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Since it has been three months since I have posted here, I need to make a decision about what I want to do here and what direction I want to go in.  It astounds me that this blog still gets about 30 hits a day from all kinds of different places and that some of my oldest posts are the most popular.

Discussions of gender and sexuality I would like to retreat from.  My views on humanity expressed in maleness and femaleness are not only objectionable to the vast majority of my fellow Christians, but lo and behold, they may not even be as Orthodox as I thought they were.  Exposure to some of St. Maximus the Confessor’s thinking on man as male and female dislodged me from my dogmatic slumber.

The problem with binary solutions to everything – prickly Malacandrian Blog And Mabloggery over and against gooey Perelandran Sexual Existentialism – is that they foster that continual us-vs-them low-grade conflict that militates against our salvation.  As Father Philotheos Faros points out in Functional And Dysfunctional Christianity, individuals define themselves over against, and in competition with, other individuals.  Odio ergo sum.  On the other hand, persons can only come into the fullness of their personhood in communion with other persons, who will supply what is lacking.

That’s a hard word for me.  I am deeply invested in being right.  I need to adopt the attitude of Matushka Elizabeth, the beloved virgin-wife of St. John of Kronstadt: “I am content to let God reveal who is right and who is wrong.”


After resisting the temptation for almost twenty years, I finally started reading Robert Jordan’s series The Wheel Of Time.  I had heard a lot of things that were not good about this series; that it is over-written, that Jordan reuses the same female character over and over again, that it suffers from a lack of focus.  Although it is hard to judge from reading the first volume of the series, The Eye Of The World, I can see justification for all of those criticisms.

One thing that annoys me is how often his characters chuckle.  I have had to learn to un-notice this lest it distract me from the 69ce7060db8f84725b405b10dd982607other virtues of Jordan’s storytelling.  It is true that Jordan (actually pulp writer James Oliver Rigney, Jr) is wordy.  If Joe Abercrombie had written this series, there would have been three or four sharply written battles by now.  If George R.R. Martin had written it, half of the characters in whom I had invested my emotional capital would already have been killed off in unexpected ways.  If JRR Tolkien had written it, I would already have been exposed to a half-dozen invented languages.  Jordan has just moved me about two hundred miles down the road from the protagonists’ home turf, and nothing much has happened yet.

Oh well.

Jordan/Rigney is American, and rumor has reached me that a lot of the sturm und drang of postwar American life finds a reflection in The Wheel of Time.  Having slogged through Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, and having unexpectedly enjoyed the experience, I am willing to give Jordan/Rigney the benefit of the doubt.  I have also heard that his female characters get better and more full-orbed, although I don’t expect them to rise to level of Martin’s.


Anyone who expects the Orthodox observance of Lent to make them a better person or a better Christian is laboring under a severe delusion.  We’re about halfway through now, and never have I felt more like human refuse than I feel right now.  I have to admit my cowardice, my love of comfort and convenience, my propensity for judging others harshly and demanding special consideration for myself, my snippiness and shortness with my wife, my family and my fellow parishioners.  What makes it worse is that I have to admit that even repentance and confession is not likely to make me any better.  Maybe if I undertook some severe spiritual chemotherapy á la St. Mary of Egypt it might make some dent in my habitual solipsism…

When the fast ends, I will return to my normal self-indulgent lifestyle with a sigh of relief.  The additional calories will be put to use not in service to God and others, but towards my ongoing project of self-delusion and self-justification, which project must necessarily end some day.

I need the mercies of God and the forgiveness and forbearance of others as much now, maybe even more, than I did when I began this Christian project.


Part One

227777Just on a whim, this morning I entered the phrase “male spirituality” into Google.   The quotation marks are explicit, so that Google would search for the phrase rather than the two words.  What came back was an interesting potpourri of links that I had only the time to skim the very surface of, much like a water-skeeter dances across the surface of a pond without breaking the surface tension.  If she stops (I believe water-skeeters, like bees, are female), she drowns.  There is almost no subject in the contemporary universe of discourse where there is as much danger of drowning is as in discussing sex, gender, and the relationship between the sexes.  So I’m going to try to keep things as light as possible, to avoid breaking surface tension, to avoid drowning.  For this reason, I start with a question, and it is not rhetorical.  I am open to wherever the investigation leads.

About a year ago, someone asked me point blank in an email if I believed that men and women were equal.   Because I didn’t really want to engage with this person and because the probability of mutual respect and civil discourse was minimal, I responded ‘Of course.  What’s your point? ‘  It was cowardly on my part, I guess, because I don’t even believe men and men or women and women are equal, or that the same man or woman is equal diachronically.  It got me thinking about our concept of equality.  What does it mean for a man to be equal to a woman?  What does it mean for a man to be equal to another man?  It obviously isn’t the same as identity, or being the same, which is the schoolyard equivalent.   Sameness is more of a function of manufactured things, things made by machine, on purpose, to be as identical as possible.  Variety, diversity is more of a function of nature.   But we live in a time where manufactured equality is crucial.  Among other things, it makes it much easier and much less expensive to repair our cars, build a house, or track a household’s consumption of peanut butter.  Also, we grow from the playground into the courtroom, but we carry our playground concepts with us when we go, and they grow along with us.

Equality, then, has to be something of an abstraction.  We have to consciously disregard differences if we are going to treat two things as equal.  I am a Trinitarian Christian, and therefore I can be neither a holist nor a reductionist.  Neither the similarities nor the differences between men and women are absolute.  The prevailing sentiment is that the differences between men and women should be minimized, that they are culturally defined, and these differences should never enter into consideration when a man or a woman is considering a course of action.  Biology will have her tribute, though.  Barring a technology that I can only imagine as infernal, men will never give birth, and a trained female mixed martial arts fighter would be suicidal to enter the Thunderdome against her male counterpart.   These are differences of the body, of the human being considered as a physical object with all of its quiddity and measurability.  A toaster and a grandmother dropped from Galileo’s tower will both strike the pavement simultaneously, but no one on this side of madness would consider them equal because of that.

But what happens when we leave the body, as we suppose, behind?  What happens when we move into the realm of the spirit, of that indefinable something that differentiates the grandmother from the toaster, indeed, even from a birch tree, sea snail, or a Shetland pony ?  Surely we leave the distinctions of the body behind.  Now, I am not a trained theologian, but I can follow theologians when they talk, and that is a useful skill.   What I want to do is examine evidence both for and against the idea of gender-specific spirituality and leave aside the urgency of coming to a conclusion.  Especially, I don’t want to be railroaded towards a conclusion.  I may as well mention the Manosphere, especially its Christian “branch”, whose meticulously ground and deeply resentful axes will find plenty of timber upon which to assay purchase.

soefiI lean by temperament and upbringing to believe that men and women will respond to God differently.  I am not alone in thinking so.  Very soon after becoming a conscious disciple of Christ I was assailed by a group of married Christian women who wanted me to ‘evangelize’ their husbands.  It was thought that, being a man, it would be easier for me to encourage them to participate in churchly activities.  I was a dismal failure at this.  I am a transplanted Yankee.   Their husbands were Southern good ol’ boys.   Church was, for them, something that it was fitting for women and children to be involved in, and Yankees, who don’t much care for NASCAR and whose football loyalties were tied to Big Ten teams with highly suspect ground games.  “Men are too proud for church.  Their masculine pride won’t allow them to accept any help, even from the Lord”, one wife complained to me in the presence of our pastor.  This pastor  had been on the ground at Guadalcanal.   I don’t think anybody could accuse him of a lack of masculinity.  Yet the fact remained, men were scarce in our church.   They were scarce in the Pentecostal Church, in the Baptist Church, in the Methodist Church.  They were less scarce in the PCA Presbyterian church, but they tended to be bookish and intellectual.  If they were aggressive, it was usually with a lawyerly kind of aggression.

The Orthodox church doesn’t have this problem.  If anything, it has too many men.  It is said that Orthodoxy attracts and retains men because it is “challenging”.    The rules are more stringent in Orthodoxy than they are in other precincts of Christendom.  The fasting rules are strict.  The Orthodox faithful are vegan some 40% of the year, and often at inconvenient times.  Services are long and you are expected to stand for most them.  Prayers are interminable, and no quarter is given to the flesh.  It remains that many people believe that Orthodoxy has a “heroic ethos” that “attracts men”.  The less charitable accuse us of being the last bastion of the He-Man Woman Haters Club that used to be coterminous with Christendom and has been reduced in these enlightened times to a diminishing circle of Slavic waggons, and THAT is what attracts men, and you are welcome to them.

A thousand words in, and I haven’t even quoted a Bible verse.  I’ll do that next time.  Actually I think the venerable Auld Booke is more egalitarian than I am, but that for next time.


Screen Shot 2014-02-24 at 11.37.41 AMTolkien proposed to the love of his life, Edith Bratt, as soon as he was legally able to do so; at midnight on his 21st birthday.   They married three years later and remained married until her death in 1971.  They had four children.  Looking for references to sex in Tolkien’s Legendarium is a tedious task for those accustomed to  modern salaciousness.  The Elves and Men in his narratives are monogamous and well-behaved, seeking glory on the battlefield rather than in the boudoir.  

CS Lewis was a celibate academic until late in life.  My suspicion is that “Jack” Lewis had something of a thing for the ‘Bad Girl’.  It surfaces from time to time in his fiction (most transparently in The Magician’s Nephew), and I certainly think Joy Davidson scratched that itch admirably.

Owen Barfield married the beautiful and gracious Maud Douie.  They had two children of their own and fostered a third.  His devotion to Rudolf Steiner’s Anthroposophy was a thorn in her side throughout their lives together.  Barfield is interesting in that he contemplates sex in his philosophical works at a time when the Sexual Revolution of the 60s and the 70s was just beginning to gather momentum, and he already had the advantage of a long memory and could discern it in seminis in the works of Swinburne and Lawrence.

Charles Williams, among the Inklings, is the most interested in developing a theology of sex, erotic love, and marriage.  According to many, he is not a pristine fountain from which to draw water;  his own marriage was troubled, he had dalliances with younger women who were drawn to his circle, and he held some heterodox opinions about the role of sex in the Early Church.

Nevertheless, Williams remains almost alone among Christian thinkers in investigating erotic desire from a theological perspective.  This essay of his I  lifted from a copyrighted sources which I believe is either out of print or so obscurely marketed as to amount to the same thing.  I reproduce it here for the benefit of Williams fans and other people who may find it useful.  It pulls together several strands in his thinking; the hermetical or occult, the Poetical, and the Christian.  It is a remarkable essay and a true tour-de-force.

THE INDEX OF THE BODY

From the ‘Dublin Review,’ July 1942

IN the Prelude (book viii, 11.279-81) Wordsworth wrote:

the human form

To me became an index of delight, 

Of grace and honour, power and worthiness.

The most important word there is index. There are moments in all poetry when the reader has to ask himself whether a word used by the poet is accurate not only for the poet’s universe but for the reader’s own. It is a secondary decision, since the first must be only of the poetic value, but it is sometimes important. That is so here; the word index, pressed to its literal meaning, is a word which demands attention, and afterwards assent or dissent.

It is true that Wordsworth himself did not develop the idea; he is speaking generally, and in other passages his genius suggests that the index is to a volume written in a strange language. This is no weakness in Wordsworth; it was, on one side, his particular business.  Thus the image of the Leech-Gatherer in Resolution and Independence is drawn at least as inhuman as human; so is the Soldier in Book IV of the Prelude who is the cause of such terror, and the other wanderers; the woman with the pitcher, and even Lucy Gray, are of the same kind. They are on the borders of two worlds, which almost pass and repass into each other. Wordsworth, of all the Romantics, came nearest to defining and mapping that border-land.

There are, of course, also his more exclusively human figures- Michael, for instance, in the poem of that name. Here the human form suggests to him the grandeur of the moral virtues; it is the suffering and labouring spirit of man which he sees. That may have been what he had chiefly in mind in the passage I have quoted: man as ‘a solitary object and sublime’, but man also ‘with the most common; husband, father’, who

suffered with the rest

From vice and folly, wretchedness and fear.

But the passage is capable of another reading, and one which proposes to us a real, if less usual, sequence. It is that reading which I wish now to discuss, and the word index is the beginning. The question proposed is whether we shall take that word seriously as a statement of the relation of the human form to.’grace and honour, power and worthiness’. The human form meant, to Wordsworth, the shape of the shepherd seen among the hills. There it was high and distant.  It was a whole being significant of a greater whole-which is, in some sense, the definition of objects seen romantically. But the lines might be applied to the same shape, seen near at hand and analytically. They might refer to the body itself; it is that which can be considered as an index.

What then would be meant by the word? Nothing but itself. An index is a list of various subjects, with reference to those places where, in the text of the volume, they are treated at greater length.  But, at least, the words naming the subjects are the same; and a really good index will give some idea of the particular kind of treatment offered on the separate pages. Some such idea, Wordsworth’s lines suggest, the body and even the members of the body may give of the delight, grace, honour, power, and worthiness of man’s structure. The structure of the body is an index to the structure of a greater whole.

I am anxious not to use words which seem too much to separate the physical structure from the whole. The fact of death, and the ensuing separation of ‘body’ and ‘soul’, lead us to consider them too much as separate identities conjoined. But I hope it is not unorthodox to say that body and soul are one identity, and that all our inevitable but unfortunate verbal distinctions are therefore something less than true. Death has been regarded by the Christian Church as an outrage-a necessary outrage, perhaps, but still an outrage. It has been held to be an improper and grotesque schism in a single identity-to which submission, but not consent, is to be offered; a thing, like sin, that ought not to be and yet is. The distress of our Lord in His Passion may perhaps not improperly be supposed to be due to His contemplation of this all but inconceivable schism in His own sacred and single identity. If our manhoods were from the first meant indivisibly, how much more His!

It is one of the intellectual results of the Fall that our language has always to speak in terms of the Fall; and that we cannot help our language does not make it any more true. The epigrams of saints, doctors, and poets, are the nearest we can go to the recovery of that ancient validity, our unfallen speech. To treat the body as an index is to assume that, as in an index the verbal element-the word given-is the same as in the whole text, so in the physical structure of the greater index the element-the quality given-is the same as in the whole structure. Another poet, Patmore, put the thing in a similar light when he wrote that

from the graced decorum of the hair,

Ev’n to the tingling sweet

Soles of the simple earth-confiding feet

And from the inmost heart

Outwards unto the thin

Silk curtains of the skin,

Every least part

Astonish’d hears

 

‘The spheres’ there are likely to mean, first, the outer heavens. This idea is practically that of the microcosm and the macrocosm: the idea that a man is a small replica of the universe. Man was ‘the workshop of all things’, ‘a little world’, mundus minor exemplum majoris mundi ordine, filius totius mundi. It is a very ancient idea; it was held before Christianity and has been held during Christianity; it was common to Christians, Jews, and Mohammedans; and, for all I know, the scientific hypothesis of evolution bears a relation to the union of the two. Into that, however, I am not learned enough to go. The idea went through many changes, but its general principle remained constant: that man was the rational epitome of the universe. It led, of course, to many absurdities, and (if you choose like any other idea) to some evils. Some writers catalogued painstakingly the more obvious fantasies: hair was the grass or the forests; bones were mountains; the sun was the eyes, and so on. Astrology, if not based on it, at least found the idea convenient; however we may reject that ancient study, it had at least this philosophic principle mixed up with it-that each man, being unique, was a unique image of the universe, that the spatially Dante_and_beatricegreater affected the spatially lesser, and the calculable influences of the stars were only calculable because each man represented and reproduced the whole. Astrology then was a high and learned science; it was forbidden for good reasons, but it was not fatalistic. It did not say ‘this will certainly happen’; it said: ‘Given these stellar and individual relations, this result is likely.’ But the will of God and the wills of men were allowed much freedom to interfere with the result.  Sapiens dominabitur astris. The paragraphs in our papers today bear as much resemblance to the science as texts lifted up on boards outside churches do to the whole dogmas of the Church. The paragraphs are, I allow, more likely to harm; the texts, on the whole, are innocuous.

Beside, or rather along with, this study went the patterns of other occult schools. The word ‘occult’ has come into general use, and is convenient, if no moral sense is given it simply as itself. It deals with hidden things, and their investigation. But in this case we are concerned not so much with the pretended operations of those occult schools as with a certain imagination of relation in the universe, and that only to pass beyond it. The signs of the Zodiac were, according to some students, related to the parts of the physical body. The particular attributions varied, and all were in many respects arbitrary. But some of them were extremely suggestive; they may be allowed at least a kind of authentic poetic vision. Thus, in one pattern, the house of the Water-carrier was referred to the eyes; the house of the Twins to the arms and hands; the house of the Scorpion to the privy parts and the sexual organs; and the house of the Balances to the buttocks.

It will be clear that these four attributions at least had a great significance. It will be clear also that in such a poetic (so to call it) imagination, we are dealing with a kind of macrocosmic-rnicrocosmic union of a more serious and more profitable kind than the mere exposition by a debased astrology of chances in a man’s personal life.  It may be invention, but if so, it is great invention; the houses of the Zodiac, with their special influences ruling in special divisions of the spatial universe, may be but the fables of astronomy; it must be admitted that few certain facts support them. But they are not unworthy fables. They direct attention to the principles at work both in the spatial heavens and in the structure of man’s body. Aquarius is for water, clarity, vision; Gemini are for a plural motion, activity, and achievement; Libra is for that true strength of balance on which the structure of man depends.

With this suggestion, we are on the point of deserting the spatial heavens for something else. The like regions of the spheres, of which Patmore spoke, here begin to be transferred to the spiritual heavens. ‘As above, so below’ ran the old maxim, but even that dichotomy is doubtful. The houses of the Zodiac, in this, do but confuse the issue, except in so far as they, like the whole universe, exhibit the mystery by which spirit becomes flesh, without losing spirit. Perhaps the best verbal example is in the common use of the word ‘heart’. Even in our common speech the word is ambiguous. To call Hitler heartless means that he seems to be without the common principle of compassion. It is said that Tertullian (but I have not found the reference) said that ‘the supreme principle of intelligence and vitality’, ‘the sovereign faculty’ of man, resided ‘where the Egyptians taught- Namque bomini sanguis circumcordialis est sensus, the sense of man is in the blood around the heart’. At least the pulsating organ presents, for man, his proper physical rhythm in the whole mundus minor exemplum majoris mundi ordine. As our meaning – physical life or compassionate life – so the word heart. Compassion is the union of man with his fellows, as is the blood. The permitted devotion to the Sacred Heart is to the source of both. The physical heart is, in this sense, an ‘index’ to both. Gerard Hopkins wrote, of the Blessed Virgin:

 

If I have understood

She holds high motherhood

Towards all our ghostly good

And plays in grace her part

About man’s beating heart,

Laying, like air’s fine flood,

The death dance in his blood;

Yet no part but what will

Be Christ our Saviour still.

The visionary forms of the occult schools are but dreams of the Divine Body. All these brief allusions show that there have been some traditions of significance-poetic, occult, religious. Christians, however, may be permitted to press the significance more closely; they may be allowed to ask whether the body is not indeed a living epigram of virtue. There have been doctors who held that Christ would not have become incarnate if man had not sinned; there have been doctors who held that He would. Either way, it is clear that the Sacred Body was itself virtue. The same qualities that made His adorable soul made boorstinHis adorable flesh. If the devotion to the Sacred Heart does not, in itself, imply something of the sort, I do not know what it does imply. The virtues are both spiritual and physical – or rather they are expressed in those two categories. This is recognized in what are regarded as the more ‘noble’ members in the body-the heart, the eyes. But it is not so often recognized as a truth underlying all the members-the stomach, the buttocks. That is partly because we have too long equated the body as such with the ‘flesh’ of St. Paul. But ‘flesh’ is no more that than (as Mgr. Knox pointed out recently in the Tablet) it is ‘sex’. The body was holily created, is holily redeemed, and is to be holily raised from the dead. It is, in fact, for all our difficulties with it, less fallen, merely in itself, than the soul in which the quality of the will is held to reside; for it was a sin of the will which degraded us. ‘The evidence of things not seen’ is in the body seen as this epigram; nay, in some sense, even ‘the substance of things hoped for’, for what part it has in that substance remains to it unspoiled.

It is in this sense then that the body is indeed an ‘index’ to delight, power, and the rest. ‘Who conceives’, wrote Prior,

‘Who conceives, what bards devise,

That heaven is placed in Celia’s eyes?’

 

Well, no; not so simply as that. But Celia’s eyes are a part of the body which (said Patmore, who was orthodox enough)

Astonish’d hears

And sweet replies to some like region of the spheres.

And those spheres are not merely the old spatial macro cosmic heavens, but the deep heaven of our inner being. The discernment of pure goodwill, of (let it be said for a moment) pure love in Celia’s eyes, at some high moment of radiant interchange or indeed at any other moment, is no less part of the heavenly vision (so tiny and remote as it may be) because it is a physical as well as a spiritual vision. The word ‘sacramental’ has perhaps here served us a little less than well; it has, in popular usage, suggested rather the spiritual using the physical than a common-say, a single-operation.

Eyes then are compacted power; they are an index of vision; they see and refer us to greater seeing. Nor has the stomach a less noble office. It digests food; that is, in its own particular method, it deals with the nourishment offered by the universe. It is a physical formula of that health which destroys certain elements-the bacteria which harmfully approach us. By it we learn to consume; by it therefore to be, in turn, consumed. So even with those poor despised things, the buttocks. There is no seated figure, no image of any seated figure, which does not rely on them for its strength and balance. They are at the bottom of the sober dignity of judges; the grace of a throned woman; the hierarchical session of the Pope himself reposes on them: into even greater images and phrases we need not now go.

It will be thought I labour the obvious; and I will not go through the physical structure suggesting and propounding identities. The point will have been sufficiently made if the sense of that structure being heavenly not by a mere likeness but in its own proper nature is achieved. It is a point not so much of doctrine as of imagination.  That imagination is at once individual and social. The temples of the Holy Ghost are constructed all on one plan: and our duties to our material fellows are duties to structures of beatitude. The relation of the Incarnation to our own mode of generation is blessedly veiled.  But its relation to those other identities of power is not at all doubtful. It is not only physical structures we neglect or damage by our social evils; it is living indexes of life. The Virtues exist in all of them materially, but it is the Virtues which so exist.  Christ, in some sense, derived His flesh from them, for He derived it from His Mother, and she from her ancestors, and they from all mankind.

The Sacred Body is the plan upon which physical human creation was built, for it is the centre of physical human creation. The great dreams of the human form as including the whole universe are in this less than the truth. As His, so ours; the body, in this sense of an index, is also a pattern. We carry about with us an operative synthesis of the Virtues; and it may be held that when we fall in love (for example), we fall in love precisely with the operative synthesis.

Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye;

In every gesture dignity and love;

 

Is much more a definite statement of fact than we had supposed; footsteps are astonishing movements of grace. That we cannot properly direct and control our sensations and emotions is not surprising; butparadiso-761559 the greatness of man is written even in his incapacity, and when he sins he sins because of a vision which, even though clouded, is great and ultimate. As every heresy is a truth pushed disproportionately, so with every sin; at least, with every physical sin.  But, however in those states of ‘falling in love’ the vision of a patterned universe is revealed to us, the revelation vanishes, and we are left to study it slowly, heavily, and painfully. All that the present essay attempts to do is to present a point of view which has behind it, one way and another, a great tradition-a tradition which, for Christians, directs particular attention to the Sacred Body as the Archtype of all bodies. In this sense the Eucharist exposes also its value. The ‘index’ of our bodies, the incarnate qualities of the moral universe, receive the Archtype of all moralities truly incarnated; and not only the pattern in the soul and will but the pattern in the body is renewed. Or, better, in that unity which we, under the influence of our Greek culture, divide into soul and body. ‘Socrates’, Dr. William Ellis writes, ‘invented the concept which permeates every part of modern thinking, the concept of the twofold nature of man, of man as a union of the active, or spiritual, with the inactive, or corporeal; the concept, in short, of the organism as a dead carcass activated  by a living ghost. Even if we repudiate this idea, we are still half-dominated by it, so deeply does it underlie our pattern of culture.’  I am far from suggesting that this is the proper Christian view. But there is, I think, no doubt that it is not far from the popular Christian view. The fuss that has been made about Browning’s line (not that that was Browning’s fault)-‘nor soul helps flesh more now than flesh helps souI’-shows that. It was repeated almost as a new revelation, though indeed the Lady Julian had said almost the same thing centuries before. We have to overcome that lazy habit of the imagination-the outrage of death notwithstanding. We experience, physically, in its proper mode, the Kingdom of God: the imperial structure of the body carries its own high doctrines-of vision, of digestion of mysteries, of balance, of movement, of operation. ‘That soul’, said Dante in the Convivio, ‘which embraces all these powers [the rational, the sensitive, and the vegetative] is the most perfect of all the rest.’ The rational, or self-conscious, power is indeed the noblest, but we must ask from it a complete self-consciousness, and not a self-consciousness in schism.

It was suggested that the stress of this imagination may be an incentive to our social revolution. For if the body of our neighbor is compact of these heavenly qualities, incarnated influences, then we are indeed neglecting the actual Kingdom of God in neglecting it. It is the living type of the Arch-typal. We have not merely to obey a remote moral law in feeding and succouring and sheltering it. It is the ‘index’ of power; tear away the index, and we are left without the power; tear away the index, and we are left without the delight. Let the whole to which that index witnesses be as immense as any volume of truth may be, and still the value of that small substance remains. Every student of a learned work uses the index attentively. A good index can indeed be studied in itself.   To study the body so is to increase our preparation for the whole great text.


A sermon by St. John Maximovitch

The day of the Last Judgement! That day no one knows –only God the Father knows — but its signs are given in the Gospel and in the Apocalypse of the holy Apostle John the Theologian. Revelation speaks of the events at the end of the world and of the Last Judgement primarily in images and in a veiled manner, but the Holy Fathers have explained these images, and there is an authentic Church tradition that speaks clearly concerning the signs of the approach of the end, and concerning the Last Judgement.
Screen Shot 2013-05-16 at 9.25.41 AMBefore the end of life on earth there will be agitation, wars, civil war, hunger, earthquakes… Men will suffer from fear, will die from ex­pectation of calamity. There will be no life, no joy of life, but a tor­mented state of falling away from life. But there will be a falling away not only from life, but from faith also, and when the Son of Man cometh, shall He find faith on the earth?  (St. Luke 18: 8.) Men will become proud, ungrateful, rejecting Divine law. Together with the falling away from life will be also a weakening of moral life. There will be an exhaustion of good and an increase of evil.

Of these times the holy Apostle John the Theologian speaks in his God-inspired work, the Apocalypse. He himself says that he “was in the Spirit” when he wrote it: this means that the Holy Spirit Himself was in him when under the form of various images the fate of the Church and the world was opened to him; and so this is a Divine Revelation.

The Apocalypse represents the fate of the Church in the image of a woman who hides herself in those times in the wilderness: she does not show herself in public life; as today in Russia. In public life the leading role will be played by forces which prepare the possibility for the appearance of Antichrist.

Antichrist will be a man, and not the devil incarnate. “Anti” means “old,” and it also signifies “in place of” or “against.” Antichrist is a man who desires to be in place of Christ, to occupy His place and possess what Christ should possess: he desires to possess the attraction of Christ and authority over the whole world. And Antichrist will receive that authority before his destruction and the destruction of the world.

What is known of this man — Antichrist? His precise ancestry is unknown: his father is completely unknown, and his mother a foul pre­tended virgin. He will be a Jew of the tribe of Dan. He will be very intelligent and endowed with skill in handling people. He will be fas­cinating and kind. The philosopher Vladimir Soloviev worked long at presenting the advent and person of Antichrist. He made careful use of all material on this question, not only Patristic but also Moslem, and he worked out a brilliant picture.

Before the advent of Antichrist there is already being prepared in the world the possibility of his appearance: The mystery of iniquity doth already work (II Thes. 2:7). The forces preparing for his appearance fight above all against the lawful Imperial authority. The holy Apostle Paul says that Antichrist cannot be manifested until what withholdeth be taken away (II Thes. 2: 6-7). St. John Chrysostom explains that the “with­holding one” is the lawful pious authority: such an authority fights with evil. For this reason the “mystery,” already at work in the world, fights with this authority; it desires a lawless authority. When the “mystery” decisively achieves that authority, nothing will any longer hinder the appearance- of Antichrist.

Fascinating, intelligent, kind, he will be merciful — he will act with mercy and goodness; but not for the sake of mercy and goodness, but for the strengthening of his authority. And when he will have strengthened it to the point where the whole world acknowledges him, then he will reveal his face.

For his capital he will choose Jerusalem, because it was here that the Saviour revealed His Divine teaching and His person, and it was here that the entire world was called to the blessedness of goodness and sal­vation. But the world did not acknowledge Christ and crucified Him in Jerusalem; under Antichrist, however, the whole world will acknowledge his authority, and Jerusalem will become the capital of the world.

Having attained the pinnacle of authority, Antichrist will demand of men the acknowledgement that he has attained what no earthly power had ever attained and none can attain, and he will demand worship of himself as a higher being, as a god.

Soloviev well describes the character of his activity as “Supreme Ruler.” He will do what is pleasing to all — on the condition of being recognized as Supreme Authority. He will allow the Church to exist, will permit her Divine services, will promise toAntichrist-1 build magnificent churches — on the condition that all recognize him as “Supreme Being” and worship him. Antichrist will have a personal hatred for Christ; he will sec in Him a rival and look upon Him as a personal enemy. He will live by this hatred and rejoice in men’s apostasy from Christ.

Under Antichrist there will be an immense falling away from the faith. Many bishops will change in faith and in justification will point to the brilliant situation of the Church. The search for compromise will be the characteristic disposition of men. Straightforwardness of confes­sion will disappear. Men will cleverly justify their fall, and gracious evil will support such a general disposition. There will be in men the habit of apostasy from truth, and the sweetness of compromise and sin.

Antichrist will allow men everything, as long as they “fall down and worship him”; and the whole world will submit to him. And then there will appear the two righteous men, who will fearlessly preach the faith and accuse Antichrist. According to Church tradition they are the two Prophets of the Old Testament, Elijah and Enoch, who did not taste of death, but will taste it now for three days; and in three days they must rise. Their death will call forth the great rejoicing of Antichrist and his servants. Their resurrection will plunge them into great confu­sion and terror. And then will come the end of the world.

The Apostle Peter says that the first world was made out of wa­ter — an image of the primordial chaos, and perished by water — in the Flood. And now the world is reserved unto fire. The earth and the works that are therein shall he burned up (II Peter 3:5-7, 10). All the elements will ignite. This present world will perish in a single instant. In an instant all will be changed.

And the Sign of the Son of God will appear: the Sign of the Cross.

The whole world, having willingly submitted to Antichrist, will weep. Everything is finished forever: Antichrist killed; the end of his kingdom of warfare with Christ; the end, and one is held accountable; one must answer to the true God.

“The end of the world” signifies not the annihilation of the world, but its transformation. Everything will be transformed suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye. The dead will rise in new bodies: their own, but renewed, just as the Saviour rose in His own body and on it were traces of wounds from the nails and spear, yet it possessed new faculties, and in this sense it was a new body. It is not clear whether this new body will be such as that with which Adam was made, or whether it will be an entirely new body.

And the Lord will appear in glory on the clouds. Trumpets will sound, and loud, with power! They will sound in the soul and conscience! All will become clear to the human conscience. The Prophet Daniel, speaking of the Last Judgement, relates how the Ancient of days, the Judge, sits on His throne, and before Him is a fiery stream (Daniel 7: 9-10). Fire is a purifying element; it burns sin. Woe to a man if sin has become a part of his nature: then the fire will burn the man himself.

This fire will be kindled within a man: seeing the Cross, some will rejoice, but others will fall into confusion, terror, and despair. Thus will men be divided instantly. The very state of a man’s soul casts him to one side or the other, to right or to left.

The more consciously and persistently a man strives toward God in his life, the greater will be his joy when he hears: “Come unto Me, ye blessed.” And conversely: the same words will call the fire of horror and torture on those who did not desire Him, who fled and fought or blasphemed Him during their lifetime!

The Last Judgement knows of no witnesses or written protocols! Everything is inscribed in the souls of men and these records, these “books,” are opened at the Judgement. Everything becomes clear to all and to oneself.

And some will go to joy, while others — to horror.

When “the books are opened,” it will become clear that the roots of all vices lie in the human soul. Here is a drunkard or a lecher: when the body has died, some may think that sin is dead too. No! There was an inclination to sin in the soul, and that sin was sweet to the soul, and if the soul has not repented of the sin and has not freed itself from it, it will come to the Last Judgement also with the same desire for sin. It will never satisfy that desire and in that soul there will be the suffering of hatred. It will accuse everyone and everything in its tortured condition, it will hate everyone and everything. “There will be gnashing of teeth” of powerless malice and the unquenchable fire of hatred.

A “fiery gehenna” — such is the inner fire. “Here there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth.” Such is the state of hell.


Essa moça sabe desenhar sim senhor.

steampunk_siblingsShe’s Brazilian, and her blog is in Portuguese, but that shouldn’t deter you from a visit.   Google Translate is kind to her site, but the real pleasure is in her drawings.   By turns whimsical, fantastic, and sensual, Cynthia França wields a pencil like Logen Ninefingers can wield a sword, and it cuts just as deeply.  I wasn’t able to determine if Miss França has ever published any of her drawings professionally, or if anyone had ever tapped her to illustrate a book.  There were several drawings on her site that seemed to come from a fictional source; Soccertown kids, all appropriately named,  a set of drawings entitled Les Reines D’Autobus, but I was frustrated by my total ignorance of Brazilian popular culture.

Since reading L. Sprague De Camp’s planetary romances of the Viagens Interplanetárias in my earliest adolescence, Brazil has always seemed like a mythical country in its own right.  I don’t mean to disparage the tremendous challenges faced by the average Brazilian in navigating the real world, but when I visited there, I felt more like I was living inside a legend than I have anywhere else.  There has to be some compensation for living in a country where there is so much poverty and injustice, and oddly, there is.  Nature is exuberant there, beyond anything we know in North America away from the redwood groves on the West Coast.  Taking the bus from Santos on the coast to São Paulo was like dreaming with my eyes open.   Music, better music than you can pay to hear in most venues, wafts out of the windows and down to the street.

Because of this I’m surprised Brazil hasn’t produced more fantasy literature.  Some of the tales of the bandeirantes, with which Brazilian schoolchildren are as familiarrachel_leah as American children used to be with the stories of Paul Bunyan and Pecos Bill, definitely had a mythopoetic flavor to them.  Miss França has a fantastic side to her as well.  In her online portfolio there are drawings of Conan, Dejah Thoris, and Desire of the Endless, as well as numerous sketches from what Miss França refers to as her “pocket mythology”.  I learned that the phrase Portuguese would use for the Endless is os Perpétuos.  From one Gaiman fan to another Gaiman fan, I salute you.

Miss França also has produced an occasional series of sketches of Biblical women.  You should really go see these, because they are not likely to see the light of day between the pages of your Zondervan Purpose Oriented Planner Bible.  Mary and Martha are here, as are Herodias and a slightly older Salomé, three of David’s wives, Jezebel and her daughter Athalia.  Even though Miss França appears to have a soft spot for the bad girls, there are plenty of good girls; Ruth and Orpah are here, as are the three daughters of Job.  My favorite, however, is the sketch of Leah and Rachel, the wives of Jacob.  Miss França takes the liberty of depicting Leah not as strictly plain, but just frank and transparent as opposed to Rachel’s smoldering and mysterious glamour.

Now, I know I have maybe thirty two nanoWarhols of artistic critical influence, but I would dearly love to see Miss França exercise her considerable talents somewhere where she could be more widely appreciated.


I admit I’m in kind of a quandary.

billy_graham_and friends praying

Evangelicals in 1948

The pastor at the the Assemblies of God church my wife attends spent 45 minutes last Sunday pleading with God for a “community wide revival”.  Now, although I was baptized in a church that isn’t known as a hotbed of revival, I spent around thirty years of my life between 1973 and about 1996 in and out of different revival-oriented churches.   Somehow, I had gotten the idea that the church into which I was baptized was not a church to be taken seriously by serious Christians, and in 1973, I considered myself a serious Christian.  You see, I had a serious “come to Jesus” moment.  After several years in the late sixties, early seventies drug-and-rock-and-roll culture, something of a revival broke out among people my age.  It was called The Jesus Movement, and I don’t want to think about the influence it had on American Protestantism because dwelling on that depresses me profoundly.  Suffice it to say that in 1968, Protestantism was a pursuit for grown-ups and for those young people who aspired to that label.  Fast forward forty years and the most important thing in Protestant Christianity is that it be relevant, i.e. amenable to a group of people who, as CS Lewis said of Susan Pevensie, want ” to race on to the silliest time of one’s life as [possible] and then stop there as long as [one] can.”   Boomer fingerprints are all over early 21st century Protestant Christianity, and you can barely see inside for all the smudges.

The church into which I was baptized was a Constantinian church, that is to say, a state church or an ethnic church.  It was old-school.  A Christian was someone who was born into the ethnic group and who had been baptized into its fellowship as an infant.  The Assemblies of God church I found refuge in in 1973 was what I guess you would call a Revival church.  Father Stephen Freeman, on his excellent blog Glory To God For All Things,  does a very good job of explaining the difference.  You become a member of a Revival church by “getting saved” and undergoing baptism as an adult.  It was implied that something was defective if you had only the first level of Christianity.  It was implied that the only thing baptism accomplished for you as an infant was to make you wet.  I remember the Assemblies of God pastor and many of the more eminent layfolk considering people in my native church valid objects of evangelism.   I did too, and it led to some embarrassing incidents where I displayed too much zeal and too little discernment.  There are a lot of very pious people in the Assemblies of God.  I could tell the difference even when I was very young.  A Congregational minister in whose choir I sang because my mother earned a stipend as their choir leader often allowed his Assemblies of God-ordained sister to preach when he was absent. The difference was between night and day.  It took a while, and a lot of growing up, before I could appreciate the serious Christians in my ancestral church.

The “Jesus Revolution” started in earnest in my neck of the woods in the early 70s.  A lot of the ne’er-do-wells I hung around with at the time put down the hash pipes, picked up Bibles and headed for the churches, especially the more progressive, cooler ones that embraced coffee houses with lots of espresso and folk-rock bands as a means of attracting truculent, “hard to reach” young people.   The idea was that we would funnel from the coffee houses into the churches, eventually.  What a surprise to find that the coffee houses digested the churches and now it is very, very difficult to find a church that still acts like the churches of my parents’ generation, what with introits, Kyries, responsive readings, and all of that panoplia.  Indeed, it is hard to find a church that will admit to being a church at all – we are overwhelmed with Worship Centers, Family Life Centers, Gathering Places, Deliverance Ministries, etc, and sometimes you have to dig pretty hard to find out what brand of Christianity is subscribed to.

Now, I did not leave Evangelicalism/Pentecostalism because I was “disillusioned” with Evangelicalism/Pentecostalism.  Evangelicalism fulfilled its purpose in my life.  It introduced me to Jesus Christ, which 20 years as a member in good standing in my ancestral Reformed church did not do.  This bothers me, because it was not that I didn’t have ample opportunity to meen Jesus in the Reformed church.  It was that I wasn’t paying any attention.  When I  finally started paying attention, it was the Pentecostals who benefitted.  It was the miracle stories, really, I guess.  The Pentecostal God was the kind of God I assumed from my glancing knowledge of the Scriptures.  But once Evangelicalism introduces you to Jesus, there isn’t a whole lot further it can take you.   It’s a design flaw, really.  Everything about Evangelicalism is designed to get you to Jesus as quickly and as painlessly as possible.  Whether you stay with Him is pretty much entirely up to you.

brick-lane-hipsters3-560x448

Evangelicals in 2013

I left Evangelicalism in its Pentecostal variety because I encountered the Orthodox Church, and I was convinced of her claim to be the apostolic Church founded by Jesus Christ on the foundation of the Holy Apostles.  That meant that the original design was much more like my ancestral Reformed church than it was like any of the Revivalist churches I spent time in afterwards.  People are born into it and find their spiritual subsistence there.  Pastors of revivalist churches  often scratch their heads when I explain this to them, because nobody in the Orthodox Church is “born again” according to their lights.  Except the converts from Evangelicalism, who by those rights should be the ‘best’ Christians in the Orthodox Church, but who usually aren’t.

But once again, I wonder what Orthodox spiritual renewal looks like.  I know the Orthodox Church went through some very decadent times, when the faith of the faithful was reduced to a handful of superstitions and family customs.  Apart from this historical understanding, the stories of St. Cosmas of Aitolos and St. Nektarios of Corinth make little sense at all.  I mentioned to my parish priest that the career of St. Cosmas of Aitolos reminded me a great deal of that of John Wesley, his contemporary.  Now the Orthodox Church does not  do “revivals” or “renewals”, like you see so often in the history of Western Christendom, but SS Cosmas and Nektarios were instrumental in “reOrthodoxing the Orthodox”; like Wesley, they founded churches, schools, and orphanges, rekindled parish life.  Father replied, “Wesley, sadly, provoked a schism.  St. Cosmas created unity.”  That started me thinking.  In every major Protestant awakening, from the first flutterings of Pietism and Puritanism in the 17th century to the Emergent  movement in the 21st,  the price of increased spirituality always came to be paid in the coin of schism,  with one group of Christians labeling their predecessors as lacking in zeal and not really worthy of the term.  Maybe monasticism takes the place of this in the Catholic and Orthodox Church.

I know what my wife’s pastor is saying.  The darkness of this age is getting so thick it is nearly palpable.  At a time when we need to love each other or perish, we cannot abide the sight of one another.  Jesus has gone from being the Savior of penitents and the Lord of the Church to a nosegay for our culture and an issuer of seals of approval for our political positions, left or right.

But I don’t want another revival.  Please, Lord, don’t send another revival. We won’t survive another revival.

Send the Holy Spirit, but Lord, to be honest, I haven’t been Orthodox long enough to know what this would mean for my wife’s pastor’s community, for my county, for my city,  right now.


“I was thinking of very old times, when the Romans first came here, nineteen hundred years ago — the other day. . . . Light came out of this river since — you say the Knights?  Yes; but it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds.  We live in the flicker — may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling!    But darkness was here yesterday.
 
 
Imagine the feelings of a commander of a fine — what d’ye call ’em? — trireme in the Mediterranean, ordered suddenly to the north…  Imagine him here — the very end of the world, a sea the colour of lead, a sky the colour of smoke, a kind of ship about as rigid as a concertina — and going up this river with stores, or orders, or what you like.   Sand-banks, marshes, forests, savages, — precious little to eat fit for a civilized man, nothing but Thames water to drink.  
 
No Falernian wine here, no going ashore. Here and there a military camp lost in a wilderness, like a needle in a bundle of hay — cold, fog, tempests, disease, exile, and death — death skulking in the air, in the water, in the bush. They must have been dying like flies here. Oh, yes — he did it. Did it very well, too, no doubt, and without thinking much about it either, except afterwards to brag of what he had gone through in his time, perhaps.
 
They were men enough to face the darkness. And perhaps he was cheered by keeping his eye on a chance of promotion to the fleet at Ravenna by and by, if he had good friends in Rome and survived the awful climate.
 
Or think of a decent young citizen in a toga — perhaps too much dice, you know — coming out here in the train of some prefect, or tax-gatherer, or trader even, to mend his fortunes. Land in a swamp, march through the woods, and in some inland post feel the savagery, the utter savagery, had closed round him — all that mysterious life of the wilderness that stirs in the forest, in the jungles, in the hearts of wild men. There’s no initiation either into such mysteries. He has to live in the midst of the incomprehensible, which is also detestable. And it has a fascination, too, that goes to work upon him. The fascination of the abomination — you know, imagine the growing regrets, the longing to escape, the powerless disgust, the surrender, the hate.”

Joseph Conrad – Heart Of Darkness

davidofwales01It was as dark as the Dark Ages got, then, in Britain.  Classical civilization, what was left of it, hugged the shores of the Mediterranean during the Indian Summer of Theodoric’s Ostrogothic kingdom.  Like the blood in the arteries of a severely wounded accident victim,  it refused to circulate to the extremities.  It was at this time, a century or so after the departure of the legions and a century yet before the arrival of the Roman mission, that a holy man was born.  He had the sad misfortune to be born in a very hardscrabble time, in a very hardscrabble place.  People didn’t have much time or inclination to record their doings, indeed, it would be hard to imagine that the people who lived at this time would have thought their struggle for survival worthy of recording.

So what survived were stories, stories vivid enough to be remembered.  Stories such as the one about the wandering Briton princeling who was travelling far from home when he came upon a maiden bathing in a stream and was overcome by lust.  He forced himself on her, and she conceived.  It was a brutal age, and it appears the leaven of the Gospel  had little power to soften men’s passions among these jettisoned folk, and none among the pagan Saxons already coursing far inland.  She carried the child for nine months, refusing on one occasion to allow a local ruler to terminate her pregnancy.  She gave birth in a women’s monastery, and her child was raised there.

This child, grown to be a man, began to preach the gospel in his corner of the world.  The reputation of his sanctity spread, and he began to become known as Sant, or simply, the saint.  It is unusual that the saint would come to be called the Illuminator of Wales, as his country was not known by that name at that time.  Most likely, his country was still known by her Roman name: Britannia, and her people spoke Latin after their fashion as well as their native British, now Welsh.  Like a formerly prosperous family fallen on hard times, they must have cherished these small remnants of Roman civilization, and maybe, just maybe, Christianity was one of these remnants.  It is by no means certain that the saint’s countrymen were all Christian.  It had been the legal religion of the Empire for only a scant 20 years before the legions departed, and there were many pagans for the saint to convert.

The full flower of his manhood is punctuated with many stories.  The saint was preaching to a crowd of people, and the crowd grew to such a proportion that those on the fringes were unable to hear his preaching.  He prayed, and the earth rose under his feet,  forming a hillock so that all could hear his words.   Some farmers nearby were complaining that there wasn’t enough water for their crops, so he prayed, pushed his staff into the ground, and a fountain of water sprayed up to provide the farmers what they needed.   The monks at this time must have been quite lax, although it is remarkable that there were any monks at all.   Brittania was the other side of the world from Christian monasticism’s center of gravity in Egypt and Palestine, but monks there were, and many followed the saint.   He founded many monasteries and guided his monks with a rigorous discipline.   They were forbidden the use of draught animals, and had to pull their plows themselves.  In addition, they were enjoined to forswear beer and wine, and drink only water, a real test of faith in a day before chlorine tablets.

Not that Brittania was hermetically sealed from the rest of the Christian world.  Perhaps because Pelagius himself was a Briton, the saint found it necessary to refute him in several local councils.  It is a shame that his arguments against Pelagius have not survived, and Augustine’s did.  It would have been informative to compare the two.  Towards the end of his life, the saint found it necessary to travel to the center of the remaining Empire, to Palestine, and receive the bishopric of his country from the Patriarch of Jerusalem.  Whether the saint took the land road or the sea road, it must have been a long and arduous journey, and the good patriarch must have felt like the Archbishop of Canterbury appointing the rector of the parish on St. Helena.  The saint returned to his native Brittania, founded one last monastery in the extreme west of his land, and died there on this day, March 1, supposedly in 589.  His last words to his disciples were

Be steadfast, brothers, and do the little things.

The saint’s country changed dramatically after his death.  The pagan Saxon marauders pushed the Britons father and farther north and west until they were bottled up onto the extremities of the island, butwales they never found the Dark Ages to be all that dark.   They had another name for it: Oes y Seintiau – The Age Of Saints.  They named their country Cymru, the land of the people, and their tongue became Cymraeg.  The ungracious Saxons named them the Wealas, the foreigners, but admitted that they were great warriors and greater poets and singers.  Little by little, first the Saxons and later the Normans dragged this people of the retreat into the even longer and more tragic general retreat of the West into feudal Catholicism, Calvinism, secularism, and unbelief

This is Dewi Sant, Saint David, patron of Wales in the undivided Church.  Interestingly, Orthodox, Catholic, and Anglican all honor him, and his last church is now a great cathedral.  The Welsh still love him, and his day is their national day.

He is also my patron, and I would like to share a story of a miracle I believe was wrought by his intercession.  When my family and I moved to Atlanta  late in 2007, the area been suffering a severe drought for many years.  The drought was so absolute that people were not allowed to wash their cars or water their lawns.  I hadn’t been Orthodox longer than a few months, but I noticed that St. David had worked many miracles that were related to water.  I besought his intercession on our behalf and rested the matter with him.  On his day, March 1, 2008, Atlanta experienced a freakish snowfall of several inches that effectively broke the drought.  The commentator on the radio noted that this was the best way to drop so much precipitation on a drought-hardened ground.  Five years later, even though water levels have yet to return to normal, at least the lawns are being watered and the cars washed.

Dewi Sant, gweddia ni

Saint David of Wales, pray for us

 

I responded to the late Michael Spencer, of Internet Monk fame, when he posted a couple of years ago about the lack of sacramentality in Evangelical worship:

But evangelicals are in sacramental chaos, and the results are quite obvious. Evangelicals are “re-sacramentalizing” in an uncritical and unbiblical way. The Planetshakers article was good evidence, but you can see and hear it everywhere. What are our evangelical sacraments? Where will evangelicals defend the idea that “God is dependably at work?”
We have sacramentalized technology.
We have sacramentalized the pastor and other leaders.
We have sacramentalized music. (i.e. the songs themselves and the experience of singing.)
We have sacramentalized leaders of musical worship.
We have sacramentalized events. (God is here!)
We have sacramentalized the various forms of the altar call.
We have sacramentalized the creation of an emotional reaction.
We’ve done all of this, amazingly, while de-emphasizing and theologically gutting baptism. We’ve done this while reducing the Lord’s Supper to a relatively meaningless, optional recollection. We’ve done this while removing any aspects of sacramentalism from our worship and even our architecture. (Public reading of scripture, hymns, tables/altars, baptisteries, pulpits.) And we’ve given over to whomever wants to speak up the power to say what God is saying, what God is doing, what God is using, what God thinks of whatever we’re doing, what the Spirit is up to and so on.
 

My response:

I hadn’t been Orthodox a year when all of a sudden it hit me why Evangelicals, my former self included, believed that Catholics and Orthodox **worshipped saints**, statues, icons and Mary. We treat them the way Evangelicals treat God. That is to say, we do religious acts in their presence, directed to them. No wonder. Since there is no [official] sacrifice in Evangelical worship, there is just “dylia” offered to God, religious acts done in His presence, directed to Him.

Any Cathodox would be aghast, and rightly so, at offering the Eucharist to anyone except the most Holy Trinity. Without the Eucharist properly understood… You have kind of a Jesusism, an ideology extracted from a text, subject to all of the vicissitudes and mutations of any ideology.


Apparently, that is the Paschal Greeting in Tolkien’s constructed Elvish language Quenya. It was fun tracking down the exact translation of this phrase. Apparently, it comes from Tolkien himself, who also translated several Christian prayers into Quenya, such as The Lord’s Prayer and the Hail Mary.

Naturally, this leads to some speculation as to what significance the Incarnation, Passion, and Resurrection of Eru Ilúvatar has for the Elves. There is precious little to go by either in The Lord of the Rings or The Silmarillon. Human piety or apostasy is measured in these works by the human group’s faithfulness to the alliance with the Eldar, and by extension, to the Valar.  Yet there is a line drawn between the Elves, who are bound to this world and cannot transpass it, and Men, whose fate lies “beyond the circle of the world, and what it is, even Mandos cannot tell.”

Nevertheless, Tolkien constructed his mythology to be, at the least, compatible with the worship of the Blessed Trinity.  I view the Valar as Elementals, roughly corresponding to the των στοιχειων του κοσμου [“the elements of this world”], mentioned so coyly in St. Paul’s Letter to the Colossians (2:20).  Alas, the Elves never finish their apprenticeship.  The virtual immortality in this world which is so coveted by the fallen Numenoreans, turns out to be a perpetual submission to the Valar.    Men would eventually come, because of their participation in the Divine nature, to overshadow their titular overlords.  So, the First would be Last, and the Last, First.

The number and depth of human-Elvish relationships show that the Elves have at least a capacity to enter into the communio sanctorum, except that they would be participating from the streets of Tirion and Alqualondë, rejoicing in the good fortune of their younger brethren and awaiting their own eventual redemption.  I am certain that the learned among them, on this bright Feast of Feasts, would greet each other with the Paschal greeting:

Ortanne Laivino! Anwa ortanne Laivino! 

laivë noun “ointment” , hence Laivino, “the Anointed, the Christ”

orta vb. “rise”, also transitive “raise, lift up”, pa.t. ortanë (Nam, RGEO:67, ORO; misreading “ortani” in Letters:426). According to PE17:63-64, this pa.t. form ortanë is only transitive (*”raised”), whereas the intransitive pa.t. (*”rose”) is orontë

anwa adj. “real, actual, true” 

From an online Quenya dictionary


10.  The Ten Commandments – Charlton Heston, Yul Brenner

9. The Passion Of The ChristJames Caviezel

8. Therese  – Lindsay Yount

7. Black Robe – Lothaire Bluteau, Aden Young

6. A Man Called Peter – Richard Todd, Jean Peters

5.  The Apostle – Robert Duvall, Farrah Fawcett

4. Ostrov (The Island) – Petr Mamonov,

3. The Mission – Robert De Niro, Jeremy Irons

2. The Story Of Ruth – Stuart Whitman, Elana Eden

1. Andrey Rublyev – dir. Andrey Tarkovsky, Anatoli Solonitsyn

Honorable Mention: Brother Sun, Sister Moon,  Godspell,  The End Of The Spear,  Amazing Grace,  Bells Of St. Marys, The Gospel According To St. Matthew, Bella, lots of Tyler Perry’s movies are actually pretty good, The Big Lebowski (really, dude)

Ten completely unwatchable Christian Movies, in no particular order; Left Behind, The Omega Code,  Joshua, Facing The Giants,  One Night With The King,  Knowing,  Faith Like Potatoes,  Dogma (it just rubbed me the wrong way), Letters To God, The Last Sin Eater

The absolute abyss: Fireproof – After I saw this movie, I was tempted to convert to Buddhism.

CURRENTLY READING

The Dragonbone Chair by Tad Williams