This article on the WCC website, though more than a decade old, remains an accurate statement of the intentions of modernists regarding the Orthodox liturgy. The notoriously liberal monks at New Skete Monastery, formerly Catholic, but received into the notoriously liberal Orthodox Church in America (a jurisdiction whose autocephaly has never been universally recognized), corrupted by the modernist heresy so prevelant in the Roman church, manifested in the liturgical reforms in the wake of Vatican II (which, I should state, were a dreadful perversion of what Vatican II actually authorized; in terms of seeking reconciliation with the Orthodox, and in terms of the change of theological emphasis that Vatican II produced, it was, by itself, a movement in the direction of Orthodoxy), naturally want to do the same thing to the Orthodox church.
In this series of articles, I shall proceed to enumerate their desired reforms, and then explain why these reforms are deadly, from the perspective of Confessional Orthodoxy.
Suggestion no. 2: Elimination of Silent Prayers
"Liturgical worship is carried out by the entire assembly, not just by the clergy. For this reason, liturgical prayer generally employs the first person plural. This is clear, for example, in the anaphora, the central prayer of the eucharistic liturgy: "Remembering this saving commandment..., offering you your own of your own.... we praise you, we bless you, we give thanks to you..." The central action here is our corporate offering of praise and thanks, our eucharistia. It is appropriate, therefore, for liturgical prayer, the prayer of the assembly, to be recited aloud, for all to hear."
Why this is a bad idea:
While I would agree with the monks of New Skete that perhaps over the centuries, too many of the prayers became silent, if the priest were to say all the prayers aloud, it would substantially damage the liturgical experience, by suppressing the mystical quality provided through the quiet, discrete actions of the priest, scarcely visible or hidden by the iconostasis, accompanied by the angelic voices of the choir. Those Orthodox parishes that have implemented this change, in some cases, wind up sounding a bit like the famous "Montage" sequence at the end of The Godfather. What is more, if all the prayers are said aloud, the prayers will either be rushed by the priest, or the service elongated, or the congregation alienated by their apparent verbosity. Every prayer in the Divine Liturgy is holy, sacred, and present for a very good reason, and saying all the silent prayers aloud would be a very effective way of truncating them. Consider as an example the highly abbreviated prayers of the Roman Catholic Pauline Missal, compared to the much longer, and mostly silent prayers of the Tridentine Mass.
That said, I strongly support the priest intoning the entire Institution Narrative, and the Epiclesis, which are the most exquisitely beautiful prayers in the liturgy, and which deserve to be heard by all present. "Thine own of thine own, we offer unto thee, on behalf of all, and for all," should be the climax of the Consecration; from then, as far as the priest is concerned, silence should prevail until the Lord's Prayer. As one of the main differences between the two main liturgies, of St. Basil and St. John Chrysostom, is the Epiclesis, saying it aloud would be of great benefit; otherwise, the only noticeable difference when serving St. Basil is the singing of "All of creation" instead of "It is truly meet." I should also add that the other prayers which differentiate the Divine Liturgies of St. Basil and St. John Chrysostom ought to be read aloud occasionally; for example, on Forgiveness Sunday and the Sunday of Orthodoxy. In that manner, the congregation will have a chance to clearly hear the numerous differences between the two liturgies.
I should also stress that the Epiclesis, and any other prayers otherwise said silently, should be intoned, and not said. There exist a number of excellent musical settings for the Epiclesis; a very excellent example can be seen in this liturgy, celebrated by Metropolitan Philip Saliba of blessed memory. This liturgy also shows the outer limits of how silent prayers can be tastefully spoken; in a large cathedral church like St. Elias, one can get away with speaking them in the altar, for the benefit of fellow clergy, to ease following along, but it would be hugely inappropriate to use a microphone and amplifier to broadcast these prayers to the congregation.
Lastly, and most importantly, one should observe that one of the primary objectives of Orthodox ascetic discipline has always been to create silence. This has been accomplished in many ways and in many forms; through the Jesus Prayer, recited verbally at first, then mentally, and finally noetically, through the silent prayers in the liturgy, and through the atmosphere of quiet contemplation that prevails in our monasteries and church. Why then should we possibly wish to do away with silence? Yes, there is choral music during the silent prayers, but an undeniable sense of stillness permeates the church, just as the verbal repetition of the Jesus Prayer allows one to tone out the distracting and oppressive noises of the World, and to retreat to the realm of Godly quiet.
In fact, silence has been one of the most desparately sought qualities not only in Orthodoxy, but in Christianity; indeed, almost all world religions value silence as a precious commodity, from the waiting worship of the Quakers, to the reverent quiet that prevails after dusk in the Kastom religion of the Melanesians of Tanna, to the austere silence of a Roman Catholic low mass, to the absolute silence that prevails at the ceremonial burning of the Temple at the Burning Man Festival (an event that is a religion in its own right). Thus, to criticize the ancient tradition of silent prayers in the Divine Liturgy is not just to attack traditional Orthodoxy; it is a profoundly irreligious gesture that is an affront not only to Christianity but to the vast majority of world religions.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Three Books Every Christian Should Have
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| The Ladder of Divine Ascent - Icon at St. Catharine's Monastery, Sinai |
Unfortunately, it is relatively expensive; the best English translation by Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, consisting of five volumes, will set you back significantly more than most high quality study bibles. It is also a formidable volume, as thick a read as the Bible itself. What a pity more Christians cannot read Koine Greek and Aramaic, in which it and the Gospels were originally written, and thus have access to it free of charge.
However, if you cannot afford the Philokalia, in all its splendor (and it is something worth saving your pennies for, or borrowing from the library), there are two related volumes that will provide you with much of the same guidance, that have translations that are, in the United States, in the Public Domain, and can thus be downloaded free of charge over the Internet.
One is The Ladder of Divine Ascent, by St. John of the Ladder, a monk whose life is shrouded in obscurity, but whose book is highly prized by monastics. Read in the Orthodox church during Lent, it outlines the journey of ascetic purification made by monks in the ascetic life, but is of equal value to those living in the world. One might think of it as The Philokalia In a Nutshell.
The other, published 102 years from the Philokalia's initial 1782 release on Mount Athos, is work, which most likely is a fiction inspired by the lives of several Russian ascetics, but which could be a genuine biography or autobiography, entitled The Way of the Pilgrim, which chronicles the spiritual progress of a man who seeks to follow literally the admonition of our Lord to "Pray without ceasing." This he accomplishes, following the guidance of a monk, with the help of a prayer rope, the Philokalia, and the Jesus Prayer, which he says tens of thousands of time a day; in every waking moment, until he attains in due course the unceasing prayer of the heart. Imbued with incredible spiritual energy, he then happily lives as a wandering hermit, in complete trust in our Lord, with only his Philokalia and Prayer Rope. As a work of pious literature it is unrivalled, and it contains within much of the common theme of the Philokalia. It should be noted however that the protagonist attains the unceasing prayer of the heart in an unusually short amount of time; although my ascetic discipline pales in comparison with that of the nameless pilgrim, I have yet to attain it, and may never, for many monks of rigorous discipline, the attainment of such a state of grace is the work of a lifetime.
Nonetheless, the words of the 20th century Chicago ad mogul Leo Burnett come to mind: "Always reach for the stars. You might not get there, but you won't wind up with a handful of mud, either."
Wood Wool as Thurible Fuel (Don't try this at home)
Disclaimer: I take no responsibility for any damages resulting from reading this article, and urge all churchmen to observe the most vigorous fire safety precautions, including the use of wireless smoke detectors and automated environmental monitoring systems; too many beautiful historic churches have been burned down in recent years due to a vigil lamp or candle being forgotten about, or a thurible unsafely stored without being properly defueled and cleaned at the end of the service.
This article comes as a result of many months of experimentation on my part to find the ideal alternative fuel source to charcoal for burning incense. Our Christian incense, unlike the rather putrid joss sticks used in Eastern religions (which produce a smoke the mere whiff of which will give me an almost unbearable sinus headache, and which are popularly used by hippies and hipsters to mask the odor of marijuana smoking), is not self-combusting, but instead, like the incense burned on the Altar of Incense in the Tabernacle and the Temples that followed it, requires an external heat source, most typically charcoal. Charcoal, even of th self-lighting variety, is cumbersome to work with however, and leaves unpleasant black stains when it is spilled. Thus, I have experimented with a number of alternative fuels, including cooking oil, rubbing alcohol, and a Book of Mormon (the latter produced most unsatisfactory results, for the burning paper and ink produced a foul, chemically-laden odor that masked entirely the smell of the incense, and to no small extent I felt as though my thurible was contaminated by the mere presence of such a vile text, even in shredded form, within its combustion chamber).
Excelsior, or wood wool, a highly flammable packing material, is the first viable alternative material I have found, and works surprisingly well, but great caution must be observed. Excelsior burns much faster than self-lighting charcoal, and will, unlike charcoal, produce dramatic flames. Fill the thurible with about an inch of excelsior, cover it with a small layer of incense, and and ignite it. Be aware that jets of flame will shoot up, so keep your hands and vestments clear of the device. When the fire reaches that portion, do not swing the thurible, but keep it steady to release an initial, highly perfumed smoke. At a certain point, the flames will become excessive; at this time, quickly close the lid of the thurible. You will get a steady stream of smoke for about three to five minutes; not as much as with charcoal, but enough to serve. Do not swing the thurible with the lid open.
When the burning stops, you will, on inspection, find only the uppermost layer of excelsior has burned; the lower strands are still unburned. This is an artifact of the fast combustion and is in fact desirable. The incense, which when melted acts like glue, will have caused the mass of fuel to cake together, and it can be stored and reused. For safe storage, store it in an airtight glass (not plastic) jar, to prevent the risk of accidental reignition. When reusing the previously used fuel, the layer of burned excelsior serves to slow the rate of combustion. You will thus largely "preload" the thurible with incense, as the open flames excelsior will produce will be smothered by a normal application from the boat.
Any thurifer considering the use of excelsior as fuel would do well to obtain the permission of his priest, for a mishap resulting from it could have a deleterious effect on one's subdiaconal career.
In the Ambrosian, still served in the Cathedral of Milan, which features some rather spectacular liturgical spectacles, open top thurbiles are used, which are gently moved in a clockwise direction, rather than swung. This is doubtless due to the spilling that would occur were they swung; however, exclesior would not work as fuel in that context given its extremely fast rate of combustion; rather, the use of it in the Ambrosian Rite would be a good way to facilitate the construciton of a new Duomo.
This article comes as a result of many months of experimentation on my part to find the ideal alternative fuel source to charcoal for burning incense. Our Christian incense, unlike the rather putrid joss sticks used in Eastern religions (which produce a smoke the mere whiff of which will give me an almost unbearable sinus headache, and which are popularly used by hippies and hipsters to mask the odor of marijuana smoking), is not self-combusting, but instead, like the incense burned on the Altar of Incense in the Tabernacle and the Temples that followed it, requires an external heat source, most typically charcoal. Charcoal, even of th self-lighting variety, is cumbersome to work with however, and leaves unpleasant black stains when it is spilled. Thus, I have experimented with a number of alternative fuels, including cooking oil, rubbing alcohol, and a Book of Mormon (the latter produced most unsatisfactory results, for the burning paper and ink produced a foul, chemically-laden odor that masked entirely the smell of the incense, and to no small extent I felt as though my thurible was contaminated by the mere presence of such a vile text, even in shredded form, within its combustion chamber).
Excelsior, or wood wool, a highly flammable packing material, is the first viable alternative material I have found, and works surprisingly well, but great caution must be observed. Excelsior burns much faster than self-lighting charcoal, and will, unlike charcoal, produce dramatic flames. Fill the thurible with about an inch of excelsior, cover it with a small layer of incense, and and ignite it. Be aware that jets of flame will shoot up, so keep your hands and vestments clear of the device. When the fire reaches that portion, do not swing the thurible, but keep it steady to release an initial, highly perfumed smoke. At a certain point, the flames will become excessive; at this time, quickly close the lid of the thurible. You will get a steady stream of smoke for about three to five minutes; not as much as with charcoal, but enough to serve. Do not swing the thurible with the lid open.
When the burning stops, you will, on inspection, find only the uppermost layer of excelsior has burned; the lower strands are still unburned. This is an artifact of the fast combustion and is in fact desirable. The incense, which when melted acts like glue, will have caused the mass of fuel to cake together, and it can be stored and reused. For safe storage, store it in an airtight glass (not plastic) jar, to prevent the risk of accidental reignition. When reusing the previously used fuel, the layer of burned excelsior serves to slow the rate of combustion. You will thus largely "preload" the thurible with incense, as the open flames excelsior will produce will be smothered by a normal application from the boat.
Any thurifer considering the use of excelsior as fuel would do well to obtain the permission of his priest, for a mishap resulting from it could have a deleterious effect on one's subdiaconal career.
In the Ambrosian, still served in the Cathedral of Milan, which features some rather spectacular liturgical spectacles, open top thurbiles are used, which are gently moved in a clockwise direction, rather than swung. This is doubtless due to the spilling that would occur were they swung; however, exclesior would not work as fuel in that context given its extremely fast rate of combustion; rather, the use of it in the Ambrosian Rite would be a good way to facilitate the construciton of a new Duomo.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
The Ecclesia Gnostica vs. The Episcopal Church
Why do (post)modernists insist upon desecrating and destroying the great churches of our time? Why must parishioners be subjected to radical doctrines that ultimately alienate them from the churches in which they were baptized? Why can't liberal clergy have the courage to form new denominations, instead of poisoning and slowly destroying those existing churches?
I should in this article like to compare an example of a new denomination, created to meet the desires of a liberal and esoteric theology, the Ecclesia Gnostica, with an old denomination, the Episcopal Church, USA, which has in the same city as the Bishop of the former, a parish where the priest openly denounces the Nicene, Athanasian and Apostle's Creeds as "Defective" and quotes a Gnostic gospel in defense of his position. Thus, the former is an honestly liberal, Gnostic church, whereas the latter is intentionally dishonest about its beliefs when talking to different audiences (for in the very same diocese, you will find conservative parishes like St. Francis of Assisi in Simi Valley, which operate along entirely traditional lines, at least for the time being).
The Ecclesia Gnostica, whose theology rejects or distorts the Orthodox position in almost every detail, even to the extent of embracing otherwise unrelated heresies such as Donatism, is an example of what I feel liberal clergy actually should be building. It is a new denomination. It provides all those services which the Orthodox Church never can (without ceasing to be Orthodox): gay marriage, female ordination, occult ritual. It is not constrained by the Athanasian canon and following in the footsteps of Marcion and Valentinus, regards the God of the Old Testament as a wrathful, vengeful diety, an incompetent demiurge produced by an abortion of Sophia (a belief clearly held implicitly by many liberal clergy who doubtless cringe when reading their Revised Common Lectionary-supplied Old Testament lesson).
The Episcopal Church, on the other hand, at one time was the most Orthodox of American churches, to such an extent that, as recently as the 1950s, restoration of communion between it and the other Anglican churches, and their Old Catholic brethren, and the Orthodox church, appeared all but inevitable. Then a new wave of liberal theologians, led by heresiarchs like James Pike, took the reigns, and gave us the rapidly dwindling church of today, a church which cares more about litigation than about liturgy.
In contrast to the actions of the modern "reformers" of the Episcopal Church, USA, and other mainline denominations, are undeniably destructive, participating in the Ecclesia Gnostica is a constructive act. I do not agree with the Ecclesia Gnostica, but I respect them. They are honest in their intentions. Their Bishop appears to be a decent and reverent man, who eschewed the comforts of a normal life to pursue his religious convictions, unlike the salaried bureaucrats who run the Episcopal Church, who benefit from relatively decent healthcare and pension plans, and who stand to profit as the ECUSA transitions from being a worshipping body of the faithful* to being a Real Estate Investment Trust, slowly disposing of its extremely valuable property holdings for reuse by other denominations, or redevelopment as shopping malls, entertainment centers, and other uses. In contrast, the Ecclesia Gnostica operates within the most humble of facilities, certainly adhering to what one might call a sense of Christian poverty.
Thus, I would propose to all Christians who feel called to the ministry: if you find yourself drawn to Christ, but cannot agree with the traditional beliefs of your denomination, if indeed it still has any, join the Ecclesia Gnostica, the Metropolitan Community Church, or the Unitarian Universalists, and work to ensure those churches are honest and open about their beliefs, for if it turns out your interpretation of Christianity is incorrect, at least in such a manner you will not have to answer at the dread day of judgment for leading astray the flock of Christ. If on the other hand, we in the Orthodox Church are proven wrong, we are prepared to answer it, and in imitation of our Lord, give our lives a ransom for those we have misled.
I should in this article like to compare an example of a new denomination, created to meet the desires of a liberal and esoteric theology, the Ecclesia Gnostica, with an old denomination, the Episcopal Church, USA, which has in the same city as the Bishop of the former, a parish where the priest openly denounces the Nicene, Athanasian and Apostle's Creeds as "Defective" and quotes a Gnostic gospel in defense of his position. Thus, the former is an honestly liberal, Gnostic church, whereas the latter is intentionally dishonest about its beliefs when talking to different audiences (for in the very same diocese, you will find conservative parishes like St. Francis of Assisi in Simi Valley, which operate along entirely traditional lines, at least for the time being).
The Ecclesia Gnostica, whose theology rejects or distorts the Orthodox position in almost every detail, even to the extent of embracing otherwise unrelated heresies such as Donatism, is an example of what I feel liberal clergy actually should be building. It is a new denomination. It provides all those services which the Orthodox Church never can (without ceasing to be Orthodox): gay marriage, female ordination, occult ritual. It is not constrained by the Athanasian canon and following in the footsteps of Marcion and Valentinus, regards the God of the Old Testament as a wrathful, vengeful diety, an incompetent demiurge produced by an abortion of Sophia (a belief clearly held implicitly by many liberal clergy who doubtless cringe when reading their Revised Common Lectionary-supplied Old Testament lesson).
The Episcopal Church, on the other hand, at one time was the most Orthodox of American churches, to such an extent that, as recently as the 1950s, restoration of communion between it and the other Anglican churches, and their Old Catholic brethren, and the Orthodox church, appeared all but inevitable. Then a new wave of liberal theologians, led by heresiarchs like James Pike, took the reigns, and gave us the rapidly dwindling church of today, a church which cares more about litigation than about liturgy.
In contrast to the actions of the modern "reformers" of the Episcopal Church, USA, and other mainline denominations, are undeniably destructive, participating in the Ecclesia Gnostica is a constructive act. I do not agree with the Ecclesia Gnostica, but I respect them. They are honest in their intentions. Their Bishop appears to be a decent and reverent man, who eschewed the comforts of a normal life to pursue his religious convictions, unlike the salaried bureaucrats who run the Episcopal Church, who benefit from relatively decent healthcare and pension plans, and who stand to profit as the ECUSA transitions from being a worshipping body of the faithful* to being a Real Estate Investment Trust, slowly disposing of its extremely valuable property holdings for reuse by other denominations, or redevelopment as shopping malls, entertainment centers, and other uses. In contrast, the Ecclesia Gnostica operates within the most humble of facilities, certainly adhering to what one might call a sense of Christian poverty.
Thus, I would propose to all Christians who feel called to the ministry: if you find yourself drawn to Christ, but cannot agree with the traditional beliefs of your denomination, if indeed it still has any, join the Ecclesia Gnostica, the Metropolitan Community Church, or the Unitarian Universalists, and work to ensure those churches are honest and open about their beliefs, for if it turns out your interpretation of Christianity is incorrect, at least in such a manner you will not have to answer at the dread day of judgment for leading astray the flock of Christ. If on the other hand, we in the Orthodox Church are proven wrong, we are prepared to answer it, and in imitation of our Lord, give our lives a ransom for those we have misled.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Modernist Revision of the Divine Liturgy, Part 1: Vernacular-only Liturgy
This article on the WCC website, though more than a decade old, remains an accurate statement of the intentions of modernists regarding the Orthodox liturgy. The notoriously liberal monks at New Skete Monastery, formerly Catholic, but received into the notoriously liberal Orthodox Church in America (a jurisdiction whose autocephaly has never been universally recognized), corrupted by the modernist heresy so prevelant in the Roman church, manifested in the liturgical reforms in the wake of Vatican II (which, I should state, were a dreadful perversion of what Vatican II actually authorized; in terms of seeking reconciliation with the Orthodox, and in terms of the change of theological emphasis that Vatican II produced, it was, by itself, a movement in the direction of Orthodoxy), naturally want to do the same thing to the Orthodox church.
In this series, I shall proceed to enumerate their desired reforms, and then explain why these reforms are deadly, from the perspective of Confessional Orthodoxy.
Suggestion no. 1: Vernacular-only Liturgy
"These general principles concerning the nature of worship have a number of implications for Orthodox worship in our time. First of all, if the principles enunciated above are to be fully realized, our worship normally should be conducted in the vernacular, in the language of the people. For centuries the Orthodox have appealed to the example of Sts. Cyril and Methodius. In recent practice, however, this principle often has been violated. Our churches must consider whether the language of their worship in fact conveys its real meaning to the faithful and to the world."
Why this is a bad idea:
Already, vernacular translations are available for all of the Orthodox service books, and in those churches that continue to use the ancient liturgical languages, such as Koine Greek and Church Slavonic, more often than not, the ancient language is mixed with the vernacular; the homily is always given in the vernacular. To the extent that these ancient languages provide a barrier to understanding, they also facilitate a certain mysticism; I myself enjoy listening to Orthodox music in Church Slavonic precisely because I don't understand it verbally, but I know the lyrics that are being sung. I can, in this manner, focus purely on the spiritual dimension, which transends verbal speech.
What is more, many churches, particularly among our Oriental Orthodox brethren, have adopted the use of LCD and projection-based display screens; the Coptic and Syriac Orthodox Churches use this to simultaneously display Arabic and English translations of their liturgy at most of their parishes in the United States, and this system works exceedingly well. In the near future, tablets will be cheap enough, that the church might provide an ipad style device for the use of parishioners, with the complete text of the service, allowing them to follow along with great ease; these same devices might well replace the printed service books and sheet music. Many of these devices, like the Kindle, use electronic paper, so there is no distracting backlight, and unless you buy a leather casing, there are no animal products on the devices, making them suitable for use in the altar. Thus, the question of accessibility when using a liturgical language is utterly moot.
However, the most important reason for keeping the ancient liturgical languages, and using them together with the modern vernacular, is so that we preserve continuity with our forefathers. What a tragedy it would be if the language of the Gospel, Koine Greek, or the Aramaic language spoken by Jesus, in its Syriac dialects, or the Church Slavonic used by Russians for centuries, were to disappear. Rabinnical and Karaite Jews pray exclusively in Hebrew and Aramaic, relying on vernacular Siddurs (the equivalent of a Roman Catholic hand missal, or an Anglican Book of Common Prayer), and in my mind they are to be commended for this, as the language of Israel, the font of the Church, is thus preserved. The use of the vernacular was naturally one of the first changes introduced by modernizing Jews in the Reform denomination.
Lastly, one might observe the schism, general strife, and liturgical chaos the deprecation of Latin caused the Roman church. Though the Orthodox church has never been as wedded to a liturgical language as the Roman church, and indeed the historic refusal of the Romans to countenance any vernacular liturgy was a major point of disagreement between the two confessions, many Roman Catholics were greatly attached to the language of Cicero and St. Jerome, and this caused many schisms; today, the fastest growing parts of the Catholic church are the Latin-speaking traditionalist groups created under the auspices of Pope Benedict XVI's bull Summorum Pontificum, which greatly improved access to the old Tridentine liturgy. There are some signs the Roman church may be preparing to retrench on this point under Francis; if this occurs, the Orthodox should make every effort to accomodate disgruntled Catholics in our Western Rite, lest they fall into the hands of the SSPX, an evil, racist, and anti-Semitic organization that turns religious intolerance into a luxury brand. Given the nationalism present in the "canonical" Greek and Cypriot churches, and in the Moscow Patriarch, one shudders to think what xenophobic nightmares the abandonment of Church Slavonic or Koine Greek might create.
In our next installment, we will address the next item on the Modernist's agenda: eliminating the silent prayers.
In this series, I shall proceed to enumerate their desired reforms, and then explain why these reforms are deadly, from the perspective of Confessional Orthodoxy.
Suggestion no. 1: Vernacular-only Liturgy
"These general principles concerning the nature of worship have a number of implications for Orthodox worship in our time. First of all, if the principles enunciated above are to be fully realized, our worship normally should be conducted in the vernacular, in the language of the people. For centuries the Orthodox have appealed to the example of Sts. Cyril and Methodius. In recent practice, however, this principle often has been violated. Our churches must consider whether the language of their worship in fact conveys its real meaning to the faithful and to the world."
Why this is a bad idea:
Already, vernacular translations are available for all of the Orthodox service books, and in those churches that continue to use the ancient liturgical languages, such as Koine Greek and Church Slavonic, more often than not, the ancient language is mixed with the vernacular; the homily is always given in the vernacular. To the extent that these ancient languages provide a barrier to understanding, they also facilitate a certain mysticism; I myself enjoy listening to Orthodox music in Church Slavonic precisely because I don't understand it verbally, but I know the lyrics that are being sung. I can, in this manner, focus purely on the spiritual dimension, which transends verbal speech.
What is more, many churches, particularly among our Oriental Orthodox brethren, have adopted the use of LCD and projection-based display screens; the Coptic and Syriac Orthodox Churches use this to simultaneously display Arabic and English translations of their liturgy at most of their parishes in the United States, and this system works exceedingly well. In the near future, tablets will be cheap enough, that the church might provide an ipad style device for the use of parishioners, with the complete text of the service, allowing them to follow along with great ease; these same devices might well replace the printed service books and sheet music. Many of these devices, like the Kindle, use electronic paper, so there is no distracting backlight, and unless you buy a leather casing, there are no animal products on the devices, making them suitable for use in the altar. Thus, the question of accessibility when using a liturgical language is utterly moot.
However, the most important reason for keeping the ancient liturgical languages, and using them together with the modern vernacular, is so that we preserve continuity with our forefathers. What a tragedy it would be if the language of the Gospel, Koine Greek, or the Aramaic language spoken by Jesus, in its Syriac dialects, or the Church Slavonic used by Russians for centuries, were to disappear. Rabinnical and Karaite Jews pray exclusively in Hebrew and Aramaic, relying on vernacular Siddurs (the equivalent of a Roman Catholic hand missal, or an Anglican Book of Common Prayer), and in my mind they are to be commended for this, as the language of Israel, the font of the Church, is thus preserved. The use of the vernacular was naturally one of the first changes introduced by modernizing Jews in the Reform denomination.
Lastly, one might observe the schism, general strife, and liturgical chaos the deprecation of Latin caused the Roman church. Though the Orthodox church has never been as wedded to a liturgical language as the Roman church, and indeed the historic refusal of the Romans to countenance any vernacular liturgy was a major point of disagreement between the two confessions, many Roman Catholics were greatly attached to the language of Cicero and St. Jerome, and this caused many schisms; today, the fastest growing parts of the Catholic church are the Latin-speaking traditionalist groups created under the auspices of Pope Benedict XVI's bull Summorum Pontificum, which greatly improved access to the old Tridentine liturgy. There are some signs the Roman church may be preparing to retrench on this point under Francis; if this occurs, the Orthodox should make every effort to accomodate disgruntled Catholics in our Western Rite, lest they fall into the hands of the SSPX, an evil, racist, and anti-Semitic organization that turns religious intolerance into a luxury brand. Given the nationalism present in the "canonical" Greek and Cypriot churches, and in the Moscow Patriarch, one shudders to think what xenophobic nightmares the abandonment of Church Slavonic or Koine Greek might create.
In our next installment, we will address the next item on the Modernist's agenda: eliminating the silent prayers.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Introduction
Here, I hope to share theological reflections from an Orthodox perspective. I am a traditionalist Orthodox Christian; I support preserving in all its splendour the ancient liturgical rites of our faith. I also support our Western Rite communities, and if possible, reconciliation with the Oriental Orthodox, on the basis of a shared faith in the Seven Ecumenical Councils.
I am in general opposed to the Ecumenical Movement, in terms of its implementation, ethos, and practical effect. I fervently support the reunification of the Christian Church, but this reunification must be accomplished on the basis of one dogmatic accord. The lowest common denominator minimalism by which the World Council of Churches hopes to achieve reunification is entirely inadequete, and when one looks at the membership trends of the major denominations outside of the Orthodox Church, one can see that active participation in the Ecumenical Movement has been profoundly destructive for those churches that have chosen to participate in it.
Being opposed to the Ecumenical Movement does not entail opposition to the reunification of Christians, however, and a good example of such a reunfication occurring outside of the Ecumenical Movement would be the reception into the Antiochian Orthodox Church of a large contingent of former evangelicals in the 1980s, under the leadership of men like Patriarch Ignatius IV, Metropolitan Philip Saliba and Peter Gilquist, all of blessed memory. Furthermore, being opposed to the Ecumenical Movement does not entail an exclusivist view of salvation; I agree with St. John Maximovitch of Shanghai and San Francisco that a loving God will not punish those who sincerely reach out to Him. I do believe that, in general, one is generally much better off as a Protestant Christian than as an atheist or a member of another religion; one would simply be still better off as a member of the Orthodox Church, which being the authentic Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, is capable of dispensing grace on a scale that significantly exceeds that of other confessions.
At its core, the Orthodox Church is filled with love, and in this environment of deep love, sacramental efficacy is a given; one can, within those Orthodox Churches that have remained true to the ancient traditions of the church, perceive the authentic holiness transmitted through the ages from Christ through his Apostles.
My great passion is the liturgy of Christianity in general. I see the Western Rite as being of vital importance to the Orthodox Church; I feel we should go beyond that, and embrace all liturgical rites that are not contrary to the Orthodox faith, or that contain elements that are inherently blasphemous (for example, liturgical dance or "Christian rock" music). However, these liturgical rites should obviously be limited to new mission parishes that use them from the start; those churches that have always worshipped with the splendid Byzantine liturgy should always continue to do so. The liturgy is timeless, and any change to the liturgy, even the minor alteration of a particular local custom at a small parish church, is a potential disaster, as is demonstrated by the alienation and persecution that resulted from the liturgical reforms of Patriarch Nikon in the 17th century, a process that is now repeating itself on a far more extreme scale in the Western heterodox churches of today.
In this blog, therefore, I hope to discuss Orthodox theology, and the great worship tradition of the Christian faith. I also hope to occasionally venture into comparative theology, that we might discuss what makes Christianity unique among the world religions, and at the same time, come to a deeper understanding as to the importance of religion in general, and the sacred worth of all human beings. Finally, this blog hopes to alert readers to the extreme peril faced by Christians in Syria, Iraq, Egypt, and elsewhere in the Middle East and Africa, as well as the plight of other persecuted minority religions in the region.
May God bless You, the reader. All comments are welcome.
I am in general opposed to the Ecumenical Movement, in terms of its implementation, ethos, and practical effect. I fervently support the reunification of the Christian Church, but this reunification must be accomplished on the basis of one dogmatic accord. The lowest common denominator minimalism by which the World Council of Churches hopes to achieve reunification is entirely inadequete, and when one looks at the membership trends of the major denominations outside of the Orthodox Church, one can see that active participation in the Ecumenical Movement has been profoundly destructive for those churches that have chosen to participate in it.
Being opposed to the Ecumenical Movement does not entail opposition to the reunification of Christians, however, and a good example of such a reunfication occurring outside of the Ecumenical Movement would be the reception into the Antiochian Orthodox Church of a large contingent of former evangelicals in the 1980s, under the leadership of men like Patriarch Ignatius IV, Metropolitan Philip Saliba and Peter Gilquist, all of blessed memory. Furthermore, being opposed to the Ecumenical Movement does not entail an exclusivist view of salvation; I agree with St. John Maximovitch of Shanghai and San Francisco that a loving God will not punish those who sincerely reach out to Him. I do believe that, in general, one is generally much better off as a Protestant Christian than as an atheist or a member of another religion; one would simply be still better off as a member of the Orthodox Church, which being the authentic Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, is capable of dispensing grace on a scale that significantly exceeds that of other confessions.
At its core, the Orthodox Church is filled with love, and in this environment of deep love, sacramental efficacy is a given; one can, within those Orthodox Churches that have remained true to the ancient traditions of the church, perceive the authentic holiness transmitted through the ages from Christ through his Apostles.
My great passion is the liturgy of Christianity in general. I see the Western Rite as being of vital importance to the Orthodox Church; I feel we should go beyond that, and embrace all liturgical rites that are not contrary to the Orthodox faith, or that contain elements that are inherently blasphemous (for example, liturgical dance or "Christian rock" music). However, these liturgical rites should obviously be limited to new mission parishes that use them from the start; those churches that have always worshipped with the splendid Byzantine liturgy should always continue to do so. The liturgy is timeless, and any change to the liturgy, even the minor alteration of a particular local custom at a small parish church, is a potential disaster, as is demonstrated by the alienation and persecution that resulted from the liturgical reforms of Patriarch Nikon in the 17th century, a process that is now repeating itself on a far more extreme scale in the Western heterodox churches of today.
In this blog, therefore, I hope to discuss Orthodox theology, and the great worship tradition of the Christian faith. I also hope to occasionally venture into comparative theology, that we might discuss what makes Christianity unique among the world religions, and at the same time, come to a deeper understanding as to the importance of religion in general, and the sacred worth of all human beings. Finally, this blog hopes to alert readers to the extreme peril faced by Christians in Syria, Iraq, Egypt, and elsewhere in the Middle East and Africa, as well as the plight of other persecuted minority religions in the region.
May God bless You, the reader. All comments are welcome.
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