Orthodox Evangelism

Several odd echoes were heard bouncing around the eroding walls of The Abandoned Mind last week that seemed to converge into a single thought pertaining to Orthodox evangelism. Ideas which seem simply brilliant in that poorly-illumined environment are frequently revealed as mere smoldering wicks when brought out into the harsh light of day. Thus I present this offering to you who dwell above ground to determine if its nature is more of light or of smoke.

The first echo was heard as I was putting the finishing touches on a new paper entitled “Askesis in the Ordinary Orthodox Life” which is intended for people new to our faith as an introduction to the simple asceticism of prayer, fasting, almsgiving and works of charity, the study of Scripture and of Orthodox spiritual writings, the continuous remembrance of God, and the general metanoia (repentance) of the Orthodox Christian life. Although infinitely less intense than monastic asceticism, even in the relatively toned-down form commonly practiced at the parish level, the disciplines of Orthodox askesis seem very difficult to Christians used to an entirely different system of spiritual pursuit mostly centered on Bible study alone. This paper was written to explain the importance of askesis and why it often seems to be such a difficult way of life to us.

To put it simply, Orthodox askesis seems hard because it reveals to us (surprise!) that we are truly fallen human beings after all. If we try to keep even a minimal daily rule of prayer we quickly find ourselves stymied by a strange and deeply-rooted resistance to it. Our excuse is that we can’t find the time to pray or have too much else to do, but on the inside we know that the real reason we don’t pray is simply because we don’t want to. One of the causes (as well as a continuing consequence) of the fall is that man craves complete autonomy from God. Oh, we want God to save us from hell or to bless us from heaven with good health and prosperity, but beyond that we would really much prefer to be our own gods and live without dependence upon any other. Infecting our darkened hearts is an idolatrous and shameful self-reliance that rankles at the idea of offering praise and thanksgiving to the almighty and adorable God such as is fitting for mere creatures like us to give. Like the Serpent before us, we want independence from God and we indeed want to be above God. It is hard for people with such ambitions to humbly prostrate themselves before the true God in prayer. On the plus side, the chances are that we would never become aware of this impulse in us unless we were given a rule of prayer to struggle with in the first place.

We learn similar terrible truths about ourselves when we try to fast. The Genesis story tells us that Adam fell from grace by breaking his simple fast. Turning aside from dependence upon God, he looked to the forbidden fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil to give him something immediately that he did not have the patience to wait upon God to receive. He wanted his “eyes to be opened” and to “become like God,” not through God’s process of spiritual illumination and theosis, but through a quick and earthly means which “seemed good” to his rational mind. He said “no” to God and “yes” to this food as the means to obtain what he wanted. Orthodox spirituality recognizes that this damning tendency still resides in us, and not just regarding food only, but also in all the other earthly things that we turn to expecting to receive from them a satisfaction and contentment greater than that which God gives. By imposing upon us a regular and regulated fasting, the askesis of Orthodox spirituality challenges us to say “no” to food and to learn to say “yes” once again to God. By learning to say no to food and control our bodily appetites, we also learn to say no to the many other bodily sins and passions which might otherwise overcome us. This is why the Desert Fathers taught us that the greatest weapon against the temptation of fornication is diligent fasting from food. At first blush we may not see the connection between the two, but again it gets down to the idea that if we are so easily overcome by the simple lust for a cheeseburger on a fast day, how will we ever learn to control the far greater lustful temptations of the more devastating sins of the flesh? We fallen human beings need to learn to care for our souls and strengthen them by disciplining our bodies and denying them that which they blindly and foolishly crave.

The second echo came as the result of a conversation with a new inquirer into Orthodoxy who commented to me how startled he was to discover how difficult the askesis of Orthodoxy is. Although he had been a Protestant believer for many years, and would truthfully be considered a “mature Christian” in that environment, he found the askesis of Orthodoxy very humbling by virtue of the fact that it introduces a struggle seemingly way out of proportion to the simple demands it makes. He was finding it difficult to keep the basic rule of prayer and the very simple fast I had prescribed for him to begin with. He therefore wondered if he was “cut out” for life as an Orthodox Christian because of this. I don’t know a single experienced Orthodox Christian who wouldn’t be sympathetic to these feelings! I explained that he was simply making the basic discovery that we have all made, namely that we are surely forgiven by God, but still fallen in our humanity. Orthodox askesis comprises the essential elements of the long and often painful road back to a life directed not by fleshly passions and cravings for comfort and pleasure, but by the Spirit of God and the fruits that obedience to Him brings into our lives, such as self-control, patience, and godliness.

The third echo reverberating off the walls of The Abandoned Mind was the reminder to me that both Evangelical and Charismatic Christians have largely abandoned physical disciplines and elevated Bible reading to the status of being the primary and all-in-one sacrament and tool of spiritual growth. Among such folks, spirituality is often foolishly gauged on the basis of how many Bible verses a person has memorized and can seamlessly insert into a conversation, as well as his overall proficiency in utilizing selected verses to proof-text his chosen theological views. A knowledgeable and persuasive man is therefore perceived to be a spiritually mature man more often than not. In that context, purity of belief is seen as being more important than purity of life, for we are all sinners after all, and no one is perfect (“Christians are not perfect, just forgiven” is the bumper-sticker expression of this popular concept). Thus not only are the evangelical/charismatic camps heavily weighted toward a strictly cerebral approach to God, but they also view the ancient Christian disciplines of traditional prayers, fasting, almsgiving, and etc. that make up Orthodox askesis with suspicion, on the basis that they seem to detract from the all-important business of attending to the mind alone and filling it with postmodern Protestant dogma.

So what does all this have to do with Orthodox evangelism? Simply put, I have my doubts that Orthodoxy is poised to become “the next great religious movement” of America. By virtue of their unprecedented prosperity, Americans have become soft and flabby, and lovers of pleasure, comfort, and convenience. Evangelicalism and its offshoot, the Charismatic movement, have made great inroads into the American culture, not because they represent truth, but in large part because they have made Christianity “convenient” for so many Americans.

In the early centuries of the faith, Christianity was not presented as a set of beliefs but as a way of life. Seen as the fulfillment of Judaism and incorporating its core practices, Christianity soon spread beyond that environment and ethos to the pagan worlds outside. This required there to be extensive catechisms, often lasting for three years, to introduce pagan converts to the mindset and lifestyle of the Christian faith. It wasn’t simply a matter of presenting folks with “The Four Spiritual Laws” and leading them to accept Jesus. They needed to be taught how to live out a genuine metanoia leading to spiritual illumination and growth in the likeness of God in Christ. Christian practice centered on the liturgical worship and sacramental life of the Church which, existing prior to the advent of Zwingli in the 16th century, had not yet been explained away as purely symbolic and cerebral. In short, Christianity was a real commitment to a real way of life, and not just a set of principles that one intellectually accepted in order to “get saved”.

Eastern Orthodoxy remains a serious commitment, and our catechisms still often last at least a year or more, largely to undo the effects of Western rationalism which was responsible for leading the later Reformers away from belief in the “mystery” of the Church and its sacraments toward the resulting exaltation of “reason” and sensible religion, and of course the cheap grace mentality of contemporary Christendom. Orthodoxy, while remaining a truly universal faith, is still not everyone’s cup of tea. Persons wedded to their modern doctrinal systems, and wielding their Bibles to declare their complete independence and autonomy from the historic Christian Church, will not likely be attracted to it. We fallen humans like to be self-reliant, remember, and in the minds of many the Bible grants them that exact desire. Also, Americans who simply want a convenient religion that does not make too many demands on them will never find Orthodoxy appealing.

In considering these things, I wonder if Orthodoxy should not be thought of as just another option on the American religious scene, another choice as it were, but rather as a calling from God. While that may sound dreadfully pretentious to some, to those who have entered into the Orthodox life and its narrow and difficult way of askesis, there may appear to be an inkling of truth to the claim. Surely no one would choose to voluntarily lay down his life, take up his own cross daily, and follow Christ on a path of constant self-denial and a kind of “living martyrdom” unless he were called to that by God. There are so many easier, or more “self-affirming,” or frankly entertaining forms of Christianity to choose from. Churches today are practically scrambling over themselves in the effort to become “seeker-sensitive” and offer folks the religion that they want. Walk into any Christian bookstore and you will find infinite shelves of self-help books putting a Christian spin on the nation’s desire for self-fulfillment, or as it is expressed in the religious jargon, the “abundant life”. Where are the books on metanoia, on the voluntary self-cancellation inherent in the traditional Christian way, leading to exaltation by God? Good luck on finding those, as this is not what is appealing to the majority of American Christians.

And so, if indeed Orthodoxy is a calling, in order for Orthodox evangelism to be effective it requires that we Orthodox believers ourselves fulfill that calling to live our faith to the maximum of our ability. What good is there in asking others to embrace a lifestyle that we ourselves live only marginally? We cannot afford to offer the insipid counsel to “look upon the message, not the messenger” in our dealings with others. Orthodoxy is an incarnational faith; it must be fleshed out and lived, otherwise it is simply another cerebral exercise with no merit, and an unnecessarily complex one at that!

Yes, the Orthodox way is difficult. But that is because we are truly fallen and thus for us, the way leading to destruction is far easier than the way leading to God. Though difficult, Orthodoxy is also the way of true joy, for it actually and literally delivers people from the tyranny of sin and forms the holiness of God within them. Orthodoxy does not try to shortcut the process to joy by ignoring our sins and simply “praising Jesus”. It recognizes that our Lord indeed taught, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted”. The difficult struggle to defeat our sins causes much mourning along the way. But it leads to the true joy of victory over them and unhindered communion with God.

This is the life that God has called us to, and perhaps will call many others to as well. Let us do our best to see our life as a calling and fulfill it, not only for our sakes, but for the sake of any others whom God may call into communion with Himself through the ancient and holy way of His Orthodox Church.

There you have it! I will leave you who dwell in the land of bright sun and blue sky to decide whether this thought is more of light or of smoke, while I return to my labors deep within The Abandoned Mind.