Hospitality and The Response

I read Judges chapters 19 and 20 tonight as a follow-up to a conversation with a friend and colleague about the conventions of hospitality in the middle east. Reflecting on the passage, I’m struck first by the emphasis at the start of chapter 19 and again at the end of chapter 20 about the lack of a king. Recalling what I can about the way Saul, the first king of Israel came to that position, I think that the intent of the king of Israel is--at least on some level--to provide spiritual leadership. This is reinforced throughout the history that unfolds in the old testament where the kings of Israel are described with respect to how they did or did not uphold and/or establish the worship of God.

Within this story are two other salient storylines, the Levite’s reception in Bethlehem and Gibeah, and the treatment of his concubine. I read in the extended and manipulated hospitality of the concubines father in Bethlehem a curious parallel to Jacob’s experience with Laban when courting Rachel (Genesis 29). The hospitality the Levite received in Bethlehem sets up a foil to the experience he has in Gibeah where just one man offered hospitality, after which the men of the city lay siege to the house (offering a different parallel to the story of the angels with Lot in Sodom - Genesis 19). The man offering hospitality offers up his daughter and the Levite’s concubine in the hope of distracting the men from their purpose of raping the Levite. The scripture does not relate the fate of the man’s daughter, but the Levite’s concubine endures abuse all night and then falls dead at the door of the house the next morning. The Levite collects the body of his concubine and returns to his home, where he cuts her body into twelve pieces and sends one to each of the tribes of Judah as a witness to the incredible breach of hospitality he endured. This sets up the action in chapter twenty; Gibeah--and by extension, all the tribe of Benjamin--is identified as the perpetrators of this evil. The Benjaminites take umbrage and a battle is fought in which the Benjaminites are eventually slaughtered and the other tribes vow against allowing their daughters to marry a Benjaminite. The language of chapter twenty is curious in that it seems to pit the tribes of Judah against God when they take pity on their kin and--without recanting their oath--try to find a way to keep the tribe of Benjamin from disappearing by finding wives for the men of Benjamin elsewhere. The author of Judges, by ending the book with another comment about the lack of spiritual leadership in Israel, seems to be saying that their actions aren’t perfect, they are doing the best they can.

While this conversation started about hospitality, I wanted to tie the issue of spiritual leadership to The Response planned for August in Houston. This event (which from a cynical perspective seems to be a springboard for a Perry presidential bid) is unabashedly addressing itself to the issue of spiritual leadership. I am no stranger to the way that this trope operates in fundamental protestant thinking, having grown up in an Independent Fundamental Baptist Church. Dr. Barber’s favorite verse had to be II Chronicles 7:14; I heard it often enough from the pulpit that I can still recite it by heart (I can also repeat his story about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as loving-kindness, but that is another story). This perspective has its roots in the Puritan experiment of a “city on a hill” and the concept of Manifest Destiny. Its progeny is the prosperity gospel that is so prevalent in our time, which end seems the logical outcome of attaching divine guidance to the pursuit of material wealth.

But, like we see in the Israelites misapprehension of the purpose of a king and the price they paid for demanding Saul (I Samuel 8), I think that comparing the actual gospel to what is being preached by The Response suggests a dark and dangerous path for America. The mission of The Response, as stated on their website, is to “pray for a historic breakthrough for our country and a renewed sense of moral purpose.” The website refers to scripture (Joel 2:12) that they see addressing a parallel moral crisis. The “fasting, weeping and mourning” referenced in Joel echoes the passage in II Chronicles that I remember so well: “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sins and heal their land.”

In and of itself, this is excellent guidance. We often speak of Scripture as a history of salvation and, not surprisingly, the method that God proclaims for reconciliation does not change in that history. The Commandments of Blessedness (aka the Beatitudes), sometimes referred to as the Gospel in a nutshell, echo the same traits of humility, mourning, hunger for righteousness taught in Old Testament scriptures. But what is the “historic crisis” that The Response hopes to address? They cite economic, social, and moral peril. This is simply the culture wars of the 1980’s rehashed. Frank Schaeffer, a self-described founder of the Religious Right gives some insight to the phenomenon in his memoir Crazy for God:

The leaders of the new religious right were different from the older secular right in another way. They were gleefully betting on American failure. If secular, democratic, diverse, and pluralistic America survived, then wouldn’t that prove that we evangelicals were wrong about God only wanting to bless a "Christian America?" If, for instance, crime went down dramatically in New York City, for any other reason than a reformation and revival, wouldn’t that make the prophets of doom look silly when they said that only Jesus was the answer to our social problems? And likewise, if the economy was booming without anyone repenting, what did that mean?

p. 298-299

Schaeffer goes on to lament about how power- and money-hungry the leadership of the Christian Right became. It is this same impetus that I read in a new attempt to put a varnish of “faith” on neoconservative tendencies such as cultural imperialism, disdain for pluralism, reliance on militarism--both literally and figuratively, and emphasis on individual prosperity.

In describing themselves as an apolitical non-denominational group, The Response’s website helpfully lists seven tenets of faith. The first insists that the Bible (which version? -- the church of my youth is adamant that no one got it right until the Elizabethans) is the “inspired, the only infallible, authoritative Word of God.” In the Eastern Orthodox Christian tradition, the title “Word of God” refers exclusively (to my knowledge) to Christ, the second person of the Trinity. Curiously, the closest analogue I know of to this position of deifying scripture is the Muslim reverence for the Koran. The second tenet, professing belief in an “eternally existent” Trinity is orthodox in its formulation as is the third tenet enumerating Christ’s deity, virgin birth, sinless nature, miracles, crucifixion, resurrection and ascension and expectation of Parousia; they get fancy in inserting a Campbellite emphasis on vicarious atonement, but that is only incorrect if emphasized at the expense of a complete understanding of Christ’s salvific work. Tenets four through seven--expressing positions on the work of the Holy Spirit, universal resurrection, and brotherhood of all believers--are similarly not objectionable from an orthodox christian perspective except perhaps in emphasis. While The Response might not claim affiliation to a particular denomination, their theology is fairly narrowly defined in their emphasis.

Because the public recognizes this event as political in spite of claims to the contrary, persons of all faiths and similar cultural concerns might have interest in attending and having a seat at the table and a voice in decision-making. But the statement of faith is exclusionary; an equivalent of the question asked of the Levite in the Judges chapter 19 “Where do you come from and where are you going?” My issues with this event come down to a question of hospitality. Another “Gospel in a nutshell,” Christ’s new commandment--“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind, and all your strength and your neighbor as yourself.” (Matt. 22:40) is an instruction in properly aligning oneself vertically and horizontally. Proper alignment is not fear and an attitude of taking care of myself first. The culture wars, our modern version of the dehumanizing racism that has been a part of our American social genetic for the last four centuries, is simply an apologia for enculturated selfishness. American culture as expressed by the Christian Right is not compatible with the Gospel of Christ.

If we were truly to see a Christian revolution in America, it would entail prayer, repentance and fasting (and these under the guidance of spiritual fathers grounded in these practices as part of the life of the church). The economic prosperity and political freedoms we enjoy would be vehicles for erasing hunger and violence, easing poverty and disease. Radical Islam would have little reason to refer to America as the “Great Satan” because we would not be throwing our power, money and freedom after morally repugnant ends. Unfortunately, if we were truly to see a Christian revolution in America, it would probably be castigated as a socialist movement. (Might I suggest Georgism instead?)

"Western" Approaches to Eastern Christianity

Gordon Atkinson, aka Real Life Preacher, has become something of a celebrity in Texas Orthodox circles after having blogged about his first contact with the ancient Christian worship at St. Anthony the Great church in San Antonio, TX as part of his sabbatical leave from Covenant Baptist Church, also in San Antonio.

Reading Rev. Atkinson's description of his first visit, I was reminded of the statement of Prince Vladimir of Kiev's envoy, after visiting the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople in the late tenth century

We knew not whether we were in heaven or on earth, for surely there is no such splendor or beauty anywhere on earth. We cannot describe it to you; only this we know, that God dwells there among humans, and that their service surpasses the worship of all other places. For we cannot forget that beauty.

Seeing Orthodox worship new again through Rev. Atkinson's eyes, I was moved to tears at the overwhelming beauty of the Liturgy, as well as its strangeness to the western ear and eye. He did an outstanding job of relaying that sense of being part of something bigger than human scale, something that isn't necessarily easily comprehended by human intellect or senses, because its not intended or directed toward us.

Rev. Atkinson seems somewhat amazed at his reception and celebrity in Orthodox circles. Permitted to speculate, I think that he is seen as a convert on the brink. What we know that Rev. Atkinson might not yet understand is that once you start engaging the historic church, you either end up in an Apostolic communion, or leave Christianity altogether. We American Orthodox are particularly interested in high-profile stories of conversion because, like the consumer-driven lifestyles we lead outside of church, we are looking for celebrity endorsements of our own desires. (It's OK, go Google "Celebrity Orthodox Christians". I'll wait).

I was discussing this phenomenon with a friend several weeks ago, and we both felt that this trend was regrettable. To be clear, I'm always very happy when someone finds their way to the Orthodox church, but the emphasis on the high-profile convert seems antithetical to the conciliar heart of Orthodoxy. More to the point, the celebrity endorsement par excellence is the Pope. This economy of endorsement and reinforcement is Western in approach.

Finally, to get the point of this article (which ultimately has nothing to do with Rev. Atkinson, though he was a convenient vehicle to get to the point) is that I propose a different phraseology to delineate orthodox from non-orthodox thought. I fervently pray every day for the unification of Orthodox churches in America. I expect that this will ultimately result in an uniquely American expression of the Orthodox faith (as has been the case in Greece, Russia, Albania, Serbia, etc.). While an American church would encompass Canada and Latin America as well, certainly the United States will have a huge impact on that expression. I've long held that the U.S. is a system of government founded on economic freedom and entrepreneurship. Part of that entrepreneurship is adaptation and pastiche. U.S. culture is at its best when it has adapted and adopted beautiful cultural expression from elsewhere. I hope that an American Orthodoxy would do the same (as a very small example of this, my family has adopted the Serbian tradition of Slava to pay homage to a Christian heritage that was not Orthodox).

So, if there is to be an American Orthodoxy, it will be western, so "Western" is no longer as useful a term to denote something that is non-Orthodox. I would propose that most of what is antithetical to the Orthodox faith in western culture arises out of post-enlightenment thought, and so I'd suggest "Post-Enlightenment" as a useful substitute for "Western." Getting back to my example, a consumerist approach to celebrity "endorsement" of Orthodoxy is a post-enlightenment approach to faith. It begins in my presuppositional authority and looks for a faith that fits me, instead of my submission to objective Truth.

I'm guilty of this. My entree to Orthodoxy was Frank Schaeffer's Dancing Alone. I found it (and more importantly, read it) because Frank is Francis' son. I became intrigued by Orthodoxy because it satisfied my own longing for room in my faith tradition for the mystical. We American Orthodox, by and large, are protestant in the way that we approach the faith. We have an embarrassment of riches with respect to the number of parishes, and so we pick and choose (I like that priest, or I like the politics of this parish) where we will worship or even if we will worship (there isn't a church of my jurisdiction locally).

My hope and desire for Rev. Atkinson is that his struggles will pay dividends for his family and his church, and I hope that along the way, the blemishes of American Orthodoxy don't get in the way of simple Orthodoxy.

Comparative Religion

I wrote this in response to a thread at TexAgs.com asking whether or not the resident Christians had studied other faith traditions. Please forgive any inaccuracies I may have written below, as my study has been self-initiated and is, in all likelihood, incomplete.

In-between my formative years when my family attended first an Independent Fundamental Baptist Church (Worth Baptist, Ft. Worth), then Southern Baptist churches (Matthew Road, Grand Prairie; First Baptist, Euless) and my conversion to Orthodox Christianity, I did study Buddhism and Taoism. Growing up, I went to my best friend's synagogue (Congregation Beth Shalom, Arlington). In college I had gone from my Baptist roots (First Baptist, Bryan) to non-denominational (Grace Baptist, College Station). When my then fiance and I started talking about churches we visited churches based on her background as well (St. Thomas Episcopal, College Station). We ended up halfway between our faith backgrounds (A&M United Methodist, College Station).

Our pastor there, Buddy Walker, a Baptist convert himself, helped me start to understand issues such as infant baptism. When I brought my thoughts about Buddhism to him, he also made the point that the same Christ that said to love our enemies probably wouldn't have much problem with most of what Buddha said.

I have in the last two years done fairly extensive reading on Baha'i and Islam. What I have found in all of my reading and participation is that there seems to be something innate in most people that draws them to be part of something bigger than themselves. I concur with prof. gradoo that I'm likely to have approached all of my study through the lens of some basic "Christian" assumptions, but I've also shattered some of those assumptions along the way (e.g. OSAS, Sola Scriptura).

The assumptions that I have left are that we are intentionally created (though I don't take a dogmatic position on how or when); that Christ is God; and that our calling is to love one another. Besides Christianity, Buddhism & Taosim come the closest to providing a framework for understanding my experience. The difference for me between these two and Christ is that instead of the person being subsumed in an everythingness of Being, in Christianity, the person becomes an integral part of unity in God, but retains his personhood. For a great meditation on Lao Tzu as a pre-Christian prophet (ala Aristotle) see Christ the Eternal Tao by Fr. Damascene Christensen.

Coming to Orthodox Christianity, I struggled with some concepts (e.g. veneration of icons, the role of the Theotokos, confession) more than others that were more familiar in my upbringing (e.g. the Trinity). What I discovered is that while there is a wealth of texts and traditions in Christianity, so too there are a wealth in other faith traditions as well. This is, finally, what I think faith is. I decided that I would trust Christ's word that he had established a temporal church and that it would persist (Matt. 16:18) and be led by God into all Truth (John 16:13). Along with trusting that Christ’s church existed and persisted to our times and had preserved Christ’s teachings intact and unaltered, I had to trust that those things which I didn’t cognitively understand would be made clear.

With respect to the comparative religion, I don’t disbelieve Judaism but think that Orthodox Christianity is a fulfillment of the Law and Prophets in Christ (and Judaism post-Javneh has a flavor of damage control for the “Christian problem”). Islam is a radical monotheistic reaction to Christianity. Baha’i is a universalist reformation of Islam. Buddhism/Taoism, like many pre-Christian religions (including Native American religion and Zoroastrianism) reveal mystical truths which are fully revealed in Christ. I’ve not studied Confucianism, Hinduism, Jainism, or Sikhism in any depth past casual reading. Confucianism is more of an system of ethics than a faith, and as such isn’t necessarily at odds with Christianity. In the case of Hinduism and Jainism, I think that multiple gods and/or ancestor worship can be influenced by evil spirits and/or point to later, more fully revealed truths in Christianity. Sikhism also points to a “Universal God,” which is beyond human ken…also has the ability to be interpreted as fulfilled through the Trinitarian understanding we have of God as uncreated and outside of time.

The bottom line to comparative religion for me is a truth that I discovered in Orthodoxy (it certainly wasn’t an aspect of the Evangelism Explosion training I received in the Baptist Church) is that I am called to focus on my own salvation, to work that out in “fear and trembling” (Phil. 2:12) and not worry about what someone else is or isn’t doing, but to love them as icons of Christ.

Theocracy Now?

Email forwards continue to be the most invigorating source of response that will spill over here. Yes, I did make it into 2007 (for those that were worried). It's just been an especially busy start to the year what with group review, the impending arrival of Baby K, work, school, and being named a 2007 Fish Camp namesake (!!!).

Today I received a message with a link to the Diamond Rio video for "In God We Still Trust." A particular lyric stuck out because it was the subject of conversation ending our parish's annual Meatfare Sunday BBQ lunch. Diamond Rio puts it this way, "There's no separation...we're one nation under Him," after first describing the fact that God's name is on our "most important" monuments and on our money. I had already intended to post my thoughts deriving from the lunch conversation, which started by talking about Mitt Romney and his chances for garnering the GOP nod.

My position was that, Romney's Mormon background notwithstanding, we've seen enough evidence from neocons in positions of power and enough blind support for the current administration's consolidation of power to believe that there is a sizable contingent that wouldn't mind dismantling our government to establish a theocracy. Even if the Southern Baptist vote wouldn't swing for Romney (I'm not sure that it wouldn't, and that it would matter if it didn't), it's far less likely that the Baptists with whom I grew up would vote for a Catholic candidate than a Mormon one.

As if to prove my point, one young gentleman joined the conversation by indicating that ours is a Christian nation (at least that's what I thought he said). I started to talk about the economic reasons for emigration to the U.S. and the myth of a Christian agenda on the part of the founding fathers. He quickly interrupted and noted that he understood that we didn't start off that way, but that he hoped we would become a Christian nation. We discussed for a moment, the relative benefits of living in a system that promotes your particular moral and social code, and both agreed that there isn't a better system than what we enjoy now, whatever work might still need to be done. I further pointed out that his suggestion that we become a Christian nation and prohibit public practice of other religions (if acted upon) constitued treason and is the very thing that our armed forces are sworn to protect against. Amazingly, he thoughtfully agreed.

Before hearing Diamond Rio's song, I wasn't sure how representative this young man's position might be, but I'm afraid that we're worse off than I imagined. I'm afraid that since we've allowed our democratic participation to be commodified, people are treating it as a luxury. Though my experience with the U.S. military has helped bring me to a conclusion that all war and preparation for war is at odds with a Christian worldview, I think that mandatory military service would force people to become more invested in the process...and it would certainly cool the urge to surge.