not to do that for reasons that are mine, mostly because I did not think it worth any greater breach of peace and my family and I, with the express blessing of both our former priest and our new priest, had already moved on to another parish under another bishop.  So in the end, I elected to move on in peace rather than continue to quarrel and cause more discord.  And yet, for some reason, some folks stay within the Church, remain under canonically Orthodox bishops and priests (or not, in at least one case), and refuse to work within that organizational structure, opting instead to encourage disobedience and open rebellion.  

I think the reason why is pretty simple -- incrementalism, which is a fundamentally dishonest pursuit, at least as applied here.  Rather than do the honorable thing and leave, or stay and openly confess against the supposedly erring hierarchs, they wish to change the teaching of the Church to suit their narrow view of it, and are willing to wait things out in order to do it, taking ground where they can.  They know they cannot change the teaching of the Church by consensus.  If they could, they would not resort to dishonesty and encourage disobedience, but rather would enter into dialogue with the bishops and others in order to reach fraternal agreement in love.  Instead, they apply outside influence on the Episcopacy, sort of a pressure campaign, which on the internet tends to overstate the reach and influence they actually wield, and lacking a similarly coordinated and organized effort in support of the bishops on whatever issue is being pushed, it is hoped the bishops will cave. And in some cases, they have, and I assume over time, more will. It is, then, up to the bishops to maintain proper Orthodox teaching and practice and refuse to give in to pressure groups, whether they come from within or without the Church.  And it is my prayer and belief that while some have caved and more will cave, most have not, and most will not.

Ironically, this incrementalist approach is not at all unlike the approach taken by others who wish to change the teachings of the Church in the other direction.  Birds of a feather might not see eye to eye on what the problems are, but they sure seem to flock together when it comes to how to achieve their ends.  It is an uncomfortable irony, then, that the Church's "right wing" and "left wing" (I acknowledge these political terms don't fit neatly in this context) seem to share the same playbook.

In my limited experience, the line for "canonical" or "Patristic" Orthodoxy is narrowly drawn by these pseudo-schismatics.  In the case of the insistence of baptizing converts, as just one example among many, it is drawn directly from St. Cyprian through a handful of his contemporaries, and then through the Kollyvades Fathers and current Athonite factions.  The history of the Church is long and varied and not nearly as neat and clean as they pretend it to be.  In addition, Mount Athos is hardly one conglomerate of Orthodox thinking, but rather is a group of 20 monasteries with at least some variance in their stances on issues of importance in the Orthodox Church.  More, the Athonite monasteries and their associated Sketes are not independent communities, but are themselves under the authority of a bishop.  When they disagree with their bishop, they tend to do so directly, not behind the scenes, and certainly not by merely ignoring the bishop, or worse, by lying to him. Saint Maximus the Confessor did not have his tongue cut out and his hand cut off because he snuck around behind the backs of the hierarchs.  He was mutilated and tortured precisely because he stood firm and resolute, defying those bishops (including debating the Patriarch of Constantinople and winning him over to the Orthodox position!) and ultimately dying in exile.  Confessors confess, and they do so directly, not in secret.

So what Fr. Cassian writes is both on the nose and directly relatable to what we see in the world of internet "Orthodoxy" today.  Fr. Cassian is no shrinking violet.  He tends to speak his mind and speak it well, and I have always valued his insights.  More, as a ROCOR priest, it is at least possible, perhaps likely (though I have not asked him), that he receives converts from heterodox traditions by baptism.  So one would not necessarily assume he is "against" the position I use as an example in the preceding paragraph.  Nor am I, as my current priest receives converts typically by baptism.  But Fr. Cassian knows, and says forthrightly here, that whatever his preference, it does not allow him to disobey his bishop.  Persuasion is how consensus has historically been reached in the Church.  People encouraging priests and laity to be disobedient to their bishops refuse to let their "yes" be yes and their "no" be no. And it is not limited to them -- their incitement and encouragement lead others to do likewise. 

As I posted on my Facebook page recently, you have as one example this person who literally lied to his priest about whether he was baptized in order to get the reception into the Church that he wants, rather than that which the Church has prescribed him:

And this person, who suggests that lying is somehow both a Scriptural and Patristic behavior, and a virtue among the Fathers (rather than a gross exception, and probably one worthy of a confession at that):

False witness is not a virtue.  Lying to your priests and hierarchs to manipulate them is not a Christian behavior.  And leaving aside the issue of baptizing converts, we could as easily discuss the Church's response to COVID, and the varying ways in which hierarchs tried to balance public safety and political concerns (such as the threat that their parishes would be shut down entirely rather than being allowed by the government to remain open partially), over and against the sacred Mysteries of the Church, and how best to ensure the faithful are able to receive them in proper abundance.  I am not so bold to suggest that any hierarch or jurisdiction got that exactly correct.  They, on the other hand, have a tendency to suggest they mostly got it incorrect, and that their failure to navigate an unprecedented circumstance with precision and purity amounts to the bishops being "wolves," "heretics," and the like.  So I ask again, if you think your priest and bishop are "ecumenists," and that "ecumenism" is a grave sin (both of which seem apparent from the comment to which Fr. Cassian replied), or if you think they are "wolves" ravaging the flock openly, why are you joining them to begin with?  Why not go to a communion that will receive you as you wish to be received?  They exist, both within and without the Church. Why not fraternally and lovingly exhort them to greater faithfulness, instead of amplifying their supposed faithlessness?

The answer is some of these folks want what they want, and they are willing to sacrifice fraternal consensus and unity to get it.  In the end, this is all self will and pride, neither of which leads to salvation. It is dangerous to the unity of the Church.  And it is wrong.  The bishops are not always right.  But they at least have the Episcopal grace to make those calls.  Where we disagree, we are to do so openly in love and in the spirit of truth, not by backbiting, slander and rebellion.  God help us if we forget that.