I'm Just Curious - Why Are you Not Orthodox?

A cyber-friend of many years has posted in his blog a provocative question: Why are you not Catholic? He's apparently not looking to "sell" anyone on why he (a former Lutheran pastor & former Traditional Anglican priest) is now a Roman Catholic layman. He's just curious. So am I. So I read the responses.

I'm also curious why certain persons are not Orthodox. You see, when my father asked me why I was considering Orthodoxy, I gave a host of theological reasons. And when my wife and eldest daughters and various friends asked the same, I again gave a number of theological arguments. But in the end, when I finally determined that I had to become Orthodox, the reason was fairly simple.

"Because I think it's right for you," is what I told my father days after I resigned my Lutheran parish. And I said the same thing again when he (and my mother and siblings) asked again last Thanksgiving. "Because it's right for you." My dad's still a bit stumped by the answer, but it's the answer that communicates everything I think is necessary and important.

And because I think being Orthodox is right for you, I'm curious why you're not. In other words, I guess I'm asking for the obverse of the usual "journey story."

So here's the question (with apologies to "Bob Catholic"):

For those who are not a member of the Orthodox Church,
(that is Roman Catholic, Anglican, Lutheran, or generic Protestant)
what is keeping you?
What are the reasons why you are not a Orthodox?

For those who have left the Church, I'd like to hear from you as well.
Why aren't you Orthodox any longer?

Add your voice via the comments. But please, limit yourself to the question and do not degenerate into ad hominem attacks.

Like "Bob Catholic," I'll step aside and not comment on the comments.

St Peter Chrysologus on St John the Baptizer

That blessed John was the messenger to the messengers of Christ, the witness to his witnesses, and the foremost of his promoters, we have frequently mentioned in our preaching. Then why is it that the messenger asks a question, the witness is in doubt, and the promoter is lacking in knowledge? Are you the One who is to come, or do we wait for another? (Mt 11.3) John, you perfect man, are you asking whether he is the Christ who is to come, when while you were still within your mother’s womb you announced that he had already come?

John, there are your words: “Behold, the Lamb of God; behold him who takes away the sins of the world.” And when he submitted to be baptized by your hands, you said: “I ought to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?” Are you not the one who heard amidst the waters of the Jordan the voice of the Father resounding from heaven: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased”? You certainly were the only human being who saw the Holy Spirit come down in bodily form from heaven upon him. You are the one who grasped the Father with your ears, the Son with your hands, and the Holy Spirit with your eyes at one and the same moment in an unparalleled manifestation of power.

And after this you ask whether he is the Christ or whether there is another who is to come?

…

We are disturbed, John, we who sing your praises are disturbed… So give an answer, John, assist yourself and assist us; say why you who used to have knowledge sent them to ask a question.

Let us pay attention, brothers, let us pay attention more in-depth attention, and let us listen to the answer John gives here not only with our ears, but also with our hearts. John says: “If while I was still in the womb I instantly announced that Christ was going to be born, now after hearing of his works, works which attest to his divinity, have I plunged into the waves of doubt? Far from it!

“This is the reason form my question: my disciples, who had seen my good reputation, who had admired my life, who had heard me impose penance, forgive sins, and promise that the kingdom of heaven was arriving in him who was to come, were so prepared to be bound with chains, to live in prison with me, to share my punishments, and to become my partners with me in death, that they failed to see my Lord, for whom I had prepared them. They were following the teacher of penitence so closely that they were neglecting the Giver of grace; on account of ignorance they considered themselves mine to such an extent that they were unaware that the servant’s property belongs to his Master.

“So I sent them out, in order to put heavenly goods before them, to lead them to divine ones, to hand them over to God, to return them to the Creator. I sent them, so that by his works they would affirm that he was the Christ about whom they had heard my words, and so that my [disciples] would not be lost to my Lord with my passing away. I sent them to him who knew very well why I sent them. I sent them to the One who probes the heart; I sent them to the One who judges thoughts. I sent them to him who was in me and with me. I sent them so that by recognizing his divinity by means of his works, they would not find his humanity to be a stumbling block. I sent them, so that gazing upon his humanity would not disturb them who could not but be strengthened by the signs of his divine powers.

“And so the Lord, who knew why I sent them, responded with his works before he did with words.”

Source: The Fathers of the Church, Volume 110. St Peter Chrysologus Selected Sermons, Volume 3. Translated by William B. Palardy (Washington DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2005), pp. 355-356.

Is it Really Worth It?

The following is an excerpt from the sermon preached today at Holy Incarnation Antiochian Orthodox Christian Church. Using the propers for Gregorian Use parishes in the Western Rite Vicariate, the sermon is based on the Gospel reading for the Second Sunday of Advent.



You might take comfort in thinking that St John the Baptizer had his doubts; that when he was in prison, his strength of spirit and strength of faith began to waver. You might think that this makes St John “more human”—which means that you can identify with him because he’s more like you: susceptible to doubts, prone to weakness, able to stumble. You might think that if we see St John faltering, then he is more real, common, everyday—and not on some pedestal. And, in some perverse way, that makes us feel better—not better about St John, but better about ourselves; that it’s okay that we stumble and falter and waver and doubt.

For how often do we falter and waver and doubt? How often do we wonder about what good our religion does us; about whether the fuss of fasting and the sacrifice of self-denial is really worth while and necessary—especially when all our coworkers are partying. And how often do we wonder about whether it’s practical, realistic or necessary to wrestle with the kids so long and so often in church—especially when all that wrestling seems a waste of time because we feel like we get so little from going to church. And how often do we wonder about the good of praying at a set time, or even taking the time to pray—especially when not praying doesn’t seem to hurt us, and we’re not so sure God truly cares, or hears, or helps? We are prone to believe that we’re usually just going through the motions, and that these motions are taking us nowhere and getting us nothing.

And so we hear the story of St John the Baptizer, we hear the question he asks Jesus, and we hear it as the strong becoming weak, the mighty hero faltering, the prophet losing faith—and we feel better. Not necessarily because his question is our question. But because we often find comfort in other people’s misery. Because we revel in Schadenfreude. Because St John comes down to our level, and then in some queer way we can sympathize with what he seems to be going through; we can relate. And as we’re relating, we hear St John say aloud what we often think—“Is this all worth it? Is it worth the time and effort? Is it worth the sacrifice and expense? Do we really get ahead by playing by all these church rules, by explaining our eating habits, by risking ridicule or hard questions, by disciplining our routine and words, by bundling everyone one up and trudging off to church once again?”

The answer, of course, is yes. Yes, it’s worth every sacrifice—every penny, every minute, every hassle, every strange look, every delayed or denied gratification. It’s all worth it—but not because hanging tough, doing the time, and making the sacrifice finally gets us the reward we’re after. For that’s looking at it backwards. Just like thinking St John is today “more human” is looking at things backwards. For in both of those instances—in following the rules hoping for a payoff, and in dragging St John down to our level—in both of those instances, we’re still focusing on ourselves: our fears, our feelings, our perspective, our doubts, our questions, and how much we feel we have to do to finally make it all worthwhile.

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Devouring the Advent Fast

"Christmas has devoured Advent."

So declares Joseph Bottum, editor of FIRST THINGS in an article entitled "The End of Advent" appearing in the December 2007 issue. His argument is that the scurrying, the buying, the partying and various other commercializings and celebratings have not only threatened the true meaning of Chirstmass, but have also destroyed the time of preparation.

Advent prepares for Christmass. And, as Bottom rightly notes, it prepares as all true spiritual preparations prepare: by offering a discipline so that the celebration may its rightful place and thereby be truly celebratory. "What Advent is, really, is a discipline: a way of forming anticipation and channeling it toward its goal."

The goal, of course, is the celebration of the Nativity of Our Lord. And that celebration is not merely another annual marker. That celebration is a spiritual participation in one facet of our salvation.

One might think that spiritual participations suggest spiritual celebrations which, in turn, necessitate nothing more than spiritual preparations. In other words, keep the spirit of Christmass mentally, internally, in the private of your prayer closet; but that doesn't have to constrict joining in the modern pre-Christmass activities (which often anticipate Christmass by having Christmass, or portions of Christmass, early). But that's a platonic "eat your cake and have it too" attitude.

Bottum is quite correct in his analysis; especially when he suggests that Christmass' "setting in the church year" requires Advent's season of self-discipline.

The Jesse trees and the Advent calendars, St. Martin’s Fast and St. Nicholas’ Feast, Gaudete Sunday, the childless crèches, the candle wreaths, the vigil of Christmas Eve: They give a shape to the anticipation of the season. They discipline the ideas and emotions that otherwise would shake themselves to pieces, like a flywheel wobbling wilder and wilder till it finally snaps off its axle. ... Through all the preparatory readings, through all the genealogical Jesse trees, the somber candles on the wreaths, the vigils, and the hymns, Advent keeps Christmas on Christmas Day: a fulfillment, a perfection, of what had gone before.

Let me suggest, however, two other key practices: one slightly mentioned and one unmentioned. The unmentioned is discipline and restraint of setting up and decorating the Christmass tree on Christmass Eve. Let the house be bare during the preparatory season, and then festive with decorations throughout the Twelve Days of Christmass.

And the slightly mentioned practice is the discipline of regular prayer, fasting and abstention. In other words, keeping a true spiritual and physical Advent fast (or the older "St Martin's Fast"). Yet this latter discipline, more than any others, is communal; that is, it may be done individually but is greatly aided when the community of faith intentionally determines together "for a season" to consume less, both in quality as well as in quantity.

But such an Advent fast is hardly to be found. And, in fact, it has been replaced by its opposite--a devouring, gorging, gluttonous appetite. Yet is it fair, Mr Bottum, to blame this on Christ Mass?

Stir up our hearts!

The following is from tomorrow's Sunday bulletin.


The doubts that filled the disciples of St John the Baptizer often fill our own hearts, especially when we are restless, despairing, fearful or confused. Then we wonder if Christ is truly our hope and salvation, or if we should look elsewhere. Our behavior often betrays our tendency to find solace, purpose and comfort in other “saviors.” It is fitting, then, that we hear both Our Lord’s answer and the counsel of the Holy Apostle Paul. Our Lord urges us to judge Him by according to His miracles, and to observe His life in the strength and virtues of the saints, beginning with St. John. And St. Paul exhorts us recall that both our Father and His Word grant the patience and comfort which gives birth to and sustains true hope in His expected mercy.

Our prayer at this Mass, then, is that Our Lord stir up our doubt-filled hearts that they may be filled with all joy and peace in believing so that we abound in hope and the power of the Holy Spirit. For with our hearts duly stirred, we are both prepared for Our Lord’s coming and enabled to serve Him with a pure mind.

The Feast of the Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary

The feast of the Virgin Mary's conception by St. Anne is kept with high regard and due devotion by Orthodox Christians in both the Western and Byzantine traditions. In the Western tradition, this feast is celebrated today (8 December); and amongst those in the Byzantine tradition, the same feast is celebrated tomorrow (9 December).

I can produce no finer summary than the following from a Synaxarion (a Byzantine liturgical book containing descriptions of various feasts and saints' days).

In accordance with the eternal purpose of God, who willed to prepare a most pure habitation for Himself in order to take flesh and dwell among men, Joachim and Anna were prevented from having children for many years. Their barren old age was symbolic of human nature itself, bowed down and dried up under the weight of sin and death, yet they never ceased begging God to take away their reproach. Now when the time of preparation determined by the Lord had been fulfilled, God sent an Angel to Joachim in solitude on a mountain, and to Anna in her affliction weeping in her garden, to tell them that the ancient prophecies were soon to be fulfilled in them: a child would be born to them, who was destined to become the veritable Ark of the new Covenant, the divine Ladder, the unburnt Bush, the living Temple where the Word of God would take up his abode. Through the conception of Saint Anna, the barrenness of human nature itself, separated from God by death, has on this day been brought to an end; and by the wondrous birth-giving of her who had remained childless until the age when women can no longer bear fruit, God announced and testified to the more astonishing miracle of the Conception without seed, and of the immaculate coming to birth of Christ within the heart and the womb of the Most Holy Virgin and Mother of God.

Even though the birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary took place through a miraculous action of God, she was conceived by the union of man and woman in accordance with the laws of our human nature, which has fallen through Adam's transgression and become subject to sin and corruption (cf. Gen. 3:16). As the chosen Vessel and precious Shrine prepared by God since the beginning of time, she is indeed the most pure and the most perfect of mankind, but even so, she has not been set apart from our common inheritance nor from the consequences of the sin of our first parents. Just as it was fitting that Christ, in order to deliver us from death by his own voluntary death (Heb. 2:14), should by His Incarnation be made like to men in all things except sin; so it was meet that His Mother, in whose womb the Word of God would unite with human nature, should be subject to death and corruption like every child of Adam, lest we not be fully included in Salvation and Redemption. The Mother of God has been chosen and preferred among all women, not arbitrarily, but because God foresaw that she would preserve her purity and keep it perfect: conceived and born like all of us, she has been worthy to become the Mother of the Son of God and the mother of us all. So, in her tenderness and compassion, she is able to intercede for us with her Son, that He may have mercy upon us.

Just as the Lord Jesus Christ was the fruit of the virginity of the holy Mother of God, so she herself was the fruit of the chastity of Joachim and Anna. And by following the same path of chastity we too, monks and Christian married people, can bring Christ to be born and grow in us.

Living Not Tied to This World

The following is an excerpt from the sermon preached today at Holy Incarnation Antiochian Orthodox Christian Church. Using the propers for Gregorian Use parishes in the Western Rite Vicariate, the sermon is based on the Gospel reading for the First Sunday of Advent.


Let us consider, then, what Our Lord is truly saying. He is not telling us to do nothing as the world implodes. In fact, Our Lord in many places urges us to help others see what we see, and believe what we believe, and live as we live. And how should we live? Not as men and women tied to the pursuits of this world; not as men and women who find the greatest happiness in the busy-ness of parties and shopping and decorating; and not as men and women whose lives are governed by gratifying our desires and satisfying whatever whims or fads we are told we must have. Rather, we are to live with the knowledge, and with the earnest belief, that this world and this world’s goods offer us nothing, do nothing for us, and bring us no true joy or happiness. We are to live as men and women who can easily walk away from everything, because in Christ we already have all things. And we are to live as men and women who understand that this world—and all its charms and all its false promises and all its excitements—this world is destined to pass away. And so we are not to live as men who try to have it all before it’s all gone, but as men who know that all we pursue is nothing, and what is to come is everything.

So Truth Himself is reminding us of the truth—the truth that the world is not your friend, and so it should not be your heart’s desire. Your heart’s desire is in what lies beyond this world, in the world to come. That is the feast you should yearn for. That is the present you should eagerly await. That is the life you should sacrifice all to attain. And for that life you should eagerly decorate your person, your children, your home and all that you have with every good work, every kindness, every icon and every symbol so that you may never forget, but always strive for, that kingdom.

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Rorate Mass - Revisited

Nearly one year ago (7 Dec 06 to be precise), I posted an entry concerning the Rorate Mass. The Rorate Mass is a votive Mass commemorating the Blessed Virgin Mary which is sung during Advent. Yet in my original entry, I indicated that this particular Mass was a favorite among German people. Both in the original and in a subsequent entry, I commended readers to information provided by Diane at Te Deum Laudamus.

A reader has lately commented on the original entry and has provided the following additional historical information. Since it is that time of year again, I thought it was fitting to post the comment in its entirety.

This old custom originates from the Territory of the former Austrian-Hungarian Monarchy. The Alternative names of the Rorate Mass in Hungary are the daybreak Mass, Angel Mass, Golden Mass or Mass of Blessed Virgin. The Rorate Masses were said in Hungary since the 12th Century. According to the Ordo Stigonienis these early morning Masses were said in white. If it was a Solemn Mass, the Gloria and Credo were also sung. This special privilege was kept after the introducing the Tridentine Rite, as a Hungarian custom. After Vatican II these Mass are said in purple. In Hungary traditionally these Masses were started in the dark at 6:00 am and finished after sunrise. This custom is continued in lot of Hungarian Churches, which are usually full on these mornings. Young people likes to go there and they are competing who can go to more Rorate Mass. This is a very nice practice of virtue.

Advent as Spiritual Preparation

The following is from tomorrow's Sunday bulletin.


It is fitting that we begin the new liturgical year as we ended the previous year: by hearing of our Lord’s final coming. By itself, such a dire warning should evoke in each Christian a desire for true repentance, for increased prayer, and for earnest re-commitment to live godly. Those desires, however, should be further heightened by the realization that on this day we also begin preparing for the annual celebration of Our Lord’s Nativity.

Our desires and preparations ought to lead us, then, to “put on the armor of light” (Epistle) not simply by adding a few extra moments of reflection or prayer to our daily routine; but also by making “no provision for the flesh, to fulfill its desires.” The discipline of denying whatever gratifies and pleases us, and instead pursuing chiefly those things that promote the spiritual welfare of others (and thereby ourselves)—this is spiritual preparation for Christ Mass. Such spiritual preparation ought to take priority over any material preparations that society encourages. For what good is our celebration if our hearts are not truly prepared; and if our attention is solely or mostly on things that gain us nothing in the life to come?

Let us pray both in this Mass and throughout Advent that Our Lord would stir up our hearts that they may be truly prepared for the coming of His Son, our Savior Jesus Christ.

The Advent Fast Has Begun

Those who may be interested in a brief description of the practical application of the Advent Fast this year, as this fast is followed in among Orthodox in the Western tradition, are directed here.