true wisdom

“Abba Isidore of Pelusia said, ‘To live without speaking is better than to speak without living. For the former who lives rightly does good even by his silence, but the latter does no good even when he speaks. When words and life correspond to one another they are together the whole of philosophy.” –Abba Isidore of Pelusia, in The Sayings of the Desert Fathers

When I speak to young people, they often say that they do not believe in Christ because of the behavior of their parents and members of the church. They saw this as they were growing up. “Christians are hypocrites,” they say. They mean that the words did not correspond to the behavior. But of course this is true for all human beings, because we are under the sway of sin and death. Faith is to overcome the power of death, not through our own power, but by trusting the Spirit of God to make us righteous through repentance. It is the Holy Spirit who grants that our faith and our actions correspond with one another. During Lent we pray that in humility, we would ask for the gift of grace which lets Christ show in our lives, more than in our words. +fr Brendan

Call Everyone Brother

CALL EVERYONE BROTHER

Recently I received an e-mail from an old friend, someone I knew years ago before my family became Orthodox Christians and long before I became a priest. He addressed his note to “Brother Brendan” and signed it, “Brother J—–.” Since neither he nor I are Catholic monks or hermits, I knew the reason for his salutation was simple. He was sticking to the commandment of Christ (Matthew 23:09) to “call no man your father on the earth.” Like all Orthodox priests in America, I am used to hearing this admonition whenever I am among Evangelical and Pentecostal Christians, living as we do in the Bible Belt. But this time I have decided to fight back. I’m going to call everyone “brother.” Regardless how rude they are.

It is true that the Apostle Paul says, “Keep away from any brother who is… not in accord with the tradition that you received from us” (II Thessalonians 3:6). And it is a fact that my friend has not received the Apostolic tradition. Actually, the modern Evangelical churches as a whole did not receive the traditions handed down by the Apostles. The Orthodox churches did. (Baptists, for example, did not even exist for another 1,600 years). Should I keep away from them? Would that mean that I should not call them “brother?”

Before pondering the answer to these questions, however, I want to return to the original commandment from Christ to the Pharisees, to “Call no man your father…” What did Jesus mean? What did the early Christians do? Beyond that, I am curious about what modern Evangelicals do when they are growing up.

Based on my own personal experience of countless Evangelical ministers and missionaries over the years, I am trying to imagine how this gets started in the lives of young Evangelical Christians.I can picture the moment when it first dawns on a would-be evangelist that he needs to “obey the Bible.” In my fantasy, a pimply-faced thirteen-year-old has just returned from Bible Camp and, arriving a little late at the breakfast table, takes his seat. Dad says, “Good morning, J—-. How was camp?” And the boy answers, “Brother Tom, I am withholding the hand of fellowship from you because you insist on being called ‘Father.’ From now on you can refer to me as Brother J—– and I will refer to you as Brother Tom.’

How would that go over? Probably, at least in my imagination, Mom intervenes. “What a way to talk to your father!” she says. “Mom,” the teenager reposts, “I’m only following the Bible the way Brother Epps taught us.” Of course there is no biblical injunction against calling any woman “Mom.” Maybe—and I have never had this experience, so I do not know—young Evangelicals do not talk to their fathers at all (just as they often ignore me if I say ‘hello’). Maybe they do not call them “Dad.” Maybe they just preach their version of the gospel to them, warning them that they will spend eternity in Hell if they want to be called “Dad.” Maybe, like modern Danish people, they just call their parents by their first names. I don’t know.

But back to the Bible. The context of Jesus’ admonition to “call no man your father on earth” is that the Pharisees were justifying their rude behavior by asserting that they were “sons of Abraham.” To them, this meant that they were true Jews who not only kept the Torah (the Law of Moses) but traced their roots to the Patriarchs. In this context, Jesus is warning them that the real source of spiritual life is not the Patriarchs, but our heavenly Father. Here, Jesus is quoting from Malachi 2:10, in which the prophet exhorts the people to be kind to one another because they all have one Father who is in heaven.

Jesus also warned the Pharisees against calling each other “rabbi,” Teacher (and presumably, the associated terms rav, rabban and rabboni) because the real source of teaching is God. The thrust of the whole passage is that the Pharisees were hypocrites, because they did not love one another but rather set themselves up as judges of all the rest of the world. Jesus is saying that rather, we ought to be humble before God and not judge others (see the whole of Matthew chapter 23).

So did the early Christians refuse to call anyone “father?” Did Jesus’ followers steadfastly refuse to use the term “rabbi?” Apparently not. The Gospels record that when Miriam (Mary) of Magdala encountered the risen Christ, she embraced him and called him Rabboni. This is an honorific term: it means not only “teacher,” but something like “my exalted teacher.” It is a sign of profound respect. And in humility, Jesus did not rebuke her (he didn’t say, “call me brother, sister Mary”) but he said simply, “Do not hold onto me, for I have not yet ascended to my father and your father… .”

What did the early Christians call the Apostles? St. Paul writes to the Corinthians, “for although you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus…” (1 Corinthians 4:15). Whoops. It is true that the Apostles write to the “brothers and sisters” of the faith. And it seems to be true also that the Apostles, in turn, were recognized as the founders—“fathers”—of the various churches.

What about teachers? After all, Jesus admonished the Jews not to call each other “teacher.” And the Apostle Paul said, “Let few be teachers.” Well, actually the early Christians did refer to their teachers as “Teacher,” in Greek, didaskale. It was a respectful term. But should modern Evangelical Christians avoid this term? I am trying to imagine a fourth-grade Evangelical who has been trained to raise his hand in class and say, “Sister Shirley, I need to go to the bathroom” rather than the more respectful, “Teacher, I need to go the bathroom.”

Actually, where I live there are self-appointed Bible teachers everywhere. Of course, they are careful not to call each other Rabbi. They just use “Brother” or “Evangelist,” or “Deacon,” or “Youth Minister,” instead. Or worse, “Doctor” even when they do not have earned doctorate degrees. And a couple of local preaches refer to themselves as “Bishop,” although no one made them a bishop and their churches do not even have bishops.

As to what early Christians did, we might derive a clue from the most ancient churches in the world. These are churches in the Middle East, Greece, Asia Minor, North Africa, Armenia, Georgia, Russia and so on. In all these places, priests are called some version of “father,” as part of the honorific culture. Older men and women are also called by honorific terms: “grandfather,” “grandmother,” “old uncle” (Chinese), and so on. In Ethiopia, the priest is abouna, which is similar to abba, “Dad.” All this is carryover from ancient times, the time in which Jesus taught his disciples to pray to the Heavenly Father in more familiar and loving terms as abba, “Dad.”

A couple of more points. Not to make too much of it, but as a matter of fact, Orthodox priests are not actually “father.” They are presvyteros. I have pointed this out to lots of Baptist friends but no one ever knows what I am talking about. The term presbyter is the New Testament term used for priests. It means “elder” or more literally, “one who goes before” or “stands in the front,” i.e., intercessor. So, our own term is the biblical one, where as “Brother Epps” is not. Not only this, but as from the beginning of the Church, there are ranks of priests and teachers—rather like in the Army. I’m not actually a presvyteros but an economos (“administrator”). And anyway, unlike most of the Bible teachers I know, my doctorate was earned in a university, not an honorary title from a Bible-school. Should I be called “doctor?” No, I don’t want it.

It is a great honor to be called “father,” and I am always aware that no man deserves it. I try to be a father to my spiritual children, though, through the mercy of God. And it is also an honor to be called “brother” by a Christian or by anyone else. I’ll accept that. But the next time I go to a restaurant and am warned by some fellow I don’t know, that I am going to Hell for wearing a black suit or an Orthodox anteri (robe), I think I am going to force myself to call him “brother.”I realize, of course, that no one is really my brother who is busy condemning everyone to Hell. It is better to leave judgment to God alone, and trust in Him as our Heavenly Father. Nevertheless, I trust that God’s mercy can change even the hearts of Bible-believing Evangelical evangelists who are busy saving the Catholics, the Orthodox and everyone who does not agree with them.  I’ll just remind him to call everyone brother unless they are taking the place of God.

Atonement in Orthodoxy

Dear E,
Thanks for your questions about atonement in Orthodoxy and in evangelical thought.

The hard thing to remember is that most evangelical theories of atonement (for instance, substitutionary atonement as taught by the Scottish theologian McLeod Campbell,which is what many Baptists and Presbyterians teach) are very recent. So when you read the Bible you see it in terms of these modern ways of understanding Scripture. But if you can try to “think” yourself back in time, you can see the same Scripture verses in an entirely different way, which is the way of the ancient Church.

First, we do not teach that all people are “saved.” What we do teach is that God’s love is a consuming Fire. The “lake of fire” described in Revelation is seen by the Orthodox Church as being the Holy Spirit. It is not a created fire, but uncreated–a fire that does not consume, the fire that was burning in the bush seen by Moses. What is holy is refined, what is sinful, like straw, is burned up.

We will all experience this fire one day. All people go through the Judgment, which is to come fully into the presence of God; so to be unsaved does not mean to be eternally in the absence of God, since there is no place that is away from the presence of God (“even if I go down into Sheol, Thou art there”). But we experience God in different ways.

All human beings will be raised from physical death, but some will experience this as a resurrection to life, and some as a resurrection to Judgment. The church Fathers say that for those who are evil, the experience of the holy Fire of the Spirit of God will be “caustic” (it will burn them) while for those who desire to live in God, who have the Spirit of God, the fire will be like dew (as for the Three Young Men in the fiery furnace), and it will be the gift of life itself. But such people will already know the Holy Spirit, Who dwells in their hearts, and so the presence of God will be Paradise for them. Thus we who love God pass through the Judgment already, in this life (“judgment has already begun in the Church”), as we are refined and changed through the gift of Love in the Holy Spirit.

The idea of “substitutionary atonement” as a payment for our sins actually came from the Catholic theologian Anselm in the 11th century, and was borrowed by Calvin and later writers like Campbell. It is based on a legal idea, the idea that God’s righteousness does not allow God to accept the sinner. In this view, a payment has to be made in order to make us acceptable. Most evangelicals will say that the payment is death (God demands the death of the sinner), and Christ paid that penalty. In order for us to receive salvation, we have to repent first of our sin, and then the penalty is marked as paid on our behalf.

Notice that in this way of looking at it, a missionary has to first convince people that they are evil and deserve eternal punishment. Then he can point the way to salvation out of eternal punishment in Christ, which requires going to the “right” church and believing the right things. So really, Baptists often preach “bad news” first and then they offer “good news.” But we do not think that is the message of the Bible.

We do not say that God relates to us in a legal way, but like a Father, in love. The love never ceases or changes; it is the same for the sinner and the saint. God did not desire the punishment of Adam, but in compassion cast Adam out of paradise because God did not want Adam to carry sin in the flesh eternally. Neither did God destroy Satan, but allowed him to carry out evil (imposing pain, suffering and death on the world). And then God “redeemed” suffering and death by bringing salvation precisely through those things. This took away Satan’s power and transformed death into the way to life.

Therefore, God did not send His only Son in order to punish Him with death, but in order to take human nature into Himself. Humanity itself is condemned to die because the real consequences of sin are death (this is a reality, not a legal arrangement or punishment). We say that God cannot die; but in the flesh, God did experience death and Hades. So God joined His pure nature to our impure nature in order to cleanse our humanity and to raise us up into divine nature (II Peter 1). He is the “gift of life.” He made our mortal humanity immortal.

In the Bible, you see that ordinarily if a clean man touches what is unclean, the man becomes unclean. But in Christ it is reversed: the One who is clean touches what is unclean, and it becomes clean. That is salvation. God did this even before we repented. Salvation is already ours; we don’t repent in order for it to happen; we repent in order to receive it ourselves, to apprehend it. Faith is to receive the gift. The opposite of faith is the refuse the gift, to deny its power, to see ways to find salvation on our own, without Christ.

It is a fact of history that no early Christian theologian taught “substitutionary atonement” in the sense of making a payment because of our sins. Some, like Irenaeus, taught that Christ is the “new Adam” who has redeemed humanity, fulfilling our true nature and offering this re-created humanity to us so that we, too, might be fulfilled. We receive this through the Holy Spirit, who gives us life–the life of Christ. Others, like Athanasius, emphasized the idea of “ransom”–not that Christ paid the price for our sins but that Christ has set us free from slavery to sin and death (they emphasized the idea of liberty rather than payment in the passage, “the Son of Man came as a ransom for many”). Also, by the way, the Greek and Hebrew words for “many” mean “numberless”–not “some,” which it tends to mean today.

Now, regarding the “unsaved”: We cannot say what relationship God has with non-Christians in all of history. We can say, however, that life is in Christ and that to know Him brings true life and joy. That is why we share the Gospel. There is no “bad news” before the “good news,” just the news that the Kingdom of God has entered into a world of disappointment and death in order to fill it with life and joy. When I was in China, people asked me if their forefathers were in Hell (meaning eternal punishment) because they had never heard of Christ. The Bible does not say that, but missionaries had told them that. I told them that we cannot say where they are–perhaps some were serving the King of Hell in the 18 Hells (as Chinese see it)–although we do know that in death they met Christ. This message brought many Buddhists to Christ, while my evangelical friends were sending all the same people to Hell because they did not go to Protestant churches.

As is taught in the Scriptures (Ephesians 4, 1 Peter 3) we believe that Jesus descended into Hades (which by the way means “death,” not eternal punishment) where he preached that the Kingdom of God had come near. The Apostle says that “He led a host of captives.” We do not know what this means, except that all human beings will be raised from the dead, some of them to life and some to eternal darkness and frustration (“wailing and gnashing of teeth”).

The film you saw about atonement in Orthodoxy is about that. In Orthodox thinking it is not the will of God to send people into eternal punishment simply because they never met an evangelical preacher. Where does Holy Scripture say anything like that? But rather, it says that the Apostles preached the Good News of the Kingdom of God (that the “Kingdom of God has come near to you”), of the eternal love of God which is not sometimes wrath and sometimes love. In fact the wrath of God falls on believers who turn their backs on Him, not on those who never heard of Him. There is much to see in all of Holy Scripture about this, so we cannot answer it in a short letter. Call me, and we can talk about it more. Blessings, +Fr Brendan

obedience

“Abba Mios of Belos said, ‘Obedience responds to obedience. When someone obeys God, God obeys his request.’” (from the Sayings of the Desert Fathers)

When God answers our prayers it is not because we are holy or better than others, but because God loves us and gives to us even what we do not deserve. But God also gives what we truly desire. If we do not care to receive the gifts of the Kingdom of God, then these are not forced upon us; we receive our reward in earthly things, and these will soon pass away. But if we truly desire the Kingdom and its righteousness, then God allows us to acquire the spiritual gifts in the ways that are best for each one of us: sometimes through suffering, sometimes through abuse, sometimes through disappointment, and sometimes through unexpected blessings. When we are ready to complain, it is good to ask ourselves first whether we are truly obedient to God, and are ready to accept from His hand whatever gifts are given to us. +Fr Brendan

Letters to Spiritual Children

LETTERS TO MY SPIRITUAL CHILDREN

I am a spiritual pilgrim, an Orthodox Christian pilgrim, having found a refuge in the Eastern Orthodox Church. For some years now I have been a laborer in the vineyard of the Lord, as a simple priest.

The Church is my home, but each day I leave it in the morning to labor in fields rife with weeds and filled with stones, the soil hard and unyielding for the most part, where little water is. Sometimes I find a flower or a vine which has sprung up on its own, for I in my poor inability did not plant it there; and there is some shade under a fig tree or an olive which is God’s planting also, from long before my time. I labor as my bishop has directed me to do, not well but out of obedience, with the prayer that somehow beneath the hot sun there will someday be fruit, for which the owner of the vineyard will be pleased.

The letters posted here were written to some of my spiritual children. For myself, it does not seem possible that I should have spiritual children of my own, for in my heart I am little more than a child myself, still trying to find my way and struggling each day. But my own spiritual father fell asleep in the Lord not many weeks ago at the age of 93, leaving me an orphan and almost without consolation, although he taught his students not to mourn his passing. I myself am growing old, and as my body wears out I weep, not at the prospect of leaving this life but because I cannot yet walk where others have run, and I long to join them. If God grants time, perhaps I will yet see fruit on the struggling vines entrusted to my care.

And perhaps these letters will grant some encouragement to others apart from those to whom they were addressed, as I found encouragement in the words of many who went before me. Those to whom these letters were originally addressed will recognize themselves, should they stumble across them again in print, but they will not be known to the readers, as I have changed their names; and just as instructions given to me are the more valuable when they were written down, so it may be good for the original children to read them over again from time to time.

In the future, God-willing, on this site we will post other things, words of consolation and answers to some of the questions that pepper me, like other priests, every day. May they be of some value to you, the reader, as I ask your prayers for me, the unworthy priest, +fr Brendan

Dear Susan,

Christ is in our midst!

It was good to hear from you by telephone the other day. Our conversation wasn’t very long, but I know that you are shy.  In the months I have known you, Susan, you have told me a little about your life. Now you feel ashamed, so you do not come to Divine Liturgy any longer as you should. I am writing to you in the hope that eventually you will awake from spiritual sleep and find new life in the love and joy that God wants for you.

Your life is complicated by many things that are wrong and hurtful. You know that, so there is no point pretending that your life is better than it is. You say you are living in a soap opera, but the characters are quite real and the pain you have suffered does not go away at the push of a button. That pain is evidence of what the Church calls sin.

When your brother died, you said that he had cancer. I knew that he was gay and had AIDS, but you kept up the masquerade for the sake of your family. Your mother could not have lived with the idea very well, and at that time you were not speaking to her or your sisters. I am glad that he was able to get Hospice care and that he died peacefully at home. I am also glad that through that ordeal, your bad relationship with your mother and sisters improved.

Your personal life did not improve, though, because you continued to live with Bill. Susan, I knew that you were married before and that Bill was not really your husband. How did I know these things? The Lord reveals everything, or at least enough, to those who pray, and you were entrusted to my miserable care. Soon these things became clear.

You had gotten pregnant so you moved in with Bill. I also knew that he was beating you and that he drank. Do you remember when we talked about alcoholism? But on that day, you did not want to admit that he is alcoholic. You hid it even from yourself. You did not want to lose Bill because you desperately wanted the security of a family.

Then you lost him anyway. It is fortunate that you did not lose your life first, or your beauty (may I say that?) or more of your belongings. I am glad that you were able to move back to your mother’s house and to find work. Now you want to get your life in order–to go back to school, to get to know your babies and to make friends. More than anything, you want to have a relationship with God again, but you are afraid to come to church because you believe that everyone will condemn you. In fact you believe that God has condemned you already by allowing all these things to happen to you.

Susan, do you remember what happened to Eve in the garden, after she became aware of her own sin? God called to Adam and Eve, but they hid themselves. God did not reject them, but they hid from God’s presence because they knew they were wrong. You feel naked too, thinking that you are not wanted in God’s house. The truth is very different.

God wants you in his house very much. He sent his Son to wash you clean of every kind of sin, with his own blood. Still, you want to know why God allowed your life to go the way it did. Could it be because you made the choices that hurt so badly? You chose to hate your mother, to envy your sisters, to smother your brother, to live with your first husband in defiance of your parents. Bill was very wrong–he will have to answer for his own life–but you “protected” him when he was killing himself and you by his behavior. You even chose not to accept your father’s death, but to blame God for it and to feel sorry for yourself.

Now I want to invite you into the sunlight of another kind of life. Imagine that you came into God’s house to worship him, with no expectations on God’s part. Imagine that you received his love, and you allowed him to love you. Imagine that you let brothers and sisters (who have all suffered as you have) pray with you. Imagine that you prayed for Bill, and for your children, and your father and mother, your sisters, even your first husband–without any bitterness, but with acceptance and love, asking for their well-being in the peace of Christ.

Most of all imagine, Susan, that you are shining with the light of Christ, with joy and peace and love. I just wanted you to know that that is how I see you, because that is how God sees you. That is your future. I hope that it is soon. Will you call me again?

Dear Mary,

Christ is in our midst!

Beloved child, you have no idea how beautiful you are and how much God loves you and I love you. When I see you, my face lights up and I am overjoyed. But my joy turns to sorrow when I see your struggles. You are troubled by so many things in the world. You bite your fingernails and wrinkle your forehead. And, like your own father, I long to ask you, Why do you disfigure yourself with tattoos, especially where no human being other than your own husband should see you? Do you not know that God made you perfectly and that it is God’s pleasure to see you?

You are weighed down by guilt. Often you interrupt conversation to say, “I’m sorry,” when you need not be sorry for anything. This is the result of wrong religion. Somehow you have believed that much of your life was worth little, that you must apologize for everything that happens. If only you could lay down this heavy load! And then you would stand tall, and know the freedom which only Christ can give, in the precious gift of His Holy Spirit.

Right now, you do not like to hear about Christ. When I asked if I could anoint you for healing, when you were losing your baby, you declined. You said it would make you uncomfortable. Do you see why? You do not know how to receive love, because in the past you have been hurt, and you do not trust. I do not blame you for this; only I want to coax you into the sunlight from your dark corner, so that you can love and be loved.

And now God has granted you two beautiful children. Many years ago, you lost a child. You never told me about it, but I knew. When you are able to confess this you will find a new freedom that right now you cannot even imagine. And so, with tears, I am writing to you and asking you to return. Look up at the blue sky and give thanks for it, and that you can see it; look down at the green earth and rejoice. Look at your children and utter a prayer of thanksgiving. What? You do not pray? But you do, my beloved one; you are praying constantly but you do not admit it. Right now, your prayers are cries of desperation. Let them turn into songs of praise. Give thanks, and you will be filled with new joy.

I look forward to seeing you when you have time. Greet your husband for me, even if he does not like churches and priests, for God has given me a great love for him.

A Sermon by Melito of Sardis

When the apostles and their followers preached the Gospel of Jesus Christ to all the known world, what did they say? We know what they did not do: they did not give altar-calls as we know them; they did not condemn their listeners; they did not fight religious wars or preach about themselves. We can gather what they said from brief sermons recorded in the Acts of the Apostles and, for example, in II Peter. But we can also read their sermons as recorded by very early Christians.

Melito of Sardis, a 2nd-century preacher, gives us this from a sermon on the Resurrection of Christ:

“The Lord clothed Himself with humanity,
and with suffering on behalf of the suffering one,
and bound on behalf of the one constrained,
and judged on behalf of the one convicted,
and buried on behalf of the one entombed,
rose from the dead and cried out aloud:

‘Who takes issue with me? Let him come and stand before me.
I set free the condemned.
I gave life to the dead.
I raise up the entombed.
Who will contradict me?’
‘It is I,’ says the Christ,
‘I am He who destroys death
and triumphs over the enemy,
and crushes Hades
and binds the strong man,
and bears humanity off to the heavenly heights’
‘It is I,’ says the Christ.
‘So come all families of people,
adulterated with sin,
and receive forgiveness of sins.
For I am your freedom.
I am the Passover of salvation.
I am the lamb slaughtered for you.
I am your ransom.
I am your life.
I am your light.
I am your salvation
I am your resurrection.
I am your King.
I shall raise you up by my right hand,
I will lead you to the heights of heaven,
There shall I show you the everlasting Father.’”
–from the translation by Alistair Stewart-Sykes

God is for all

“God is the life of all free beings. He is the salvation of all, of believers and unbelievers, of the just and the unjust, of the pious or the impious, of those freed from passions or those caught up in them, of monks or those living in the world, of the educated or the illiterate, of the healthy or the sick, of the young or the very old. He is like the outpouring of light, the glimpse of the sun, or the changes of the weather which are the same for everyone without exception.”

“Abba Pambo said, ‘If you have a heart, you can be saved.’” [from Daily Readings with the Desert Fathers edited by Sr. Benedicta Ward]