The True Order

“The icon… heralds the restoration to creation of its true order.” – Anestis Keselopoulos, Man and the Environment

Beyond Description

“For Thou being God uncircumscribed, without beginning and beyond speech…” – from the Blessing of Water for Holy Baptism

Allow yourself to be Harmed

“Let yourself be persecuted but do not persecute others; be crucified but do not crucify others; be insulted but do not insult others; be slandered but do not slander others. Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep. Such is the sign of purity. Suffer with the sick. Be afflicted with sinners. Exult with those who repent. Be the friend of all. But in your spirit remain alone….Spread your cloak over anyone who falls into sin and shield him. And if you cannot take his fault on yourself and accept punishment in his place, do not destroy his character.” — St. Isaac of Syria

When Insults Annoy You

Amma Dionysia gave alms to a beggar, but less than he wanted. The beggar began to speak harshly to her, and Dionysia took offense, wanting to strike back. Abba Zosimas corrected her, saying, “You are striking against yourself. You are chasing every virtue from your soul. Can you endure what Christ endured? My lady, I know that you have given away your possessions as though they had no value. But until you become meek, you are like a metal smith pounding a bar of iron and failing to produce a useful object. You will know you have become meek when insults no longer annoy you.” – Sayings of the Desert Fathers

A friend shared with me “Super Correctness” (Chapter 63 from Father Seraphim Rose: His Life and Works). Happily, this piece is also available [online]. Now if I could just find chapter 61 “The Desert in the Backyard”.

I am Not Alone

Have you ever realized that you have received miraculous wealth? An amazingly complex chain of seemingly impossible events has begun to give you your heart’s desire, has saved you, had continually protected, guided, and enlightened you, the way you would do for your own family? And that this is incontrovertably due to Christ’s mercy, to the prayers of his most pure Mother, and the prayers of the Saints on your behalf – and that they have heard you, witnessed you, watched you, and answered you? There is no other possible reaction than to bow low, to kneel, to press down your head in aching gratitude. It is to finally realize that you are loved, that you are not alone, that you have a family, and that, while the world really is out to destroy you, you have a strong defender and protector, just as your own family has in you. And the rest, the rest that can be said, is in private, for the ears of Christ and the Saints. So I have nothing more to say about this right now.

Anonymity & Christian Tradition

I love the anonymity the web provides. And sometimes I confess a perverse sort of pleasure in how some of the most abusive and presumptuous critics are discomfitted by it and scream for more controls, more exposure, less privacy, etc. All in the name of an honesty and accountability they don’t actually model except in quickly offering up their ‘papers’ to anyone who asks – which is more a lazyness and surrender of soul than anything truly decent and honest.

In the religious realm, especially: One has to dismiss the rantings of people who never met an ad hominem they didn’t like – people who’ve never heard of an ad hominem in the first place. People who care not about truth but credentials. People who don’t like dissent, don’t like questions or speculation they can’t attribute to an authority figure, people who want to carry books with the rules spelled out and the authors’ names next to the rules. It’s part of the fundamentalist impulse.

Truly, there are only two reasons that the identity of the author matters:

One reason is so you can accept or dismiss the ideas based on the identity. It’s dishonest, it’s a logical fallacy, and it’s a form of worshipping heroes on the one hand (idolatry) and dismissing those we don’t like or strangers on the other (pride and inhospitality). It is to follow persons, not the truth. The assumption is that the ‘right’ people are usually correct, and the ‘wrong’ people usually aren’t. But it has always been the case that good people with good credentials have offered up swill in place of truth – and our very tradition depends upon the words and deeds of the ‘wrong’ people. Uneducated people, tax collectors, Samaritans, women, and Gentiles. Speaking of the “right” people:

“If I, Paul, or an Angel, or anyone comes to you claiming to be Christ, and preaches any other gospel than the one you have received…”

The other reason is so that those who express ideas we don’t like can be punished for them. I’ve been called a “coward” by people who were angry with my ideas. Such claims imply that there’s actually something to be afraid of, and that the person making the claim actually has it in mind. In other words, he’s validating the reason he wants the information – to punish the offender. Why not just come out and say, “If I find out who you are, I’ll do x to you.” The critic relies on dishonesty, chiding the anonymous writer for being afraid, but withholding acknowledgement on what presumably fearful thing he has in mind.

“The owner of the vineyard sent servants to the keepers of the vineyard, to speak to them, but they did not listen and killed them instead.”

I’ve seen priests act like this. I’ve seen people talk of virtue and honesty and dignity and then act like this. Truly it is said, “there will come a time when your own brethren will deliver you up, and think they do a service to God.”

On the one hand, the zealots will persecute others in the name of Christ, always seeking justification in the fact that it’s “those people” – it’s not the correct people – it’s not us. To any such “correct” people reading this, I am with all the incorrect people. I am with the wrong people who are dangerous and a threat to the world you want to create. I am with the people who are making it worse. Do to me what you would do to them. But don’t expect me to hand my head to you on a platter.

On the other hand, the effeminate weaklings who follow names and approved leaders are just as bad. Those who cannot listen to anything without checking the speaker’s credentials – “he’s part of the such and such school” – “he’s one of so and so’s disciples” – “he used to be one of those people”. For these wishy washy relativists, an idea is not actually true in itself – truth is a subjective thing that depends on who says it. They have committed the fundamental theological and anthropological heresy and fallacy of conflating subject and object, person with operation, who I am with what I do. In the tortured confusion of their own minds, they cannot but be led about by whoever is holding up the golden calf as easily as whoever is wearing the mitre.

Personally, I like to point out to those who lecture the anonymous about responsibility and integrity (usually the mouthiest are US citizens – always lecturing the world on how they should live), that their own political, social, and cultural traditions are rife with elegant anonymity – indeed depend on it entirely. From Publius to Samuel Clemens. Of course it’s not necessary to cite religious examples, as these are more interested in asserting their own culture than in following Christ. Christ for them is the Christ of culture. He is not the Christ who could have said:

“Tell no one who I am.”

To those who talk about where they stand religiously, and cite nebulous principles that they interpret against the moral status of the anonymous, I like to mention the many anonymous saints who left anonymous works, did anonymous deeds, and wrote ikons anonymously, and toiled and gave and lived anonymously. If they look closely, they will find some of them in their scriptures. Indeed, the books of scripture are quite often written anonymously. In fact, the entire monastic tradition is like this – the monks give up their family names when they receive orders. It is so obvious that, failing to take stock of the fundamental liberty within their own tradition, the advocates of exposure want dossiers and ID checks and tracking systems and all the apparatus of the worship of the modern state. They have sold their birthright for the pottage of contemporary personalism and tacit depersonalization. For them, persons and ideas have become inseparable. They would make good officers of the state.

“Welcome strangers, for some have entertained angels unawares.”

In any case, originally this site was anonymous by default, because I never saw a reason to add my name. When I found people making such a big deal about it, and listened to them, and looked at my suffering brethren and how others are wrongfully persecuted or simply dismissed, I decided out of solidarity to refuse to add my name. And when I took stock of how the clamour for putting not ideas in the dock but personalities is a clamour for crucifixion, a clamour for illicit trial, I found that I would not add my voice to those who cried out:

“Tell us plainly who you are. Who do you say that you are?”

Instead, I decided to let them squirm, and do with their ignorance what they like, since they do so very little good with what they know.

“Then neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.”

If you don’t like my ideas, don’t read them. But you don’t own them, visitor. Nor do you own me. Nor anyone else. Nor is your inconvenience at doing something fundamentally illogical at best (ad hominem) if not illicit, a claim on my activity. And if you are merely curious, then the answer to your question is that I have decided not to comment upon it. I don’t answer the merely curious.

For those of you out there who are considering writing anonymously, I encourage you to be accountable to your Confessor. Tell him about the place you write. Go to confession. Live in such a way that your life can change and is subject to ideas other than your own. And then be free. Perhaps your pride will want to put your name on everything, and anonymity will help you overcome it. Whatever you decide, some of the others of us are holding the line, and hope that makes it easier for you.

Orthodox Fast at Thanksgiving

At Thanksgiving, we’re always greeted with rationalizations, prevarication, and even abuses of Scripture to justify breaking the Fast, and right in the middle of the Fast, too, which makes about as much sense as having a dance contest in the middle of a funeral.

Last year, I spoke to this – it’s just not an Orthodox thing to do. Get permission from some lax Bishop all you want – it’s not right, and we all know it, or should.

This year, I’d like to address the question underlying it all – a question that rarely but occasionally gets articulated in any actual way: “Can I be deified without fasting?” It’s rare that we’re as candid as that, especially when our intent is to violate the fast with a feast, and dress it up in cultural capitulation, blood and soil, patriotism and imperialism, or slavery to Protestant ‘bible’ hermeneutics. It is a Protestant and American holiday after all. In other countries, the Orthodox diaspora have their own national festivals to ignore. But it does get asked, on occasion, much to the chagrin of those who now have to dredge up references to “it’s better to love…” or “fasting without compassion is…”. Yeah, we know all that. And the implication of all of those statements is that it’s not one or the other, but both. The moment you claim it’s one or the other, you’re reading and talking like a Protestant, not an Orthodox. We dont’ do “either/or” – we do “both/and”. Let’s answer the question:

question: “Can I be deified without fasting?”
answer: Why would you be?

I mean, after all, it’s not like you’re being burned at the stake right now, and there’s no time to fast. It’s not like you’re starving to death and the great question is whether to eat a fish or not. You live in a Willy Wonka land of ubiquitous food. The lion’s share of all commercial entities surrounding you have some connection with processing, selling, delivering, or preparing food. A certain percentage of your neighbors are actually off giving food away. Nothing gets so much attention to the local panhandlers as a cardboard sign, “will work for food”. The nation is a temple to food. Gorging is the national pasttime. Even at other passtimes, they’re just not the same without food – sports and hotdogs, movies and popcorn, cubicles and office candy. For the religious, the Sunday buffet. For the non-religious, the Sunday brunch. If the population of the US were livestock, it would all make sense – the engine of the economy is largely driven by cramming as much feed into each individual as humanly possible. Yuppy fashion revolves around tasting the latest – steel cut, hand-rolled, fire-roasted, whatever – bad food dressed in the language of delicate exclusivity. More food is consumed in the US than in the rest of the world combined. There are whole groups of people who live off the food that’s thrown away, the piles of extra crackers, baskets of bread, garnishes and day-old donuts. And you ask, “Can I be saved without fasting?” Why would you be. You’d be just like everyone else. You’d be just going along on the great cultural mud-slide of consumption. Your concern is less salvation than salivation. Deification would be an afterthought – something to play at, philosophically, after your belly were full.

So, I think the clear answer is “No. You can’t be deified without fasting.” And even if someone could, that someone would not be you. In fact, in the context of cultural, there’s nothing so characteristically Orthodox as keeping Fast. We’ve (in many quarters) shaved our men’s faces, bared our women’s luxuriant hair, coated ourselves with makeup and colognes, installed benches from the Protestant meeting halls, hooked up amplifiers to our mediaeval organs, and whitewashed the walls where once the saints surrounded us. We’ve added security guards, parking attendants, paid choirs and singles groups. The number of our committees exceeds the number of attendees at vigils, most of which we’ve transformed into morning Easter and Christmas services, replete with the fashion parades and “come to our church” flyers that we’ve seen the local religionists doing all these years. And for all of that ridiculous capitulation, all of that religious prostitution, all of that whoring after the gods of of the dominant culture, there is one thing left that’s a dividing line between those who believe and those who don’t. Keeping the Fast.

It’s not for nothing that St. Seraphim said, “He who does not fast does not really believe in God, whatever else he may pretend.”

Can I be deified without fasting? There is no deification without the transformation of the body that fasting obtains.

For those with Protestant and Roman Catholic backgrounds, or who were educated in the religious environment in the US culture in general, it seems obvious that salvation is an internal thing, is salvation of the mind, or of the soul. At best, the body, in this attittude, is unimportant.

But this is heresy to the Orthodox. We *are* our bodies. Our bodies *are* us. And there is no salvation apart from deification of the body. And no deification, therefore, apart from the ascetic undertaking of the body. All of the fathers speak of all ordinary Orthodox people transforming the body through ascetic feats. To deny this, or sweep it under the rug, is to deny Orthodoxy itself and, if you’re doing that, why are you concerned about deification in the first place. Have your idols, and ask no further questions. But to even speak of deification, which is what all Orthodox tongues mean by “salvation”, we are talking of what our fathers have experienced, what the Saints have experienced, what Christ himself underwent for our sake, and what the Church has continually said we must undergo with him – the very crucifixion of our bodies, of which fasting is a preparation, a type, and a means.

And lest we wrap our idols with the purple of “thanksgiving”, there is no thanksgiving without mourning, no feasting without fasting, and no proper execution of either apart from the life of Christ, the life of the Church, her calendar, her history, and her movement. All such thanksgiving is a false thanksgiving, and is not honored by God. Sure, the heterodox may in ignorance of the truth achieve salvation before I do, and their many prayers offered incorrectly may be heard while mine are ignored, but we who are Orthodox have no excuse for throwing off what we have received as if to return to ignorance, when we have been enlightened. It is like the man who, as Kahlil Gibran describes, cultivates a limp, so that others may excuse him from work. If we cultivate pretense in order to excuse us from the Fast, how we can claim that thansgiving draws us to the feast?

The feast belongs to those who have fasted. Those who have not, don’t know what a feast is. There is no distinction in their minds. As St. Paul said of those who all speak and make sounds at once, or who babble prayers of gibberish, there is no way to experience prayer for them, because they can’t distinguish one thing from another. So it is with those who “feast” only and do not fast – they don’t really ever feast, either. They can’t know the significance of one activity from another, and therefore all activity is inaccessible to them. Lethargy of body results in lethargy of soul, and the dimming of both.

Our thanksgiving is not of one kind. Now is the time of preparation for the glorious Incarnation of God. Now we are in darkness. Now we are at the end of the history of man. Now we are on the verge of destruction. Now we are lean and the spirit which was given to us has gone out of us, and we are on our last leg in the world. But at such a moment, at such a dry time, at such a lean and hungry time, the God is about to be born and our hope not only renewed but the salvation of God, the deification from on high, to be among us.

At such a time, while we take stock of where our sins have brought us, what Death has done to us, and how without God we are, how we have run after so many idols, have ignored God’s commands, have broken his laws, have disdained his saints and prophets, is now the time that we become gluttons again and proclaim it a holiday? Those who are sensitive at all to what we are doing, as Orthodox, cannot do so. Now is the lean time, the Nativity Fast, the Little Lent, and we shun celebrations and cover ourselves with the ashes of sorrow, until the bright day when God comes to save us.

How will we know that day, if it is like any other day, even if it comes among us? If we’ve already been celebrating and feasting, how will we know any distinction when God is born? You see, we blather on about how Christmas starts earlier and earlier, and yet we have broken the Fast and started too early. We mumble about how Christmas has lost its meaning, and yet we have taken its meaning away in our own awareness, because we were acting as if any given day is a celebration. When Christmas arrives, therefore, are you and I really having Christmas at all? Is the Incarnation really real for us, when we haven’t felt the need for it? When we haven’t known any sorrow, is there any significance in joy? When we haven’t felt our lack, is there any meaning to fullness?

The Orthodox are fasting. We don’t expect the heterodox to do it. We don’t expect the nationalists to do it. We don’t expect the atheists to do it. And they will all be saved before I might – that’s the Orthodox attitude. But precisely because that’s our attitude, we do not stand distant from our own means of salvation – the Fast, the Church, the calendar, the life of Christ we live through every year. We don’t fill our bellies with the attitude that such things don’t matter. At that point, we cease to be asking Orthodox questions at all, and nothing we think or say about the Faith matters. We have ceased to affirm our own existence as bodily creatures and, in the court of logic, we’ve therefore removed the ground of our own assertions. To deny we exist is to deny that we have any thoughts at all, or anything to say. Therefore, listen: be Orthodox. Keep the Fast. Hold the line. Stand strong. It is not so great a thing to not be a weakling. It is only our normal lives, our confession of Faith. It is the love of Christ’s body. It is to say the same thing we say when we stand and say the Creed. For the one who doesn’t fast, all Creeds are gibberish, and Christ’s body and our salvation is inaccessible.

On Friends Parting Ways

I’ve noticed that most of the people around me don’t have friendships that end. In fact, they seem to think it strange that someone might. Sometimes they say, “that doesn’t happen to me.” But I listen to them, and I observe that in fact relationships do sort of stop happening for them – they just seem to dwindle to an occasional phone call, a carbon copied joke in e-mail, and then silence.

In fact, what I see is in some sense they’re both correct and incorrect. They’re correct, because of the meaning of those two words – friendship and end.

It’s fair to say their friendships don’t end, because they simply resort to inactivity, and ending is an action. Somehow, this is thought to be better. If they see the person, they exchange the “what are you doing now?” which is very similar to the small talk they made when they first met and the “let’s get together some time”, which they don’t actually mean to do. But, somehow, they’ve escaped the scandal, the shame, or the reality of it ending. They’ve substituted for that an unreality of simple inaction and a preserved fiction that I’m still “cool with” that person.

Likewise, it’s fair to say their friendships don’t end, because the meaning of ‘friend’ is so fluid for them, that at any given moment of thought, someone might be or might not be considered a friend. I notice, too, this goes with a level of patronization that keeps either party from really telling the other what he’s thinking. There are rules about how honest you can be. In other words, the ‘friendship’ or ‘non-friendship’ seems to depend on distance rather than closeness. I notice they don’t have non-friends, though – they have people they “know” but don’t usually ever say “he and I aren’t friends” – it’s considered impolite and absolute and drastic. In other words, friendship seems to be a moving target, a social fiction, and a matter of epistemological boundaries. In fact, if you reach across the boundary, and suggest that it’s about all the opposites of those things, you’re seen as seeking a “lover”, a “gay relationship”, or some bizarre form of family or religious bond.

Friendship doesn’t end with the people I see, because they don’t really end relationships, and they aren’t sure what we mean when say friendship in any categorical or definitive way.

My friendships do end. Either I end them, or the other person does. As drastic and extreme, as socially ill-adapted as that will make me seem to the people around me, I actually like that it happens. Not the pain involved, of course. But I’m not all about avoiding pain. People die, people go away, people become someone else. It’s part of living in history. I like it because it comes from being involved in friendship so much, from being involved with the persons involved. It comes from all the things the people around me say “don’t happen to” them. It comes from a mutual search for truth, a mutual attempt at progress, a mutual affinity for penetrating social barriers and finding the scalding naked person underneath and from remaining staunchly loyal to what we each love in the other person. Hell, it comes from loving the other person.

That’s the other thing: people seem just as appalled by the reasons that friendships end. It may be becaused of irreconcilable ideologies, or incompatible assumptions about the world or about relationships, or conflicting goals. People around me seem to assume these are always a bad thing. Or at least a shameful thing to admit in polite company. I don’t think that way. I may be trying to disarm the world, and my friend to arm it, and we realize we just can’t be together. I may be trying to uplift the poor, and my friend to protect the rich. I may be trying to find the meaning in life, and my friend actively working for a nihilist worldview – a world where meaning is out of fashion. Not that my friend is always the bad guy, if we differ. It may be that I have a violent temper, and he’s a peacemaker. Or it may be less clearly moral – it may be that I like to challenge people, and he likes to comfort them, and we can’t seem to each be active at the same time, and we each need to be.

Sometimes, it’s just lethargy vs. action. Perhaps I’m insisting on changing the world, making war on the world, searching for (and actually finding) the truth, and perhaps my friend just wants to “hang out” and finds all that activity to be a distraction, a burden by proxy, or actually “wrong”. We may not judge one another, but we may find that, except for a few laughs over a few things, we’re actually incompatible.

Either way, for reasons like this, and for other reasons, I find, in my experience, that friendships end. Deep, meaningful friendships the moreso. In fact, the kind that cross from a mere acquaintance into what I would call friendship seem almost guaranteed to have a lifespan, and so I now have begun preparing for them to end, the same way I prepare for the people I love to die one day. It’s much like a death. Seven swans and they all, one by one, fly away.

Sometimes it is more drastic, like a betrayal. This can happen, really, only when deep trust has developed. You see the conundrum. People who don’t develop deep, trusting relationships – what I’d call friendships – don’t have friendships that end. People who prefer social fictions to true endings, let even those relationships wither rather than end. I prefer a clean cut.

I know people who, to avoid this, remain entirely within themselves. They don’t trust. They don’t connect in any substantive way. And of course it goes back to the old adage… “to have loved and lost”. I think it’s worth it. Not worth “the risk” – I’ve given up thinking of it as a risk, and committed to thinking of it as a certainty – again, like death.

Invariably, when you say things like these, someone asks, “Yeah, but is it Christian?” So often, in our culture, religion is thought to be about some hypothetical “ought” rather than an ongoing and involved “is”. I don’t know about that. I tend to be suspicious of religious philosophy – it hasn’t done much but lop off heads and burn people at the stake. When I look at our monastics, they do neither – they deal with the smelly feet of the reality of the world, so to speak. They deal with the leprosy of life. They acknowledge Death.

That’s it, you know. To not allow for friendships that end is to try to deny the reality of Death, and to live in a hypothetical ought that is too pure even for the Son of God. But to live with Death, to acknowledge it and live anyway – not to ‘give in’ to it, but to work to overcome it from within – that’s Christian, in my view. That means loving enough that you always lose something. It’s not only always worth it; it’s necessary for our salvation, I think.

To my friend, who you and I have parted ways, pray for me so that I can be saved by your prayers. And forgive me my frailties and failings. They are more than you ever knew. I’m happy that we each cared enough about something that we didn’t just “hang around”. Go with God.

Why meat, wine, and oil?

This weekend I was asked why we fast from meat, fish, eggs, dairy, alcohol, and oil. The person wanted a neat explanation. There isn’t one.

My own understanding will differ from some and we Orthodox are OK with that. We’re not OK with not keeping the rule, but we’re OK with different understandings of why the rule might be in place, especially since there is more than one reason we fast [I already talked about that in another post].

As I see it, we fast from those things which are traditionally or ceremonially regarded as feast foods. By definition and practice, a fast is not a feast, and vice versa. After all, we don’t only fast from foods, but from parties, from spectacles and shows, etc. Whatever event it may be, the death of Our Lord, the darkness of the world and preparation for His Incarnation, his temptation in the wilderness, and ours, the answer can be simple: Our Lord is in such a condition; shall we be celebrating, or covering our heads with sackcloth and ashes, and keeping vigil? For us, there is no union with God, apart from sorrow, grief, dryness. The notion of only happy times, of continual gratification, is foreign to Orthodoxy. We don’t consider it Christian at all, but fundamentally pagan and anti-Christian. God is a burning fire. We have always known it, and said it, and meant it, and we have always fasted, since the first man in the Garden.

Fasting and feasting alternate along a timeline – they are inherently time based, historical activities. And we are a people of holy history, and that is another key point. In becoming Orthodox, one steps into the line of that history, with continuity, not with opposition or resistance. We are always either fasting or feasting, because we are the people of God, created by Him and redeemed by Him, and always following His life, and our calendar, through the Incarnation. We are a people of the calendar, a people of time, a people of history, because we are people of the Incarnation, of the Timeless entering Time, of God becoming man, and living a historical life among us, eating with us, fasting with us, and teaching us to live accordingly.

First, meat. Meat is traditionally a feast food. You’ve heard the phrase “to kill the fatted calf”. Meat, milk, cheese, eggs, among the Orthodox are a way of celebration.  Keep in mind that we are always feasting and fasting, have always been, since time immemorial – since the beginning. People forget, when they ask these questions, that we are not a Protestant religion, that began at a certain time among men, which is based on some particular philosophical stance. We are the religion of the first man, since God made him according to that religion, and we are in accord with our history. Ours is not a belief system, but an asceticism. Ours is not a religious philosophy, but an orthopraxis. The supremacy of doctrine over activity is a late, Western mediaeval, heterodox notion that has nothing to do with us. We reject it – it is heresy. In fact, we have always feasted and fasted since before there were any written doctrines, before there were any scriptures, before there were books, before anyone tried to explain anything. If anything, our way, our tradition, our history is the important thing, and any discussion afterward must be in accordance with it, since it came after. History dictates that, as an inviolable law – that there is a before and an after – an order built into our very condition and context and Orthodox people, as indeed all people are rightly designed to be Orthodox, and were from the beginning, from Adam.

So meat… – we did not try to transform that into a philosophical explanation. When it was necessary to clarify, we clarified, but we are not religionists constructing a positive religious philosophy. As Vladimir Lossky points out, we make statements when they are necessary to protect the faithful, to preserve for them the possibility of salvation. The statements are not “here is how we have built this philosophical construct” but “this is what we say, and this is what we do” – “this is our orthopraxy”. We have always treated meat as something especially regarded for feasting. So when we fast, it is quite normal for us to regard it as inappropriate. As evidence that we were not building a philosophy of meat, we did not regard shellfish the same way. Crabs and mussels and clams were ubiquitous – you picked them up off the ground like leaves. You don’t see this today, because of overfishing, ecological alteration, and climate change. But shellfish was never regarded as a special food, a feast food, because it was as common as grass, and so inappropriate to a feast. It would be a Protestant in the US having ramen noodles at Thanksgiving. The Orthodox always knew how to use food to celebrate. And because we always did, we always knew, almost automatically, what was inappropriate for a feast. Remember, we are either fasting or feasting at all times.

What about oil and wine? (by which we mean alcohol, though in some places, where beer is a ubiquitous part of daily life, served at ever meal, that has been accepted, within normal moderation – though going out drinking is still ridiculously inappropriate as the activity of a fast, just as a party is). Oil has always been a special food. We have always spoken of it among ourselves (listen to the Scriptures being read in our Churches) as special, as significant, as rich, as reserved, as often holy. We annoint with it, ceremonially was our faces with it or cover our heads in it. It is understood, like meat, to be the fat of the land, a richness, a feast food. The same is true of wine. The examples are everywhere, and the reasons obvious. Christ, after all, fasted from wine. If being Christian means anything at all, according to the minimum definition thrown about in the wide open culture, it at least contains the idea of imitating Christ. Again, as an illustration that we did not make a philosophy of wine or of oil: some Orthodox fast from all oil, because they piously see it as the same thing, and some fast only from olive oil (that at least is forbidden during fasts), but find corn oil acceptable, because corn oil where they live is as common as dung, and included in every meal, since they can remember. In South Korea, where Orthodoxy has existed for 100 years, the Metropolitan has given a general economia for sesame oil (it is to Koreans what corn oil is to people in the US). Again, in some Germanic Orthodox churches, beer (as a daily dinner food) is acceptable.

Neither those who would point fingers and say, “you’re in violation – you’re using canola oil!” nor those who would say, “ah, who cares about oil anymore when chocolate and coffee are the happy foods of our time – we should ban those!” are allowed to rule us in this. The Church has been gentle, though in gluttony it is easy to see the fast as extreme. But that is to have already stepped outside the Faith to occupy some presumably automonous plateau of evaluation, and is heretical in principle. We have always fasted with gravity, with somberness, with seriousness, with sorrow, with work, with effort – there is absolutely nothing there that was decided by philosophical principle and simply ‘implemented’. This is how Orthodox people behave.

We have not become like the heterodox, who make personal inclination or attitude the beginning place – and choose what to “give up” for a fast – that is to miss the point – the fast changes your personal inclinations and attitudes, not the other way around. One might as well decide to drape oneself with robes, if one is so inclined, and proclaim onself a bishop. Indeed, some heterodox do. This is all of one piece.

Certainly, if pious people wish to fast from chocolate and coffee, along with what the Church requires, there is nothing wrong with that. There is something deeply heterodox about substituting that decision for what the Church requires. And even the decision to add to it may only be made, in Orthodox praxis, with the Church, in consultation with one’s father confessor. The moment it becomes disconnected from the life and mysteries of the Church, the good thing is now a heterodox thing, and becomes bad. It was not for Adam to decide, on his own, from which fruit to abstain in the Garden. As it was with our father, so it is with us, his children.

Certainly, if pious people understand the prohibition on oil to mean all oil, a dry fast (there is great tradition behind that), let them keep it, if that is how their bishop and their father confessor roll. If they eat corn oil, and that does not conflict in their understanding, with the prohibition on oil, or with the advice of their father confessor and bishop, then who can judge otherwise for them? To do so, is to oppose the Church. God forbid.

As [looking up priest’s name] has said, I feel it’s all right to have non-dairy creamer in my coffee, and to have coffee, but I’m not comfortable with vegan bacon. Still, personally, I’ll eat a Boca Burger during the fast. It’s basically our falafel. There are areas here where one cannot make absolute statements on an item by item basis, and one cannot create a general philosophy that explains external reasons for what we fast from – reasons external to our history and tradition.

We have fixed the basic requirement, when clarification became necessary, at meat, fish, dairy, eggs, oil, and wine – just as the Apostle St. Peter had fixed the minimum for avoiding “pagan food” at rejecting at least the drinking of blood and eating strangled things. Our way in this is not a philosophy, nor because it is tradition is it optional in the way the heterodox speak of tradition (“well, it’s tradition, but we don’t keep it”). Phooey on that; it’s just a lie. An Orthodox person who says this has told you a lie, whether he realizes it, or has simply believed the lie himself and is repeating it like a monkey repeats an action it sees. We are not monkeys. In essence, I can just as easily say that there is no “why” for this food vs. that food. We fast – this is what fasting is and has always been – we kept the tradition w/o words until the words were needed, and then we kept the tradition with words, and because the words changed little, the tradition changed less after the words. When you ask for “why”,  you are hypothesizing a different kind of “religion” than that. You are asking that we give it a Western mediaeval philosophical pedigree. This we cannot, need not, should not do.

Personally, I think that there are more than one reason for the same thing. It’s not the Orthodox way to say that one word has only one meaning, nor that there is one law to all truths, one premise to all realities. Reality is not based on premises – reality is reality – reality yields premises, and many of them. The West has it backwards. They try to divide 2 by 6 to get 3.

Among the effects then, if not reasons, I think it’s a true statement, as the monks have discussed, that the rich foods tend to inspire the passions, most especially blood-filled meats do. This isn’t hard to fathom on a practical level when you consider that the US consumes the bulk of the world’s meat, and is also the most violent and warlike civilization in history. Sorry if you don’t like that, but it is the only people to have utilized a nuclear weapon on another civilization. On civilians populations. Intentionally. Twice. The cultural obsession with meat in the United States, in my view, is no coincidence.

I also think that fasting from meat is an abstinence from death, a sign of paradise that was and paradise that is to come. The lion will lie down with the lamb and a little boy will lead them. There will be no more suffering, no more tears, no more death. Yes, you’ll all be non-meat-eaters in Heaven. Even Protestants would have to cook up some new ad campaign to keep their books from adding up to that truth. In fact, the monks, who eat only fish on special feasts, and no meat the rest of the time, are themselves as sign of the coming world, of paradise, and I think that’s one reason. But again, this cannot be, is not, and never has been a philosophical principle, with any absolute weight, or any precise 1:1 correlation with our practice. After all, we fast from milk, which does not require the death of the animal. Though, we fast from eggs also, and I think it’s telling that we fast from reproductive products. This has significance as well, in my view, for paradise and for our history. I simply refuse to make a philosophy of food out of it, nor does the Church teach it as a doctrine. I think it’s true, but I would only comment on the significance I see, and not offer it as an absolute rule, or the “why” of it all. Again, remember, we are not forbidden, most of us, mussels and crabs during the fast, though most of us would understand it to miss the point entirely if we went out for Alaskan King Crab and Maine Lobster during Lent. It’s not really appropriate, and we know better. Some Orthodox, quite piously see all fish, including shellfish, as included in the prohibition on fish, and that’s pious – nothing wrong with that at all.

The Church is gentle. The Church does not pronounce absolutes – cannot do so – because we are not a religious philosophy. Philosophers are the ones who make categorical statements, inviolable ones. We are alive in time and history, the Spirit with and in us, and always have been, since our first breath, and will be always now and ever unto Ages of Ages. Amen.

Praying with Hypoglycemia

First, I don’t make excuses. I’m Orthodox. I believe that my own sin is responsible for the death at work in my body, and therefore for any illness I have and its results. I am responsible. It is my fault. That is the Orthodox mind. I brought death into this world. I am Adam. I did this. All the suffering, all the pain – it’s me – I caused it. I crucified Christ.

Second, it’s a significant challenge to keep it from creating more sin and more death.

The effects are most pronounced before and especially after liturgy. I’m referring to hypoglycemia – low blood sugar. My hypoglycemia is fairly pronounced. The technical part is that I have trouble metabolizing sugar in food. I need protein to help me do so. Lacking that, I need complex carbs (they don’t break down into sugars as quickly as junk carbs) to sustain me until I can get protein. Lacking those, I burn and burn on foods and beverages containing simple sugars. The effects are that, if I don’t have sufficient protein, often enough, I become either lethargic, isolated, and depressed, or I become cranky, perhaps even explosive, impatient and offensive.

Often enough, I get my choice. From midnight Sunday morning until after liturgy is a fast. And this means that after liturgy, before I’ve had protein, or if I’m only having carbs, especially simple ones laden with sugar, I get to choose between avoiding contact with people, keeping to myself, trying to sit alone, being fairly unresponsive, seemingly antisocial, or else to engage, but with that engagement causing me enough pain that I can tend to lash out in a hostile or antisocial way. It’s a lovely choice. I’m not complaining. It’s my fault. But I do recognize the challenge.

Platitudes don’t work. It’s a chemical thing. It’s bonded to my person. It’s death. The easy answers might as well ask me not to die, and not have sinned. The easy answers are themselves signs of death, for their lack of truthfully taking stock of what death is and does and where it comes from. Yes, I know about economia. I have an economia, for dairy during fasts. Not for violating abstinence. And this is sufficient, in my opinion. Economia is not mean to free us from challenges, but to remove barriers to our salvation. Sometimes the lack of challenge is the barrier. So I’m not seeking further economia of that kind.

Living with this means being misunderstood almost all the time. And trying to explain it to someone is just as much a cross, because then the moment you say something unconventional, challenge authority, disagree with what people consider obvious, engage in dissidence, or display unusual behavior, people think (and say, often enough) “ah, well know he has problems.” People refer to the illness to explain anything they can’t otherwise explain. And now you might as well not have engaged them – you have no credibility anyway. Further engagement remains superficial, disappointing, if not demoralizing. It’s usually not worth it, to engage or to explain.

The point is that once you discuss being ill, you no longer even have the credibility to discuss being ill. So you accept alienation, as the normal course of your life. You breathe in the deep Christian tradition of alienation, the great precedents, and you buckle down and endure. You live a life enduring, letting the waves of human reaction wash over you, and strip away flesh and soul, but you go on living anyway. That’s the way you live.

You sit alone a lot, and try to keep from doing harm. You engage on occasion, but cautiously, and sometimes when you can’t disengage and need to, you invent excuses, unless someone’s standing in your face going on and on, oblivious, and then you usually just burst at some point and let the chips fall where they may.

You wait for the moment to try to get some protein in you – some soymilk, some hummus, something to calm you, soothe you, rescue you from the inferno in your soul, and from the acid bath of human contact while you endure. You hold out, hold on, pray if you have the heart, and you hope you don’t ruin yet another potential relationship. But you’re ok if you do; there was barely a chance anyway.

And most of all, you do what it takes to be Orthodox. You keep the Faith. You hold on. The end is coming. Life is a speeding car. You wait to be redeemed, and you accept suffering. You pray that God will let you live, even on the coattails of all those going before. You don’t seek advice – no one understands. You don’t seek help – there is no fixing it. You only get from one day to the next. And for God’s sake, you don’t listen to lectures from people who tell you how it’s supposed to be, how it’s all supposed to work, and what it all means. We live in a culture of little moralisms, of platitudes, of religious fortune cookie catchphrases. You withdraw – you don’t let people explain to you your place in the world. “Who sinned, this man or his parents?” Listening only makes it worse.

And if you tell anyone any of this, you do it with no intention of seeking or getting their approval, with no interest in their pity or their assessment of you, and with no hand held out for answers or for some ‘message’. If you say anything, you say it into the void. But you say it, because maybe they’ll understand more for the next person, for the one near them that they don’t understand, and they’ll make the only viable choice other than simply remaining aloof – they’ll choose to live with him, live with who he is, how he is, what he is, and how he lives.

That’s all any of us can do, really. I’m sick and I live with you. I don’t apologize, and I don’t ask you to apologize for not getting it. And likewise, if you want to help, live with me, live with the next guy, live with each other. Live with those you don’t understand, with the stranger, the outcast, the isolated, the unusual, the different, the deviant,the dissident. That’s the meaning of peace. That’s the Christian way to live on the earth. And for some of us, it’s living with the normal people, differently, but as truly as we can.

I’ve not much more to say on this. It’s a bitter choice – not whether to offend, but how to offend, by withdrawing or through engaging. It’s a ludicrous illustration of the absurdity of death and of sin. I have thanked God for my illness. I’ve thank him that he’s allowed me to see the meaning of death in this way. It has saved me. All things truly are for our salvation. God be praised. God have mercy. God heal me, through sickness if need be. Save me by any means. Only do not let me fall away into nothing, into oblivion, save my dust, and reconstitute me a man, and I will serve Thee.

The Faith of Saintly Augustine

I read a recent comment on a blog discussion about St. Augustine. We all know that St. Augustine published things that, in hindsight, have proved unfortunate in how they have been received and used by the heterodox. That, of course, says nothing about how they have been understood by the Orthodox, or were, at least until the last hundred years or so (specifically since Orthodoxy’s supposed renewed contact with the West, by which we must mean, to be factual, it’s widespread Westernization – as illustrated by the very question at hand).

The comment tells us that we have mistakenly asked the question of whether St. Augustine is a saint. The commenter certainly has that much right. How dare anyone presume against mother Church in such a way. But if that punch is pulled, what comes next is a slap as the commenter tells us that the correct question is whether St. Augustine should have been sainted in the first place. Actually, I’ve put words in the writer’s mouth – he said it’s whether St. Augustine should have been considered a saint in the first place. But since that actually makes no sense, as if there is some hypothetical place from which the Church’s activity can be evaluated externally to herself, so we are left with the implicit question which actually then must contain a heterodox approach to ‘saintness’ – namely that a saint is someone the Church ‘makes’ as saint by proxy, by mere act of authority, and that’s a heterodox view. We’ll come back to this.

The problem with the whole question of should this person be a saint or not, is first that it presumes that individuals are up to these questions, that there’s a question at all – an implied hypothetical choice (hypotheticals don’t exist), and that such questions are ultimate ahistorical – that they’re philosophical in character and can be philosophically resolved. I’m saying that they’re inherently impious questions, since they presume against the Faith we have received, they contain presuppositions, in other words, that are anti-Orthodox and heretical. The Fathers have always spoken of questions that can have no answers, since the questions themselves are improper – and have (in St. Irenaeus, for example) considered them gnostic in that, instead of having the result the answerer intends – that of resolving a supposed issue, they result in a ‘raised consiciousness’ – change of consciousness – a movement away from a mind that is Orthodox to one that is dialectical, indeed pagan by default, protestant by proxy.

The appropriate question, in direct contradistinction to the cited statement, is not whether St. Augustine should have been considered a saint, but whether in fact he is a saint and, more to the point, how it is Orthodox people determine who to venerate. If the answer is not that we consult our church’s calendar (e.g. June 15th), our ikons, our venerations, and our fathers among the Saints, then we are not Orthodox. We are not being Orthodox. The one who led me into the Faith once counseled me that there are many counterfeit communities out there, masquerading as Orthodoxy, some perhaps even within the widely accepted affiliations. He advised that mutual recognition is not adequate to determine or recognize Orthodoxy. In fact Orthodoxy is Orthodoxy – it either is or isn’t, and if you take away anything from it though it has everything else, it isn’t Orthodoxy. We don’t get to decide whether we’ll venerate the Theotokos or whether we’ll fast, or whether we’ll use these scriptures but not others. There is an Orthodox way, and there’s everything else.

And among the things to watch out for, he counseled, is communities that add their own ‘saints’ to be venerated, or most especially take away saints that are venerated. If they remove names, my mentor said, run away – they aren’t being Orthodox. And I hold to this, despite all the wise guys on the web. There’s another problem with asking these impious questions. It is Orthodox, by default, to consider all other men saints. Do we not cross ourselves whenever we pass a cemetary? And why? Because we do not know but that a Saint’s body may repose there. Do we not cross ourselves in remembrance of any of our dead? And why? Because they may be saints.

But moreso, the fathers tell us to consider all men righteous compared to ourselves. There is something so very inappropriate about asking whether it’s really right to consider so and so a saint, or pious, or righteous. It is not for us to judge saints, but rather the saints will judge us. It is the great cloud of witnesses, deified, translated, transfigured, who properly witnesses our behavior, not for us, kicking around on the internet, or expressing our personal opinions at coffee hour or conferences, to question theirs.

Likewise, by default, we Orthodox do not presume to judge the piety of another at all. So if someone says, this man is pious, or that man is pious, who on earth is so arrogant that they will dare to become a doubt-caster. What kind of self-righteous pawn of Satan would accuse the saints. That’s what Satan does, you know. Do we really want to join in?

The point is all of this speculation is the very example of the worst of which St. Augustine has been accused. He always said he was offering speculation. Now those who would detract from him do likewise, justifying it because they are ‘fixing’ Orthodoxy. They are the epitome of what they condemn. Those who have dug a pit have fallen into it. It has become popular, with good reason, to attack Augustinism, and the gnostic heterodoxy or heterodoxization or gnosticization of Augustinists – more correctly to defend against their attack on the Church.

But in terms of our own thinking, it is an error to impute an analysis of Augustinists and Augustinism to St. Augustine, or demand that the Church somehow respond for how the words of one of its own have been used. After all, we might as well ask whether Christ should have been considered Lord, since he likewise, if not prototypically said things that Christians have used to attack Orthodoxy and undermine the continuity of the Church’s message. Indeed, such an analysis is already popular among those who rail against religion, against what they understand to be Christianity, and against who they understand to be Christians.

It is not saying too much to say that as you speak of St. Augustine, so you are speaking of Christ. Indeed, as much as you have done it to the least of his Saints, as much as you have persecuted the lesser of his holy ones, so you have persecuted Christ, and so you have railed against principalities and powers in ignorance. You judge those who will judge angels, and in the name of one who is their King. What folly.

We are not bound to take an erroneous use of one our own’s words and turn them about as a criticism of the Church, for that is what asking such a question does. In fact, that critical method is inherently gnostic and would be right at home on any third century gnostic’s sermon roster. Indeed, the anti-Augustines are practicing Augstinism in their anti-Augustinism. They have conflated person and operation. They have turned the Faith on its head, and committed treason against it. Lord have mercy.

The Orthodox way is to insist on understanding, indeed to persist in understanding, anything written or said by one of the Saints in an Orthodox manner, wherever even remotely possible. After all. St. Gregory Palamas draws heavily on De Trinitate, a book that makes me more than cringe in my futile understanding of it, for his own 150 Chapters and some of his sermons; St. Gregory sees what I don’t. To complain that one’s mind cannot handle this is not a claim on the truth of the Orthodox way, but is rather to confess one’s own sin, one’s own frailty, one’s own weakness – and when it’s a denial of that very principle, one’s own heterodoxy. That some faint and lose heart should not mean that the rest of us put a microphone in their hands and agree to collaborate on their failed persistence. The fathers, including St. Photius the great, champion of Orthodoxy against Augustinism, always treated St. Augustine’s word with reverence. Who, says St. Photius, dares to impute any impious teaching to this man, for in doing so you would impute it to the Church.

Some have said it is because the fathers were ignorant – they didn’t have all of St. Augustine’s writings, and if they did surely they would have railed against them. That is a heresy folded into a heresy. First, we know those from of old who claim to be wiser and better informed than the fathers, to have the knowledge, the insight, and the analysis they didn’t have. They are our enemies of old, the gnostics. Out with you, counterfeiters – show your colors! You have shown them. We know these words, and the fathers also have condemned them already, before you ever grew your first beard hair. St. Irenaeus catalogs this in his encylopedia of gnosticism, against heresies, as a sure sign of gnosticism. We also know this hypothetical chatter – “surely if…” – the fathers have condemned this also – St. Maximus tells us that hypotheticals don’t exist. These are vain imaginings of those who try to step outside of history and play God. The impiety. If the fathers had what you have, you say, they would think and speak as you do, you say.

The worst of these crimes is pride. Immense, boundless pride. It is not for the fathers to learn how to think and speak from you, in some hypothetical world of philosophy; it is for you to learn how to think and speak from them. More correctly, to think and speak as they did. And they have proclaimed Augustine saint, and pious, and righteous, and a champion of the Faith. Who are you? Truly St. Photius is right – you speak against the Church, against the Faith, against the possibility of Faith. You substitute for the Faith your own speculations, your own puffed up self image, and your own philosophy. It is the ultimate act of Protestantism – we need to carry you around with us now, as a new kind of pope, a new bible, to keep us correct. You have assaulted the Church to divide it with the very cleaver of dialectic you condemn, pitting saint against saint, father against father, apostle against apostle. You are Marcion. Repent. Your correctness exceeds that of God himself.

To hell with that kind of correctness. I’m with St. Augustine, and St. Photius, and St. Maximus, and St. Irenaeus, and all the desert fathers who call us to account for our pride, before I am with any religion or Church constructed on paper or in a blog, picking piecemeal through the Faith like litter, building a homonculus religion out of personally preferred parts. But that’s just it – I’m not important – Christ is with St. Augustine – that’s important. But you do take serious risks in trying to divide any of us as you do: if you persist in this way, then whatever Faith you are asking me to subscribe to, I reject on my life. I’m am of the Faith of St. Augustine, and must be, if I wish to be of the Faith of Christ. I’ll tell you where Augustinism thrives – it is never so pronounced among the heterodox as it is among the Orthodox who strive to outdo them in their intellects. Better right now to embrace them all as brothers than to speak againt one of our heroes in this way. Better to call everyone pious, and every impiety piety, than to attack Christ in this way. In a world of absurdity, let Christ be true, though every man of us be made a liar.

That’s where I come down on it. Some of you will not appreciate it. That’s fine. The beatings will continue. And the persecuted Saints will endure it. And Christ will wreak his retribution at the right hour. Add me to your list, if you want. I am not more worthy than my Master, or than any of these. I tell you, if St. Augustine is persecuted, put me down as one of his. Let the cock crow, I will not deny him. The Holy Spirit has come. Burn my eyes out, if you wish. Better me, this one, stupid blogger, than so worthy a hero among the Saints. But I will call to your mind the desert, and those who speak from it, warning us of this pride. Be very careful. Touch not the annointed of God. Do not despise his messengers, among whom is St. Augustine. Read the parable of the vineyard. Do you not see what you are doing? Repent. The Kingdom of God is near. Seek the prayers of St. Augustine, and ask his forgiveness, as I ask yours for offending you. I don’t know what else to do. And if I have a son, I will name him Augustine, just as Bishop Augustinos of Florina (Church of Greece) bears his name, because we need to defend our own, not join the heretics in twisting his words, which is only our own twisted understanding.

Lord unbend our minds. St. Augustine save us. I know that you are a saint, and that i am not, and that is more troubling to me than how someone has trifled with words you have written.

Friend, declare with us all and the infallible 5th Ecumenical Council that you “hold fast to the decrees of the four Councils, and in every way follow the holy Fathers, Athanasius, Hilary, Basil, Gregory the Theologian, Gregory of Nyssa, Ambrose, Theophilus, John (Chrysostom) of Constantinople, Cyril, Augustine…” Declare yourself among them, rather than seeking to drive a wedge among their names where none exists except in the vanity of your mind. Seek to understand them as they rightly understand each other. Do not speak against the whole church. Don’t you realize it? When you speak against any of the Ecumenical Councils, you speak against the whole church, or separate yourself from it, for we are the Church of the Seven Councils, and none of us can hold the True Faith or be saved who deny them, as St. Athanasius has said. To stand on Sunday and say the Ecumenical Creed means nothing unless you mean all that they mean in the Ecumenical Councils – it is from the Councils that the Creed is our Credo.

Do you not see what you have said and what you have done? Do you not see what you are doing?

To various among your other points:

For a photo of the beautiful St. Augustine Greek Orthodox Church in Vienna, go [here]. Our commenter implies that he cannot find any ancient churches dedicated to the saint, but this is to confuse Orthodoxy with antiquarianism. We Orthodox do not impute some greater degree of spirit to the ancient Church than to the recent. We are not antiquarians but the preservers of the living Faith.

The 6th Ecumenical Counsel, which is infallible, speaks of “most excellent and blessed Augustine”. The Council of Constantinople 1166: refers to “Saint Augustine”. In challenging the sainthood of St. Augustine, one is challenging very specific things, and not some vague inclinations, and most specifically not the knowledge level of these ancients (ironic, since presumably we are venerating the ancient). What is challenged is more significant and serious than the wisdom of the ancients or of the moderns, but perhaps the very Spirit of God.

See also St. Augustine’s “Retractions” which, at the end of his life, lay out things he wished he’d said differently and which show the development of his thought and, most specifically, not only that the format of his writing was speculative, but that humility won out in him, and piety, overall.

For a traditional Greek Icon of St. Augustine, labelled “Saint Augustine”, see the cover of Fr. Seraphim Rose’s book, “The Place of Blessed Augustine in the Orthodox Church”. Our commenter has also written scandalous things about Fr. Seraphim, a saintly man, after Fr. Seraphim refused to collaborate with him in attacking St. Augustine, but this is beside the point. There’s no need to go past the cover, by the standards the critic claims are so telling. And none anyway, if the icon is insufficient for you. An excellent discussion, including a letter by Fr. Seraphim is [here].

Some key points: The Orthodox do not regard the term “blessed” as truly distinct from “saint” or to show a rank or order among saints, but merely as distinguishing a different type of saint or perhaps a different reason for veneration. Also, the Orthodox do not regard someone a saint or not a saint solely on the basis of his thought, otherwise there are many saints that we would reject as such, but often on the basis of his piety, or his pious Christlike actions. So the basis of argument is, as ever, superfluouss. Lastly, there is a distinction between a saint and a father, but this is not a dialectical or categorical distinction, but in a positive way it is a distinction of how we respond to a saint, not a distinction in the saint himself and, in a negative way, it is merely an academic distinction (that is to say: a convention for academic communication). The tendency to confuse academic communication with religious attitude is itself a sign of “Augustinism”.

The charge often laid against the Orthodox, by which I mean those of us who, with the Church, as the Orthodox, without making war on the Church, venerate St. Augustine in peace, is that we are not anti-ecumenistic enough. This is a silly assumption, and an ad hominem.

It is not only quite possible to be deeply Orthodox and venerate St. Augustine, it is required. What the purveyors of ad hominem and guilt by association and begging the question have done, is redefine what it means to be ‘anti-ecumenistic’ by equating it with being anti-St. Augustine. Therefore, if you defend the saint, you may be Orthodox, but not really – you’re a member of the party that doesn’t get it and is destroying Orthodoxy – you occupy the unofficial category of being insufficiently severe. They don’t dare claim you’re not Orthodox (they do in some places, where they don’t “recognize” the rest of the Orthodox) – not too loudly, because removing the authority of the Church, which keeps St. Augustine on the calendar and the walls of our churches, and in the names of churches and bishops, and so on, would remove their own claim to be authoritative. They need us, like parasites. It’s kind of icky. But now of course, they can beg the question, saying that the Orthodox don’t venerate St. Augustine, because you and I are insufficiently Orthodox. Our commitment is suspect. We’re of an unofficially wrong attitude, though we have rejected none of the Church’s doctrines and only presumed to love her champions. And all pious men are champions of the Faith, because all piety is Orthodoxy, just as  all those who attack the Church are impious, and so heretical, though every doctrine they allow is correct.

This division of piety from correctness, this opposition of the two, is so fundamentalist – evangelical – protestant that it boggles the imagination how any Orthodox person could go down such a mental trail. Not really, since they are displaying the very Augustinism they presume to critique, while St. Augustine himself is so catholic that he could never sit with such a mind, nor could any of the saints. Again, it’s kind of icky.

If their were a Byzantine or Russian form of quasi catholic protestantism, they’d fit right in. Fundamentally, they don’t believe in the Church. As one writer points out, they live in a time in which their trust has often been betrayed, and this is the extreme reaction. But brethren, it is necessary, first of all, that we hold the catholic Faith. Let us, though there are a great many other reasons, if for no other reason, hold fast to St. Augustine in order to hold fast to that. To do otherwise separates us from the piety and mind and authority and wisdom and Faith of the Church. If you reject her saints, you are not her child. Who is it who does not love the friends of God, who can be a friend of Christ? Repent. Convert. Leave off your heresy. And those who persuade you to be antagonists against Christ, depart from them.

Personally, and I’ve no wish to proselytize, I prefer the OCA, where you will find both ecumenists and traditionalists and everyone else living in relative harmony, but no faction is allowed to take over and build a private army of co-religionists. I would rather pray with ecumenists, and St. Augustine, and you my militant saint-hating brethren, than join anyone in moral and emotional schism. God defend the Church, at the gates of Hell, and all of us, and St. Augustine.

Some other nice material: [here] and [here]. The entry in the Prologue is on [June 15th].

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