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Friday, March 30, 2007
Explanation of Holy Week
Sunday, March 18, 2007
In case of a loss of cabin pressure...
In this sign, conquer
These words, inscribed in the sky with the Chi Rho, led St. Constantine to victory, and set the stage for the legalization of Christianity within the Roman Empire.
The sign of the cross has always played a significant role within the life of Christians from the earliest times. Nathan Bierma, from Calvin College, recently published an article in Christianity Today, surveying the history of the use of the sign of the cross, by virtue of a review of a couple of books - one by a Roman Catholic, and the other by an Orthodox author . Providentially, this article was published just a couple of weeks before the Sunday of the Veneration of the Holy Cross in the Orthodox Church (one wonders if the publishers were aware of this).
At the end of the article, Bierma makes a case for the adoption of the use of the sign of the cross by Protestants (with the acknowledgement that Liturgical Protestants, like Anglicans and Lutherans, have continued this practice from before the Reformation). This is all quite interesting. We've seen, over the last couple of decades, a growing interest in Patristics, a growing interest in Icons, and now an interest in Mary as well as an interest in the Sign of the Cross. What's most interesting is that this all feels a bit like my own journey into Orthodoxy, and somewhat like the story of others. The sequence may not be spot on, but its not far wrong. For me it started with being introduced to Patristics and Iconography by a wonderful Anglican Priest, who unfortunately has not yet converted. Then, as I became more involved in the AngloCatholic side of things, I adopted more practices of a Catholic/Orthodox nature. The sign of the cross, devotion to the Theotokos, fasting, etc. Ultimately, when, as one of my fave bloggers described it, the Episcopal Church forced me to think with my heart more, I became Orthodox. I can but pray that this generalized movement among some in the Protestant community reflects an overall movement back to the historic Church. Fulfill now the petitions of Your servants for our benefit, giving us the knowledge of Your truth in this world, and granting us eternal life in the world to come (from the Liturgy of St. Basil ).
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Some Comparative Christianity
Views on the Theotokos
Recently, Timothy George published a piece over at "First Things" which discusses the need for Evangelicals to recover a "biblical appreciation" of the Virgin Mary. This is not the first time, as he notes, that he has done so (he is a bit erroneous in stating that he wrote the previous article in 2004, it was actually 2003 ). This article provides a motivation to compare Catholic and Orthodox views on Mary (more so than the Protestant view), but it also provides an interesting opportunity to look at what may be an interesting change in the use of typology, and the Fathers, within Evangelical circles.
It is quite heartening to see an increasing interest within Evangelical circles in a proper view of Mary. Over the past decade or so, there had developed an interest in looking to the Church Fathers, as well, and this has largely been positive. Unfortunately, there has largely been a tendency to use the Fathers the wrong way - reading them through the lens of Scripture - as opposed to reading Scripture through the lens of the Fathers. What I mean by this is that the approach seems to be - interpret the Scripture, then look for passages in the Fathers that agree with this interpretation. Where there is agreement, fine, where there isn't, then ignore that particular Father's teaching (on the point in question). This tendency has led to yet another impasse in conversations between some groups of Protestants and (mostly) Catholics. As always, it is dangerous to generalize about what is a "Protestant" belief, as Protestantism is not monolithic. If the increasing interest in Mariology results in something similar, then there will be limited benefit. However, every step towards Orthodoxy is a good step, so I should be pleased.
Now that I've pointed out what I feel to be errors in the handling of the Church Fathers, I see an intriguing change reflected in this article. Ever since the time of the Reformation, there has been a hesitance to take a typological approach to Scripture similar to what is seen in the Fathers. There is an interesting book on early Anglican Divines that looks at the variety of takes on Patristic Typology. In general, as I recall, it was not looked upon favorably. The tendency was to deal with the "plain" meaning of Scripture and not engage in what was considered a more fanciful interpretive technique that leads, as would be argued, to error. This reflects the doctrine of Sola Scriptura. Not in the sense that the doctrine says "read only the Scripture, and read it this way," but rather it is an outgrowth of the doctrine. Follow me, for a moment. If all doctrine is to be derived from Scripture, then this requires that Scripture be perspicuous. This has become a formal doctrine, I believe, in some Protestant circles, and is at least an informal doctrine in most. If Scripture is not perfectly clear, then you are in a situation where you need something else to interpret Scripture. Although many Protestant denominations accept that there are those specifically called to be teachers, there is, even then, a hesitancy to declare Scripture to be unclear. If Scripture is perfectly clear - at least doctrinally - then you would become suspicious of any efforts to see hidden meanings in Scripture, and particularly if these meanings start pointing to matters of doctrine. This is what I suspect drove the move away from looking at Scripture the way the Fathers did.
So, Mr. George seems to be extolling the virtue of returning to the typological evaluation of Scripture, which I heartily applaud. It requires, I think, a desire to be less dependent on personal interpretation of Scripture, but more dependent on the interpretation of the Church. Here, there is a departure from the Roman Catholic view of what it means for the Church to interpret things. With Rome, that is a matter of Papal decree - either supportive of a conciliar finding, or independently. Within Orthodoxy, we view the interpretation of the Church as being that which was passed down from the Apostles, and is reflected in the teaching of the Fathers (including modern day Fathers, such as St. Theophan the Recluse).
So, how does the Roman view of Mary compare to the Orthodox view of Mary? From the outside, to be honest, I don't think much difference would be noticeable. Both hold extremely high views of Mary. Both view her as the Theotokos, or Mother of God(which I'm told is more accurate than Godbearer). The mere act of being the Ark of the New Covenant would require her to be particularly holy. In fact, within Orthodoxy, she is known as the Panagia , or All-Holy. Churches which came out of the Reformation should take note of this, as this high view of Mary, being shared among both Orthodox and Roman Catholics, is clearly very ancient.
So, where is the difference. Well, one could dwell on recent (within the last century) additions to the ancient doctrines about the Theotokos, and pick them apart one by one, but I think there is something that each of these more recent doctrines have in common, that points to something farther back, which is the distinctive difference between Rome and the East. That difference is one of context, which is reflected in the differences in the iconographic traditions of East and West.
Most people who live in the West are familiar with various statues and depictions of Mary within Roman Catholicism. A frequently missing element is the absence of Christ in these depictions. Although not absolute, Orthodox are extremely hesitant to depict Mary without Christ present. This, in turn, is reflected in Orthodox doctrine. The last doctrine formally declared by a council about Mary was that of her being the Theotokos, or God bearer. This declaration was made to deal with the Nestorian heresy, as noted by George. In other words, the doctrine was formally declared in order to deal with a heresy about Christ. At that, this was merely a declaration of what was held before. As with other beliefs, such as that about her sinless life, her time living in the Temple, etc., all reflect traditions which were passed down from the early days of the Church. The one exception to the principle of Christocentric traditions may be that of the Dormition of the Blessed Virgin. However, this was never declared by any council, and merely reflected ancient belief. Rome has since modified this doctrine by declaring that Mary never actually died, but was rather assumed into heaven while still alive. All other modern Catholic doctrines about Mary, like their art, seem to have been developed without any necessary connection with Christology. Why was Mary immaculately conceived, why was she Assumed without dying, why is she the Co-Redemptrix? These beliefs do not reflect the ancient view of the Church, and each one largely fails to take into account Christ. None of them reflect an effort on the part of the Church to clarify a belief about Christ.
There is much that the East and the West hold in common about Mary. However, within the last century or so, Rome has started to add things to the deposit of faith about Mary that reflect a longer tendency toward focusing on Mary independently of Christ. This failure to keep things in a Christocentric context opens Rome up to the frequent charges of having elevated Mary up to the level of a deity.
BTW, the icon is a 6th century icon of the Theotokos from St. Catherine's Monastery on Mount Sinai.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Lutheranism vs. Orthodoxy
How Can We Honor Mary So?
Monday, March 05, 2007
Psaltiki
Explanation of Holy Week
Apologies to my 3 readers on not having kept up
with my goal of blogging about all of the different services of Lent, now that
Lent is about to come to an end. Let me provide at least a very superficial
overview of the season:
I have referenced the Akathist (literally meaning without sitting, a reference to the fact that the hymn was originally offered without sitting) to the Theotokos. This is done every Friday for the first five weeks of Lent. The last Friday is done the complete Akathist. During the week we have the Liturgy of the Presanctified, which is supposed to be a Vespers and Divine Liturgy put together (without the sanctification), although it is not always done this way. Fr. Freeman gives a good description of the Lenten Eucharistic services at his blog. Saturdays are reserved for praying for the departed, which beyond the direct purpose of the service, also provides us a means to look forward to Pascha and the resurrection.
Each of the Sundays, both leading up to and during Lent, have a special focus. I'll simply list them here, occasionally with a brief comment, and then simply provide a link to our Archdiocesan website's information on each Sunday:
I have referenced the Akathist (literally meaning without sitting, a reference to the fact that the hymn was originally offered without sitting) to the Theotokos. This is done every Friday for the first five weeks of Lent. The last Friday is done the complete Akathist. During the week we have the Liturgy of the Presanctified, which is supposed to be a Vespers and Divine Liturgy put together (without the sanctification), although it is not always done this way. Fr. Freeman gives a good description of the Lenten Eucharistic services at his blog. Saturdays are reserved for praying for the departed, which beyond the direct purpose of the service, also provides us a means to look forward to Pascha and the resurrection.
Each of the Sundays, both leading up to and during Lent, have a special focus. I'll simply list them here, occasionally with a brief comment, and then simply provide a link to our Archdiocesan website's information on each Sunday:
• Sunday of the Publican and Pharisee.
• Sunday of the Prodigal Son - I blogged a bit about this
Sunday and the previous here .
• Judgement Sunday - My blog entry on this .
• Forgiveness Sunday - I blogged a bit about this
here .
• First Sunday of Lent, the Sunday of Orthodoxy.
• Second Sunday of Lent, the Sunday of St. Gregory Palamas.
• Sunday of the Veneration of the Holy Cross.
• Sunday of St. John Climacus. He is the author of the
Ladder of Divine Ascent, probably one of the greatest works on the spiritual
life ever written.
• Sunday of St. Mary of Egypt . In this day of increasing
cultural approval of sexual immorality, her story is of great
importance.
This brings us now to the end of Lent. For those from the West, I know you're probably wondering what happened to Palm Sunday, etc., which is traditionally viewed to be part of Lent in the West. Well, in the East, Lent ends today. Holy Week is an entirely new "season" (if one week can be a season), leading up to Pascha. The intensity of Holy Week is incredible, as I've mentioned before. We begin tomorrow with the Saturday of Lazarus. Fr. Honeycutt has a great summary of the services of Holy Week at his blog. I would just like to highlight the interesting aspect of tomorrow's service, which will be a resurrection service (i.e. Sunday service) placed on a day normally used to commemorate the departed. With Lazarus, we get to do both. He both died, and was raised from the dead - thus pointing us to the General Resurrection at the second coming. This begins the tension of Holy Week, where we both focus with great intensity on Christ's passion, and the role our sinfulness plays in that, and where we begin to anticipate Pascha and the coming of the bridegroom.
A quick edit. The Greek Orthodox Archdiocese has a nice PDF bulletin insert that provides a nice summary of the services of Holy Week. You can access it here .
This brings us now to the end of Lent. For those from the West, I know you're probably wondering what happened to Palm Sunday, etc., which is traditionally viewed to be part of Lent in the West. Well, in the East, Lent ends today. Holy Week is an entirely new "season" (if one week can be a season), leading up to Pascha. The intensity of Holy Week is incredible, as I've mentioned before. We begin tomorrow with the Saturday of Lazarus. Fr. Honeycutt has a great summary of the services of Holy Week at his blog. I would just like to highlight the interesting aspect of tomorrow's service, which will be a resurrection service (i.e. Sunday service) placed on a day normally used to commemorate the departed. With Lazarus, we get to do both. He both died, and was raised from the dead - thus pointing us to the General Resurrection at the second coming. This begins the tension of Holy Week, where we both focus with great intensity on Christ's passion, and the role our sinfulness plays in that, and where we begin to anticipate Pascha and the coming of the bridegroom.
A quick edit. The Greek Orthodox Archdiocese has a nice PDF bulletin insert that provides a nice summary of the services of Holy Week. You can access it here .
Sunday, March 18, 2007
In case of a loss of cabin pressure...
Owing to the storm that hit New England this past week, I
spent the weekend in Boston, rather than at home. I need to remember to say
"Glory to God for All Things," in these cases. Since I was in Boston, I was
finally able to attend the Divine Liturgy at the Annunciation Cathedral . Its always fun to
visit other Churches. Today, the sermon was focused on Evangelism, and the need
for a mission oriented spirit among the
Orthodox.
The interesting part of the sermon came when he said that the first thing we must do, in order to spread the faith, is to deepen our own. Hence the title of this post. Before we help the person next to us with their mask, we should put our mask on. I couldn't help but think of one very practical reason for this. While the rightness of Orthodoxy should not necessarily be judged by the holiness of any individual member, that is precisely what happens. If I'm either struggling with numerous sins, or not showing much dedication to the Church, how is anyone going to buy what I'm telling them?
The interesting part of the sermon came when he said that the first thing we must do, in order to spread the faith, is to deepen our own. Hence the title of this post. Before we help the person next to us with their mask, we should put our mask on. I couldn't help but think of one very practical reason for this. While the rightness of Orthodoxy should not necessarily be judged by the holiness of any individual member, that is precisely what happens. If I'm either struggling with numerous sins, or not showing much dedication to the Church, how is anyone going to buy what I'm telling them?
In this sign, conquer
These words, inscribed in the sky with the Chi Rho, led St. Constantine to victory, and set the stage for the legalization of Christianity within the Roman Empire.
The sign of the cross has always played a significant role within the life of Christians from the earliest times. Nathan Bierma, from Calvin College, recently published an article in Christianity Today, surveying the history of the use of the sign of the cross, by virtue of a review of a couple of books - one by a Roman Catholic, and the other by an Orthodox author . Providentially, this article was published just a couple of weeks before the Sunday of the Veneration of the Holy Cross in the Orthodox Church (one wonders if the publishers were aware of this).
At the end of the article, Bierma makes a case for the adoption of the use of the sign of the cross by Protestants (with the acknowledgement that Liturgical Protestants, like Anglicans and Lutherans, have continued this practice from before the Reformation). This is all quite interesting. We've seen, over the last couple of decades, a growing interest in Patristics, a growing interest in Icons, and now an interest in Mary as well as an interest in the Sign of the Cross. What's most interesting is that this all feels a bit like my own journey into Orthodoxy, and somewhat like the story of others. The sequence may not be spot on, but its not far wrong. For me it started with being introduced to Patristics and Iconography by a wonderful Anglican Priest, who unfortunately has not yet converted. Then, as I became more involved in the AngloCatholic side of things, I adopted more practices of a Catholic/Orthodox nature. The sign of the cross, devotion to the Theotokos, fasting, etc. Ultimately, when, as one of my fave bloggers described it, the Episcopal Church forced me to think with my heart more, I became Orthodox. I can but pray that this generalized movement among some in the Protestant community reflects an overall movement back to the historic Church. Fulfill now the petitions of Your servants for our benefit, giving us the knowledge of Your truth in this world, and granting us eternal life in the world to come (from the Liturgy of St. Basil ).
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Some Comparative Christianity
There has been some interest from my extensive (3
or 4 member) reading audience to focus some energy on comparisons between
Orthodoxy and other Christian belief systems. I've done some of this,
admittedly with a bit of a polemic edge, so now the challenge will be to attempt
to simply point out the views of Orthodoxy, and how they compare to the views of
other Christian groups. Of course, my bias is clear. If Methodists say x, and
Orthodox say "not x," then I would say "not x" is the correct view.
Views on the Theotokos
Recently, Timothy George published a piece over at "First Things" which discusses the need for Evangelicals to recover a "biblical appreciation" of the Virgin Mary. This is not the first time, as he notes, that he has done so (he is a bit erroneous in stating that he wrote the previous article in 2004, it was actually 2003 ). This article provides a motivation to compare Catholic and Orthodox views on Mary (more so than the Protestant view), but it also provides an interesting opportunity to look at what may be an interesting change in the use of typology, and the Fathers, within Evangelical circles.
It is quite heartening to see an increasing interest within Evangelical circles in a proper view of Mary. Over the past decade or so, there had developed an interest in looking to the Church Fathers, as well, and this has largely been positive. Unfortunately, there has largely been a tendency to use the Fathers the wrong way - reading them through the lens of Scripture - as opposed to reading Scripture through the lens of the Fathers. What I mean by this is that the approach seems to be - interpret the Scripture, then look for passages in the Fathers that agree with this interpretation. Where there is agreement, fine, where there isn't, then ignore that particular Father's teaching (on the point in question). This tendency has led to yet another impasse in conversations between some groups of Protestants and (mostly) Catholics. As always, it is dangerous to generalize about what is a "Protestant" belief, as Protestantism is not monolithic. If the increasing interest in Mariology results in something similar, then there will be limited benefit. However, every step towards Orthodoxy is a good step, so I should be pleased.
Now that I've pointed out what I feel to be errors in the handling of the Church Fathers, I see an intriguing change reflected in this article. Ever since the time of the Reformation, there has been a hesitance to take a typological approach to Scripture similar to what is seen in the Fathers. There is an interesting book on early Anglican Divines that looks at the variety of takes on Patristic Typology. In general, as I recall, it was not looked upon favorably. The tendency was to deal with the "plain" meaning of Scripture and not engage in what was considered a more fanciful interpretive technique that leads, as would be argued, to error. This reflects the doctrine of Sola Scriptura. Not in the sense that the doctrine says "read only the Scripture, and read it this way," but rather it is an outgrowth of the doctrine. Follow me, for a moment. If all doctrine is to be derived from Scripture, then this requires that Scripture be perspicuous. This has become a formal doctrine, I believe, in some Protestant circles, and is at least an informal doctrine in most. If Scripture is not perfectly clear, then you are in a situation where you need something else to interpret Scripture. Although many Protestant denominations accept that there are those specifically called to be teachers, there is, even then, a hesitancy to declare Scripture to be unclear. If Scripture is perfectly clear - at least doctrinally - then you would become suspicious of any efforts to see hidden meanings in Scripture, and particularly if these meanings start pointing to matters of doctrine. This is what I suspect drove the move away from looking at Scripture the way the Fathers did.
So, Mr. George seems to be extolling the virtue of returning to the typological evaluation of Scripture, which I heartily applaud. It requires, I think, a desire to be less dependent on personal interpretation of Scripture, but more dependent on the interpretation of the Church. Here, there is a departure from the Roman Catholic view of what it means for the Church to interpret things. With Rome, that is a matter of Papal decree - either supportive of a conciliar finding, or independently. Within Orthodoxy, we view the interpretation of the Church as being that which was passed down from the Apostles, and is reflected in the teaching of the Fathers (including modern day Fathers, such as St. Theophan the Recluse).
So, how does the Roman view of Mary compare to the Orthodox view of Mary? From the outside, to be honest, I don't think much difference would be noticeable. Both hold extremely high views of Mary. Both view her as the Theotokos, or Mother of God(which I'm told is more accurate than Godbearer). The mere act of being the Ark of the New Covenant would require her to be particularly holy. In fact, within Orthodoxy, she is known as the Panagia , or All-Holy. Churches which came out of the Reformation should take note of this, as this high view of Mary, being shared among both Orthodox and Roman Catholics, is clearly very ancient.
So, where is the difference. Well, one could dwell on recent (within the last century) additions to the ancient doctrines about the Theotokos, and pick them apart one by one, but I think there is something that each of these more recent doctrines have in common, that points to something farther back, which is the distinctive difference between Rome and the East. That difference is one of context, which is reflected in the differences in the iconographic traditions of East and West.
Most people who live in the West are familiar with various statues and depictions of Mary within Roman Catholicism. A frequently missing element is the absence of Christ in these depictions. Although not absolute, Orthodox are extremely hesitant to depict Mary without Christ present. This, in turn, is reflected in Orthodox doctrine. The last doctrine formally declared by a council about Mary was that of her being the Theotokos, or God bearer. This declaration was made to deal with the Nestorian heresy, as noted by George. In other words, the doctrine was formally declared in order to deal with a heresy about Christ. At that, this was merely a declaration of what was held before. As with other beliefs, such as that about her sinless life, her time living in the Temple, etc., all reflect traditions which were passed down from the early days of the Church. The one exception to the principle of Christocentric traditions may be that of the Dormition of the Blessed Virgin. However, this was never declared by any council, and merely reflected ancient belief. Rome has since modified this doctrine by declaring that Mary never actually died, but was rather assumed into heaven while still alive. All other modern Catholic doctrines about Mary, like their art, seem to have been developed without any necessary connection with Christology. Why was Mary immaculately conceived, why was she Assumed without dying, why is she the Co-Redemptrix? These beliefs do not reflect the ancient view of the Church, and each one largely fails to take into account Christ. None of them reflect an effort on the part of the Church to clarify a belief about Christ.
There is much that the East and the West hold in common about Mary. However, within the last century or so, Rome has started to add things to the deposit of faith about Mary that reflect a longer tendency toward focusing on Mary independently of Christ. This failure to keep things in a Christocentric context opens Rome up to the frequent charges of having elevated Mary up to the level of a deity.
BTW, the icon is a 6th century icon of the Theotokos from St. Catherine's Monastery on Mount Sinai.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Lutheranism vs. Orthodoxy
I was alerted to an interesting blog entry about Lutheran pastors becoming Orthodox.
I don't necessarily want to wade too deep into this one, as their are some
blogosphere heavyweights on this one, such as Christopher Orr. The comments, as
well, are quite interesting, and probably do a better job than I at providing an
apology for Orthodoxy. There are a few remarks, though, that I think worth
making.
As you read through the comments on the blog, there is a hint of an unfortunate reality. That is, there is a significant separation between Luther's theology (and that of his spiritual "descendants") and Orthodoxy. The problem is not really that the Orthodox lessen the centrality of justification by faith, but its rather that we have an entirely different understanding of what that means. This difference in understanding then drives the level of importance assigned by the two groups to different doctrines.
One thing I've learned over the years of mostly observing Lutheran-Catholic debates is that it is very easy to over generalize when it comes to Lutheranism. This may have to do with the fact that Luther, himself, tended toward over generalization as a sort of polemic technique. Whatever the source, it is easy to do. There is also a tendency to assign quotes to Luther that may not actually belong to him. In many cases, the quotes seem to accurately reflect his theology, but not so in every case. So, keep this in mind as I make generalizations about Lutheran doctrine. One quote often assigned to Luther, but I believe, of questionable origins, is that our state after we have "been saved," is that we become a "dunghill covered in snow." That is, Christ's righteousness is imputed to me and there is no ontological change on my part. This, in my mind, creates a number of difficulties (Revelation 21:27 comes to mind), but I won't go into this here. The Orthodox view is almost diametrically opposed to this. We see Christ's death as a killing the old man, and his resurrection restoring human nature to its fully divinized state. We then, can "appropriate" this deification and partake of the Divine Nature as St. Peter instructs us. So, the Lutheran view is that we remain corrupt for all time, with only the appearance of purity, while the Orthodox view is that we have the opportunity to increase in purity. Christ's righteousness actually becomes ours, as opposed to merely being attributed to us. Note the following exchange in the comments section:
[LotzaStitches said...
Anastasia Theodoridis said...
There's the key difference, perhaps. This is not the question Orthodoxy is all about answering. For us, the key question is that of the lover concerning the beloved: "How can I become one with God?"
That's quite different in emphasis and implication and where the attention is focused.
My question/comment:
And where *is* the attention focused?
When I read your key question it implies to me that there is something *I* have to do to be saved. I know that Jesus has done it all and that I am just a poor miserable sinner covered in Christ's righteousness.]
So, in the Lutheran view, the central event in history is the Crucifixion. It is Christ's death specifically that pays the price for our sins. To the Orthodox, the Crucifixion is clearly important, but not more so than the Incarnation, and to some degree somewhat less important than the resurrection, and this is because Christ heals our nature by its assumption, and ultimately divinizes it via the resurrection. This is reflected in the relative importance of various holy days within the Church. The Nativity (and more importantly, Theophany) are important days as they reflect on the Incarnation. Holy Week and Good Friday are packed with services, reflecting on the Crucifixion, and the crowning, without question biggest, feast, is that of Pascha (Easter).
The fact that the various Lutheran confessions still assign the same relative importance to these holy days led me to question whether I had things right, so I posted a comment inquiring into that. I basically asked why the importance of Easter? The response was that the importance is simply that the Resurrection is a sign that Christ's sacrifice on the Cross was accepted. That seemed to ring a bit hollow to me, as it still seems that the big celebration would be around the crucifixion (plus the fact that sacrifice wasn't offered until after the Ascension (Hebrews 10:11-12 ) makes Pastor Weedon's timing a bit odd - although I may be guilty of thinking too linearly).
So, we can see that Lutheranism and Orthodoxy have, in fact, huge differences in understanding of how justification works. It is this difference that drives the degree of importance assigned to other doctrines. The problem is not, as asserted by one commenter, that "However, there are other points of Greek Theology that are problematic - and if pushed could end up endangering justification by faith. There are errors in Greek theology." Rather, these points of Greek Theology (and Russian, and Serbian, and Antiochian, and...) are necessary results of the Orthodox view of justification. That a Lutheran would see these points as heading toward error speaks to the chasm that separates us. I'm reminded of the discussions between the Tubingen scholars and Patriarch Jeremias II.
One final comment has to do with some of the exegesis on that blog, and the comments that follow. One I made a comment on was about the reading of Matthew 25 and the separation of those who ministered to the poor and sick, and those who didn't. I checked with the commentaries of Blessed Theophylact , which is a good summary of Patristic view on the Gospels, and there was no basis for asserting that those who didn't minister in the story in fact, did minister, and were guilty of wanting credit for it. That interpretation is a clear case of trying to fit a warning from our Saviour into a theology that it directly contradicts. A somewhat less severe case was the one I referenced before where Christ was apparently offering his sacrifice to the Father before the Ascension - which is an interesting thing as at the time Christ was supposed to be preaching to the spirits in prison. Again, there is a need to explain the Resurrection, which doesn't fit very neatly into the Lutheran worldview.
As you read through the comments on the blog, there is a hint of an unfortunate reality. That is, there is a significant separation between Luther's theology (and that of his spiritual "descendants") and Orthodoxy. The problem is not really that the Orthodox lessen the centrality of justification by faith, but its rather that we have an entirely different understanding of what that means. This difference in understanding then drives the level of importance assigned by the two groups to different doctrines.
One thing I've learned over the years of mostly observing Lutheran-Catholic debates is that it is very easy to over generalize when it comes to Lutheranism. This may have to do with the fact that Luther, himself, tended toward over generalization as a sort of polemic technique. Whatever the source, it is easy to do. There is also a tendency to assign quotes to Luther that may not actually belong to him. In many cases, the quotes seem to accurately reflect his theology, but not so in every case. So, keep this in mind as I make generalizations about Lutheran doctrine. One quote often assigned to Luther, but I believe, of questionable origins, is that our state after we have "been saved," is that we become a "dunghill covered in snow." That is, Christ's righteousness is imputed to me and there is no ontological change on my part. This, in my mind, creates a number of difficulties (Revelation 21:27 comes to mind), but I won't go into this here. The Orthodox view is almost diametrically opposed to this. We see Christ's death as a killing the old man, and his resurrection restoring human nature to its fully divinized state. We then, can "appropriate" this deification and partake of the Divine Nature as St. Peter instructs us. So, the Lutheran view is that we remain corrupt for all time, with only the appearance of purity, while the Orthodox view is that we have the opportunity to increase in purity. Christ's righteousness actually becomes ours, as opposed to merely being attributed to us. Note the following exchange in the comments section:
[LotzaStitches said...
Anastasia Theodoridis said...
There's the key difference, perhaps. This is not the question Orthodoxy is all about answering. For us, the key question is that of the lover concerning the beloved: "How can I become one with God?"
That's quite different in emphasis and implication and where the attention is focused.
My question/comment:
And where *is* the attention focused?
When I read your key question it implies to me that there is something *I* have to do to be saved. I know that Jesus has done it all and that I am just a poor miserable sinner covered in Christ's righteousness.]
So, in the Lutheran view, the central event in history is the Crucifixion. It is Christ's death specifically that pays the price for our sins. To the Orthodox, the Crucifixion is clearly important, but not more so than the Incarnation, and to some degree somewhat less important than the resurrection, and this is because Christ heals our nature by its assumption, and ultimately divinizes it via the resurrection. This is reflected in the relative importance of various holy days within the Church. The Nativity (and more importantly, Theophany) are important days as they reflect on the Incarnation. Holy Week and Good Friday are packed with services, reflecting on the Crucifixion, and the crowning, without question biggest, feast, is that of Pascha (Easter).
The fact that the various Lutheran confessions still assign the same relative importance to these holy days led me to question whether I had things right, so I posted a comment inquiring into that. I basically asked why the importance of Easter? The response was that the importance is simply that the Resurrection is a sign that Christ's sacrifice on the Cross was accepted. That seemed to ring a bit hollow to me, as it still seems that the big celebration would be around the crucifixion (plus the fact that sacrifice wasn't offered until after the Ascension (Hebrews 10:11-12 ) makes Pastor Weedon's timing a bit odd - although I may be guilty of thinking too linearly).
So, we can see that Lutheranism and Orthodoxy have, in fact, huge differences in understanding of how justification works. It is this difference that drives the degree of importance assigned to other doctrines. The problem is not, as asserted by one commenter, that "However, there are other points of Greek Theology that are problematic - and if pushed could end up endangering justification by faith. There are errors in Greek theology." Rather, these points of Greek Theology (and Russian, and Serbian, and Antiochian, and...) are necessary results of the Orthodox view of justification. That a Lutheran would see these points as heading toward error speaks to the chasm that separates us. I'm reminded of the discussions between the Tubingen scholars and Patriarch Jeremias II.
One final comment has to do with some of the exegesis on that blog, and the comments that follow. One I made a comment on was about the reading of Matthew 25 and the separation of those who ministered to the poor and sick, and those who didn't. I checked with the commentaries of Blessed Theophylact , which is a good summary of Patristic view on the Gospels, and there was no basis for asserting that those who didn't minister in the story in fact, did minister, and were guilty of wanting credit for it. That interpretation is a clear case of trying to fit a warning from our Saviour into a theology that it directly contradicts. A somewhat less severe case was the one I referenced before where Christ was apparently offering his sacrifice to the Father before the Ascension - which is an interesting thing as at the time Christ was supposed to be preaching to the spirits in prison. Again, there is a need to explain the Resurrection, which doesn't fit very neatly into the Lutheran worldview.
How Can We Honor Mary So?
There is a practice within Orthodoxy of offering
an Akathist to the Theotokos during the first five
Fridays of Great Lent. For those not familiar with it, the service exalts the
Blessed Virgin to a very high state. As I was sitting in my first experience of
this a couple of weeks ago, it dawned on me why we can do this - why is it safe
to do so.
In general, it is only a small subset of people I've run across who think that Mary was just some ordinary girl who just happened to give birth to the Messiah. In many Protestant traditions, most notably Anglicanism, Lutheranism, and to an extent, Calvinism, it is clearly understood that Mary was somebody very special. The thrust of the arguments against Rome (who is the usual target of such arguments) is that to speak of Mary in to special a way is to elevate her to being a God in her own right, or at the least, a fourth member of the Trinity. I won't get into why its proper to praise Mary the way that we do, that has been well handled by many others. No, I simply want to address why it is safe, for the Orthodox at least, to do so. I will confess that what I'm about to say might be a bit inflammatory, so I'll apologize at the outset.
The reason, IMO, that the Orthodox are safe in their treatment of Mary is that we are abundantly, absolutely, clear about who Jesus is. Our prayers constantly remind us that Jesus is God. He may be fully human, but he is also fully Divine. Beyond the frequent reference to "Christ our God", we even see it in how we refer to Mary. As I typed this up, I found myself struggling and feeling awkward at referring to the Theotokos simply as "Mary". We refer to her as the Blessed Virgin Mary, and more frequently as the Theotokos, or God Bearer. This latter title, which became a key element of the Council of Chalcedon, ensures that we are always mindful of the fact that she bore the God of the Universe within her womb. If Christ is clearly and unequivocally God, then no matter how lofty our language about the Theotokos is, it can't get out of hand since she is only the bearer of God, and not God Himself.
I'm not saying that other Christian groups (Jehovah's WItnesses excluded) deny the divinity of Christ. However, there has been a tendency over time to focus so much on his humanity, and his status as our "friend", our teacher, etc., that language and thoughts about him being the one who created the world seem to have faded away. When that happens, and we lose practical clarity on who Christ is, there comes a real risk that we'll confuse he and his mother in the order of things.
In general, it is only a small subset of people I've run across who think that Mary was just some ordinary girl who just happened to give birth to the Messiah. In many Protestant traditions, most notably Anglicanism, Lutheranism, and to an extent, Calvinism, it is clearly understood that Mary was somebody very special. The thrust of the arguments against Rome (who is the usual target of such arguments) is that to speak of Mary in to special a way is to elevate her to being a God in her own right, or at the least, a fourth member of the Trinity. I won't get into why its proper to praise Mary the way that we do, that has been well handled by many others. No, I simply want to address why it is safe, for the Orthodox at least, to do so. I will confess that what I'm about to say might be a bit inflammatory, so I'll apologize at the outset.
The reason, IMO, that the Orthodox are safe in their treatment of Mary is that we are abundantly, absolutely, clear about who Jesus is. Our prayers constantly remind us that Jesus is God. He may be fully human, but he is also fully Divine. Beyond the frequent reference to "Christ our God", we even see it in how we refer to Mary. As I typed this up, I found myself struggling and feeling awkward at referring to the Theotokos simply as "Mary". We refer to her as the Blessed Virgin Mary, and more frequently as the Theotokos, or God Bearer. This latter title, which became a key element of the Council of Chalcedon, ensures that we are always mindful of the fact that she bore the God of the Universe within her womb. If Christ is clearly and unequivocally God, then no matter how lofty our language about the Theotokos is, it can't get out of hand since she is only the bearer of God, and not God Himself.
I'm not saying that other Christian groups (Jehovah's WItnesses excluded) deny the divinity of Christ. However, there has been a tendency over time to focus so much on his humanity, and his status as our "friend", our teacher, etc., that language and thoughts about him being the one who created the world seem to have faded away. When that happens, and we lose practical clarity on who Christ is, there comes a real risk that we'll confuse he and his mother in the order of things.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Psaltiki
The following article was written by Alex Khalil,
who is a Psaltis (chanter) who thankfully resides here in San Diego, and from
whom I've had the privilege of a few
lessons:
Why do we sing in church? Chant (aka "psaltiki") is not merely a tradition, a relic that we should maintain simply because we have inherited it. Chant is not something that is only meant to beautify the services and sacraments of the Orthodox--practically any type of music could serve this purpose. Neither is chant something static, prescribed for us by people from another time who had different aesthetics and culture than our own. Chant is a living tradition and, as such, is made relevant to the congregation by chanters who are trained in the tradition and have handed it down to each other over more than a milenium.
Aside from its function of the praise and glorification of God, something very difficult for us to understand and discuss intellectually, chant has a very specific function in Orthodox liturgical worship: chant is a form of exegesis. Chant is a way of interpreting, and then realizing, in the truest sense of the word, the meaning of sacred text. Chant originated in ancient times when texts were written without punctuation, or even spaces between words. Often, they were even written left to right then right to left, so that, to one untrained, they would look like meaningless strings of letters bewilderingly juxtaposed. The Septuagint Psalms, of which we read six at every Orthros, were first written in exactly this way. The job of a chanter was to sing, or intone these texts in such a way that the listener could hear the words and phrases. A chanter was, then, a sort of de-coder of texts, one who brought them out of "storage" and into the real world of human experience. This practice was called "upothesis" or "breathing the text to life". This was very significant for ancient Christians as the "living voice" was considered as the most important means of communication or understanding. Texts were considered as mnemonic aids that were only useful in the hands of one who already knew and understood them from an oral source. Oral tradition is, to this day, extremely important in Orthodox Christianity. This is why we practice a liturgy and sacraments, rather than simply "study" together, read biblical texts, or focus only on preaching. The actual experience of presence of the divine, something that cannot be described or expressed in words, is more important than its mere signification through words and ideas which can, at best, only represent it.
As the art of chant developed further, chant became a refined and subtle method of bringing the text to life. The octoechos, or the "eight modes" of the church are a manifestation of the function of chant as an interpretive tool. When one sings a phrase such as "Kyrie Ekekraxa" ("Lord I have cried unto You") in each of the eight modes a different aspect of the text is highlighted. For example in the first mode Kyrie Ekekraxa is subdued and penitent, a plaintive cry, calling out to God from a distance, a "voice in the wilderness". However, in the second mode the melody echoes a "phimi" or hymn sung before a bishop. This gives one the feeling of closeness to God, being in God's immediate presence and addressing him more in a manner that one might address an earthly King. Thus, chant becomes like a prism; breaking up and separating meanings in the text as a prism splits a beam of light.
I wrote this essay on December 12, 2006, while staying at the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople. This morning, I had the honor of chanting the orthros and liturgy of St. Spyridon at St. Spyridon's church on Halki island with His All Holiness Patriarch Bartholemew I and the chanters of the Patriarchal church. During the service, I was distinctly aware of the awesome power of the liturgical music and felt that, for St. Spyridon's day, I should write something about it for our own church. I am here working on my doctoral dissertation in music, the topic of which is the chant tradition of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. In the future, I will write more on diverse topics in chant in order to share what I have learned with you. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,
Why do we sing in church? Chant (aka "psaltiki") is not merely a tradition, a relic that we should maintain simply because we have inherited it. Chant is not something that is only meant to beautify the services and sacraments of the Orthodox--practically any type of music could serve this purpose. Neither is chant something static, prescribed for us by people from another time who had different aesthetics and culture than our own. Chant is a living tradition and, as such, is made relevant to the congregation by chanters who are trained in the tradition and have handed it down to each other over more than a milenium.
Aside from its function of the praise and glorification of God, something very difficult for us to understand and discuss intellectually, chant has a very specific function in Orthodox liturgical worship: chant is a form of exegesis. Chant is a way of interpreting, and then realizing, in the truest sense of the word, the meaning of sacred text. Chant originated in ancient times when texts were written without punctuation, or even spaces between words. Often, they were even written left to right then right to left, so that, to one untrained, they would look like meaningless strings of letters bewilderingly juxtaposed. The Septuagint Psalms, of which we read six at every Orthros, were first written in exactly this way. The job of a chanter was to sing, or intone these texts in such a way that the listener could hear the words and phrases. A chanter was, then, a sort of de-coder of texts, one who brought them out of "storage" and into the real world of human experience. This practice was called "upothesis" or "breathing the text to life". This was very significant for ancient Christians as the "living voice" was considered as the most important means of communication or understanding. Texts were considered as mnemonic aids that were only useful in the hands of one who already knew and understood them from an oral source. Oral tradition is, to this day, extremely important in Orthodox Christianity. This is why we practice a liturgy and sacraments, rather than simply "study" together, read biblical texts, or focus only on preaching. The actual experience of presence of the divine, something that cannot be described or expressed in words, is more important than its mere signification through words and ideas which can, at best, only represent it.
As the art of chant developed further, chant became a refined and subtle method of bringing the text to life. The octoechos, or the "eight modes" of the church are a manifestation of the function of chant as an interpretive tool. When one sings a phrase such as "Kyrie Ekekraxa" ("Lord I have cried unto You") in each of the eight modes a different aspect of the text is highlighted. For example in the first mode Kyrie Ekekraxa is subdued and penitent, a plaintive cry, calling out to God from a distance, a "voice in the wilderness". However, in the second mode the melody echoes a "phimi" or hymn sung before a bishop. This gives one the feeling of closeness to God, being in God's immediate presence and addressing him more in a manner that one might address an earthly King. Thus, chant becomes like a prism; breaking up and separating meanings in the text as a prism splits a beam of light.
I wrote this essay on December 12, 2006, while staying at the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople. This morning, I had the honor of chanting the orthros and liturgy of St. Spyridon at St. Spyridon's church on Halki island with His All Holiness Patriarch Bartholemew I and the chanters of the Patriarchal church. During the service, I was distinctly aware of the awesome power of the liturgical music and felt that, for St. Spyridon's day, I should write something about it for our own church. I am here working on my doctoral dissertation in music, the topic of which is the chant tradition of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. In the future, I will write more on diverse topics in chant in order to share what I have learned with you. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,