11 posts tagged “orthodoxy”

It's amazing how big the world can still be. Becoming Orthodox has opened me to a near-inexhaustible library of astounding and propounding -- and indeed holy -- literature, both ancient and contemporary (seeing as how the contemporary is also ancient, given its infinite source), as well as in book and blog form. A great example would be Fr. John Tobias' review of David Bentley Hart's new book, Atheist Delusions, a book I have been so eager to read that I'm contemplating pushing back my next summer reading book back a slot. Few, if any, match Hart's eloquence in writing and wit, but Fr. Tobias doesn't leave his readers wanting.

Consider the following passage, in which Fr. Tobias clarifies Hart's thesis, for anyone who may have thought Atheist Delusions could or should be boiled down to "a sure bet in a back alley cockfight with the "new atheists." 

His proposition was that the Christian Church brought about a profound revolution, whose effects permeated the world of human society. It established what is facilely known as "Christendom" (West and East): everyone knows that, but Hart proves that what we like to think of as "the West" is fundamentally this very Christendom – despite the current and odious attempt to establish a secular singular Europe. All the liberal things we are justly proud of are in fact Christian inventions; to name just a few: things like hospitals, effective medicine, justice for the powerless, "healthcare and welfare," the prohibition of gladiatorial combat, the eradication of slavery, the full involvement of women in religion (suggesting that the male priesthood contradicts the full participation of women in Orthodoxy is as lamentable as supposing that female motherhood diminishes the participation of males in parenthood, or that female wifehood prohibits the full range of male sexuality).

That last point sounds abrupt in a bozart age when "full participation" has been jingo-ized into hieretical affirmative action. But Christianity was the first to involve all adherents – rich or poor, slave or free, men or women, Greek, Roman and Jew – cramming them all into one single Liturgy and Sacrament, the same font and cup, the same nave. The question of "why can't I be the celebrant?" was never related to St. Paul's "in Christ there is no Jew nor Greek, male or female, slave nor free."

The Christian Revolution went deeper than political enfranchisement, thank God. And thus, all the conservative things, too, that we cherish are at least fulfilled in Christianity, if not inaugurated at the Cross and Pentecost. Truth and the infinite, the beautiful and the good were wrested out of the heave-ho tides of cultural philosophies and political cults. They were solidified, even "realized" (if one wants to sound hackneyed) in the Holy Tradition catapulted by the Third Person and the Apostles. 

He has a good deal more to say on that subject and others, touching on even the recent (and suddenly receded) wave of hero worship around our new president. I found this part particularly enjoyable and insightful:

I am glad this book came along when it did, because I was down in the dumps about history and all that – contemporary history, that is, like right now. I wasn't so sad about Obama winning, nor was I very glad. I saw the hoopla all last year, and what brought me by the lee was not that the country is turning socialist (which it's not), or that the masses adulating Obama were like the despotic pep rallies of the Thirties (which they are not). Obama's rallies were more like revival meetings (very familiar to me) and nothing at all like an Amway or Falangista gathering, or any other such synaxis of troglodytes.

But Obama's revival meetings, like all revival meetings, are bound to grow cold and clammy at the press of real tomorrow. Time itself proves too great a challenge for all Protestant endeavors, especially including the fervent myths choreographed by the Democratic Party.

That is not the cause of my diffuse woe. There is nothing new about Democratic disillusionment (for therapy, they should read about Claudius' disillusionment with the Senate). I grieve, rather, for the ongoing illusionment of the Republicans and all who are "right." The divide between authentic conversativism – the sort envisioned by Russell Kirk, T. S. Eliot and the Inklings, Richard Weaver and the Agrarians – and the current dreck of right-wing, neo-cheney-con, evangelo-babbulo palinitism is getting more like the gulf between Lazarus and rich man … that is, after the tables were turned. I grieve that Chesterton and Belloc would be certainly damned as socialists and communists by His Cigarness, the Grand Poobah, and His Minister of Michael Scott Impersonation, Dreck of Fox. Already, "distributism" is thrown here and there as a curseword. I would worry for GK and Hillaire more were it not for the sorry fact that they are not read, if they are known at all.

The whole piece, while admittedly I don't quite grasp it all, is quite intriguing, and makes me only more eager to read Hart's book. Can The Brothers Karamozov really stand to be pushed back?

Last wave goodbye

One year ago today I boarded a train to France and stared blankly out the glass at what I felt could have been my best possible life. Chris, Jana, Fridolin. Max. Vienna, Austria. All of it about to float backwards as the compartment doors sealed and gears rattled and shifted. I could have stood up, screamed NO! thrown my bags out of the car and never left. Yes, I could have stayed there. There are days yet I wonder if I shouldn't have. 

I think politics should call, not for hope and belief, but for love and, as an extension, justice. Even though politics has failed often, here it has succeed on a few occasions.The Emancipation Proclamation comes immediately to mind as one of these. The Byzantine Empire is another. The freeing of the serfs another.

For these things, I am usually optimistic in this age.

Particularly in America. Here, I call no politician “Father,” and I am not expected to -- despite the tragically ludicrous spectacle of talk show hosts and heterodox pulpits caterwauling like the prophets of Baal. I don’t believe in politics. I engage in it, but I don’t believe in it: and there is a big difference between those two meanings. I do not worship Caesar, and I am generally pleased that American politics expects me to be critical and well-read. It expects me to learn our history and our civic ways. It expects me to think through fuzzy labels and to reject any world-bound enthusiasm.

To be fair, American politics expects me to love God first, and from that love to love, patriotically, the people and the land.

I call no man Father, because in that trenchant remark, Jesus Christ, Who said that no man is Good, reminded us that there is only One Father to believe in.

So I do. And I will keep calling my dad “Father,” and my bishop “Father” and my priest “Father,” but I do not burden them with belief and hope that they cannot fulfill.

I will respect my new President and the new Congress. I will criticize them more than the humans I call “Father.” They need my criticism, and I can dish it out with zest and meaning only if I do not put my faith in them. I will be their loyal opposition, their intercessor, their encourager and indeed, their prophet. 

I must be, since I am Orthodox you know. Orthodoxy is a constant memory of Paradise: and this world – including government – must be judged according to that fundament and that goal.

We’ve seen it all -- caesarism, tsarism, the caliphate, classical tyrants, demonic tyrants (ironically located in the secular 20th century), democracies (which are really not democracies but republics), and the present commercial-socialist state.

Democracy is nice, but it is not the only thing. We are not used to voting and we really do not understand it yet. But we will vote, and we Orthodox will vote all over the chart. We seek love and justice in different – not contradictory – ways. Orthodox will vote for McCain. Orthodox will vote for Obama. A few will vote for Messrs. Barr, Paul and Nader. Some will abstain.

But we all must partake of a little gentle anarchism, where we reject any notion of secular millenarianism. We must all remember Paradise, and forget about the hackneyed Rapture-theory but remember instead the actual “man of lawlessness,” whom the Lord is restraining through us.

We must all hope for the best, work for justice and peace, and plant a garden, take care of our family and our animals, keep our friends and stay true. We must extend our ties of kindness.

Read it all here.

I think evil is always small, and that good is infinite. Evil closes itself to God and thus becomes even smaller; Good opens itself to God and thus becomes infinite. Evil cannot become so large as to fill even the universe. God became so small that He could fill Hell and then burst it asunder because it could not contain Him. Every good deed will have eternal remembrance, but even the largest deeds of the evil will be forgotten.
-- Fr. Stephen

St. Ignatius of Antioch

Orthodoxy is still very much unknown in the Americas. It's growing quickly, however, and in many places right under the noses of those who snub it as an off-shoot of Roman Catholic legalism (as many like to caricaturize). But the life of the Church is vivid and full of grace. For instance, this weekend I attended liturgy amid the idyllic hills of Franklin, TN, in the small chapel of St. Ignatius. The church was nearly bursting with country folk, most of whom seemed to be coverts from Baptist or other American traditions.

For those interested, below you can read a short explanation of Orthodox Christianity. I pulled this from the Orthodoxy in America website, which is a wonderful database of Orthodox Churches around the United States, and a wealth of information on the Church Herself. Clicking on the link above will take you to the article below, along with several more links to articles discussing various aspects (some dealing with more controversial matters) of the faith.

he Orthodox Church was founded by our Lord Jesus Christ and is the living manifestation of His presence in the history of the mankind. The most conspicuous characteristics of Orthodoxy are its rich liturgical life and its faithfulness to the apostolic tradition. It is believed by Orthodox Christians that their Church has preserved the tradition and continuity of the ancient Church in its fullness compared to other Christian denominations which have departed from the common tradition of the Church of the first 10 centuries. Today the Orthodox Church numbers approximately 300 million Christians who follow the faith and practices that were defined by the first seven ecumenical councils. The word orthodox ("right belief and right glory") has traditionally been used, in the Greek-speaking Christian world, to designate communities, or individuals, who preserved the true faith (as defined by those councils), as opposed to those who were declared heretical. The official designation of the church in its liturgical and canonical texts is "the Orthodox Catholic Church" (gr. catholicos = universal).
The Orthodox Church is a family of "autocephalous" (self governing) churches, with the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople holding titular or honorary primacy as primus inter pares (the first among equals). The Orthodox Church is not a centralized organization headed by a pontiff. The unity of the Church is rather manifested in common faith and communion in the sacraments and no one but Christ himself is the real head of the Church. The number of autocephalous churches has varied in history. Today there are many: the Church of Constantinople (Istanbul), the Church of Alexandria (Egypt), the Church of Antioch (with headquarters in Damascus, Syria), and the Churches of Jerusalem, Russia, Serbia, Romania, Bulgaria, Georgia, Cyprus, Greece, Poland, Czechlands and Slovak, Albania and America

There are also "autonomous" churches (retaining a token canonical dependence upon a mother see) in Sinai, Crete, Finland, Japan, China and Ukraine. In addition there is also a large Orthodox Diaspora scattered all over the world and administratively divided among various jurisdictions (dependencies of the above mentioned autocephalous churches). The first nine autocephalous churches are headed by patriarchs, the others by archbishops or metropolitans. These titles are strictly honorary as all bishops are completely equal in the power granted to them by the Holy Spirit.

The order of precedence in which the autocephalous churches are listed does not reflect their actual influence or numerical importance. The Patriarchates of Constantinople, Alexandria, and Antioch, for example, present only shadows of their past glory. Yet there remains a consensus that Constantinople's primacy of honor, recognized by the ancient canons because it was the capital of the ancient Byzantine empire, should remain as a symbol and tool of church unity and cooperation. Modern pan-Orthodox conferences were thus convoked by the ecumenical patriarch of Constantinople. Several of the autocephalous churches are de facto national churches, by far the largest being the Russian Church; however, it is not the criterion of nationality but rather the territorial principle that is the norm of organization in the Orthodox Church.

In the wider theological sense "Orthodoxy is not merely a type of purely earthly organization which is headed by patriarchs, bishops and priests who hold the ministry in the Church which officially is called "Orthodox." Orthodoxy is the mystical "Body of Christ," the Head of which is Christ Himself (see Eph. 1:22-23 and Col. 1:18, 24 et seq.), and its composition includes not only priests but all who truly believe in Christ, who have entered into the Church He founded, those living upon the earth and those who have died in the Faith and in piety."

The Great Schism between the Eastern and the Western Church (1054) was the culmination of a gradual process of estrangement between the east and west that began in the first centuries of the Christian Era and continued through the Middle Ages. Linguistic and cultural differences, as well as political events, contributed to the estrangement. From the 4th to the 11th century, Constantinople, the center of Eastern Christianity, was also the capital of the Eastern Roman, or Byzantine, Empire, while Rome, after the barbarian invasions, fell under the influence of the Holy Roman Empire of the West, a political rival. In the West theology remained under the influence of St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430) and gradually lost its immediate contact with the rich theological tradition of the Christian East. In the same time the Roman See was almost completely overtaken by Franks.

Theological differences could have probably been settled if there were not two different concepts of church authority. The growth of Roman primacy, based on the concept of the apostolic origin of the Church of Rome which claimed not only titular but also jurisdictional authority above other churches, was incompatible with the traditional Orthodox ecclesiology. The Eastern Christians considered all churches as sister churches and understood the primacy of the Roman bishop only as primus inter pares among his brother bishops. For the East, the highest authority in settling doctrinal disputes could by no means be the authority of a single Church or a single bishop but an Ecumenical Council of all sister churches. In the course of time the Church of Rome adopted various wrong teachings which were not based in the Tradition and finally proclaimed the teaching of the Pope's infallibility when teaching ex cathedra. This widened the gap even more between the Christian East and West. The Protestant communities which split from Rome in the course of centuries diverged even more from the teaching of the Holy Fathers and the Holy Ecumenical Councils.

Due to these serious dogmatic differences the Orthodox Church is not in communion with the Roman Catholic and Protestant communities. Some Orthodox theologians do not recognize the ecclesial and salvific character of these Western churches at all, while others accept that the Holy Spirit acts to a certain degree within these communities although they do not possess the fullness of grace and spiritual gifts like the Orthodox Church. Many Orthodox theologians are of the opinion that between Orthodoxy and heterodox confessions, especially in the sphere of spiritual experience, the understanding of God and salvation, there exists an ontological difference which cannot be simply ascribed to cultural and intellectual estrangement of the East and West but is a direct consequence of a gradual abandonment of the sacred tradition by heterodox Christians.

At the time of the Schism of 1054 between Rome and Constantinople, the membership of the Eastern Orthodox Church was spread throughout the Middle East, the Balkans, and Russia, with its center in Constantinople, the capital of the Byzantine Empire, which was also called New Rome. The vicissitudes of history have greatly modified the internal structures of the Orthodox Church, but, even today, the bulk of its members live in the same geographic areas. Missionary expansion toward Asia and emigration toward the West, however, have helped to spread the presence of Orthodoxy worldwide. Today, the Orthodox Church is present almost everywhere in the world and is bearing witness of true, apostolic and patristic tradition to all peoples.

The Orthodox Church is well known for its developed monasticism. The uninterrupted monastic tradition of Orthodox Christianity can be traced from the Egyptian desert monasteries of the 3rd and 4th centuries. Soon monasticism had spread all over the Mediterranean basin and Europe: in Palestine, Syria, Cappadocia, Gaul, Ireland, Italy, Greece and Slavic countries. Monasticism has always been a beacon of Orthodoxy and has made and continues to make a strong and lasting impact on Orthodox spirituality.

The Orthodox Church today is an invaluable treasury of the rich liturgical tradition handed down from the earliest centuries of Christianity. The sense of the sacred, the beauty and grandeur of the Orthodox Divine Liturgy make the presence of heaven on earth live and intensive. Orthodox Church art and music have a very functional role in liturgical life and help even the bodily senses to feel the spiritual grandeur of the Lord's mysteries. Orthodox icons are not simply beautiful works of art which have certain aesthetic and didactic functions. They are primarily the means through which we experience the reality of the Heavenly Kingdom on earth. The holy icons enshrine the immeasurable depth of the mystery of Christ's Incarnation in defense of which thousands of martyrs sacrificed their lives.

The past several weeks at St. Michael's has proven to be a veritable exposé of cultural and intellectual delights. Two weeks ago it hosted its annual Institute, a weekend full of interesting and stimulating lectures. This year's topic was "The Earth is the Lord's: Environmentalism and Stewardship in God's Creation". I came away thoroughly stimulated by what went on those two days. As I listened to the lectures and then the discussion and Q&A sessions afterwards, I had an overwhelming feeling of joy. I had read before that Orthodoxy is a religion for ALL people, not just the intellectual, the romantically-minded, etc. but for everyone, and after those sessions I truly felt that way. People from all walks of life were standing up and engaging with these speakers, sometimes debating, sometimes affirming and inquiring, but no one was shot down and everyone's voice was heard and taken as valid. Sometime soon everyone should be able to access the lectures and Q&A on Ancient Faith Radio, so I'll be sure to call your attention to it.

This past weekend the Church hosted "A Taste of St. Michael's", and expo on the presence of the Church itself in the city. There was delicious ethnic foods created from our multi-national membership, tours of the church, a small "concert" of liturgical music, and ethic music and dancing. Between dances, they also were showing clips from a nice little film on the Holy Cross Monastery in West Virgnia. 

Tonight after Vespers we were treated to an amazing vocal display via the Konevets of St. Petersburg, Russia. They're currently on tour, and ended up at St. Michael's more or less by happenstance. They sang a little with us during Vespers, and then after another delicious dinner full of ethnic foods, they sang several liturgical hymns and belted out quite a few Russian folk melodies. Here's a taste:

The Incarnation is not only and idea or doctrine; it is above all an event which happened once in time but which possesses all the power of eternity. This perpetual Incarnation, a perfect, indissoluble union -- yet without confusion -- of the two natures, divine and human, makes the Church. Since the Lord did not merely approach humanity but became one with it, Himself becoming man, the Church is the Body of Christ, as a unity of life with Him, a life subordinate to Him and His authority.

The Church, in her quality of Body of Christ, which lives with the life of Christ, is by that fact the domain where the Holy Spirit lives and works. The Church is life by the Holy Spirit, because it is the Body of Christ.

The Church is the work of the Incarnation of Christ; it is the Incarnation itself. God takes unto Himself human nature, and human nature assumes divinity: it is the deification of human nature, the result of union of the two natures of Christ.

The Church then is the Body of Christ. Through the Church we participate in the divine life of the Holy Trinity; it is life in the Holy Spirit by which we become children of the Father and which cries in our souls, "Abba, Father!" and which reveals to us the Christ living in us. That is why, before attempting and definition of the Church manifested in history, we ought to understand the Church as a sort of divine fixed quantiy living in itself and comparable only with itself, as the will of God manifesting itself in the world.

The essence of the Church is the divine life, revealing itself in the life of the creature; it is the deification of the creature by the power of the Incarnation and of Pentecost.

Excerpts from Sergius Bulgakov's The Orthodox Church, chapter 1

My journey into Orthodoxy has been really good so far. For about two months now I've been attending services regularly, going on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and sometimes Saturdays for Vespers, then on Sundays to what they call "Divine Liturgy." I guess part of their reason for such an auspicious title is due to the heavenly air you're drawn into during the liturgy. I think the story goes that when the original Russians to convert to Orthodoxy first attended the Divine Liturgy, he exclaimed afterwards that he couldn't tell during the service whether he was in heaven or still on earth. I think that's the whole ethos behind Orthodox worship: trying to foster an environment in which God and man truly meet. I surprise even myself in how much attend the services. Somehow I sense they nourish me in a way that I've long not apprehended in Church.

 I had a long conversation the other day with a friend who is very concerned about my leaning toward Orthodoxy. I think some of the language of the "One Church" Orthodoxy often espouses really turned him off. He found it arrogant, and unrepresentative of the Whole Church, that which encompasses the Catholics, Orthodox, and various Protestant groups. Are we not all Christians; do we not all possess the Holy Spirit? The conversation reminded me of another I had with a friend some months ago when thoughts of Orthodoxy were first hatching in my brain. I remember she wondered why I wasn't simply content to seek after a Church experience that was more "ecumenical". Since I've started the process of becoming Orthodox, I've heard this very word used a lot, but in a different context. Could it be that Protestants and Orthodox approach ecumenicity from different paradigms? That is, they each have their own history and demons to address? Protestants today seem to be still trying to live down the incontrovertible contradiction to the prayer of Christ for his followers to be one (John 17), as he and Father God are one, i.e. for the Bride to stand undivided and fully in communion. Yet there are thousands of various Protestant branches of Christianity in the United States alone, with a history of splits hardly reminiscent of Christ's prayer. So when my friend suggested that I be concerned with something more ecumenical than the Orthodox Church, perhaps she was speaking from an understanding of Christianity as split, broken and greatly injured by all the pompous talk of Christian orthodoxy among Protestant groups in past centuries, which even led to war and anything but Christ-like behavior. For most of my Christian life, I've thought of the Church in a similar fashion, and have sought a community that humbly acknowledges its lack of monopoly on Truth, which accepts other communions as valid and capable of bringing to the table something of Christ. For too long have Protestant groups suffered to eat the bitter fruit of intolerance, arrogance, and condemnation, as if one were right and all others wrong and worthy of hellfire. Now, we see the mainlines, evangelicals, and "emergents" standing against these demons of the past by accepting, and as best they can, embracing other Christian communions, striving to emphasize they've no monopoly on truth -- that they're just as ignorant as everyone else. For a long time, this was encouraging to me, and still is to some degree, but I've come to think that by their very insistence on remaining separate from each other (for how could they tangibly merge?), it's hard not to suspect that they still hold something over others, even in spite of themselves. Hence, what ensues is the imprecise nature of worship, of doctrine, of orthopraxy, as they are so many options, the catcall of 21st century, I suppose. The freedom to drift.

I think Orthodoxy looks understands "ecumenical" entirely differently. While they acknowledge Protestants and Roman Catholics as Christians, as having the deposit of the Holy Spirit, they nevertheless are very concerned about the fractured state of the Church, and their answer for it is not simply to accept all as equally valid, but rather to have a continual renewal and return to our Christian roots, founded expressly in the Bible, the primitive Church, and the ecumenical councils of the first millennium after Christ. It was in this period that the Church truly was one, and Orthodoxy strives to remain as close to the source as possible. Hence, they understand the word "ecumenical" as foundational, via the seven ecumenical councils that established all the vital doctrines we Christians as a whole still affirm, though admittedly with less and less conviction as some branches of the faith grow lose touch with their roots. Tragically, the second millennium saw the Great Schism between the Church east and west, then the Protestant Reformation, which turned from earnest reform to a ballistic splintering, the break of Anglicanism from traditional Catholicism, and then of course in the last century a veritable captivity of the mind of the Church by what is Modern (i.e. contemporary) and now, post-Modern, in all its nebulous grandeur. In the face of all this, "ecumenical", say the Orthodox, cannot mean merely embracing and validating all the thousands of shards the Church now represents, but seeking silence before God, first of all, and as humbly as possible (in a world that reviles any claim on truth) exhort all believers -- Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestants alike -- to return to our Christian roots, in which life truly meant God, and Church was truly the undivided Body of Christ, as Christ is member to the undivided Godhead. I think I'm coming to believe, as the Orthodox Church teaches, that the faith has been most beautifully and faithfully preserved in Orthodoxy, and that within her bounds the impediments imposed upon the Christ's body, and all of us as members of the body, can and will surely be broken down and swept away as the kingdom of God resumes creation.

I've been up to a lot lately. It's been hard to get to a computer with Internet to update anyone still reading this on the old thing I call life. That fact plays into perhaps one of the biggest bits of Derek News, that is, I have a new apartment. My bro and his best girl got hitched a little over a month ago, and while they're on what could be called their second honeymoon (their first was to Prince Edward Island, and now they're going cross-country in the Mazda, taking in as much as they can in as little time possible), I have a chance to use the Net a little more liberally and flex these rusty digits on the fancy I-Mac keyboard. 

by Father Stephen

Part of the spiritual landscape of American religion is the sizable role played by choice in a culture shaped in the free market - with freedom as a mythic symbol. It is not unusual to hear American politicians describing solutions to social problems as a matter of “trusting Americans as consumers.” It is as though we could “shop” our way out of life’s difficulties.

And thus it is that Calvinism, as a Protestant option, has never quite captured the mind of the American religious “consumer.” Our culture has long been driven by its own sense of freedom and the inherent right of every individual to make his or her own choice. Thus Christian teachings which do not give heavy weight to the importance of free-will (such as classical Calvinism) have never come to the place of dominance in American life. For Americans, religion is about a choice.

This is not all wrong - human beings do have freedom and it plays an important role within the life of salvation - even in Orthodox understanding. However, Orthodoxy sees our freedom as something flawed - we do not always choose as we should - nor do we always know what the good is to be chosen. Freedom has a role to play in the life of salvation - but is not itself what constitutes salvation. Indeed, our freedom is itself in need of salvation.

This brings me to the title of this short piece: the Kingdom of God is not a choice we make. There are many ways to describe the Kingdom - a variety of metaphors employed in the New Testament - but in every case the Kingdom is God’s Kingdom - not our response to God.

I occasionally state in sermons that “the Kingdom of God is coming whether you like it or not.” In this sense, particularly, it is not a choice we make - it is a gift that is given from God. In Christ, particularly in the fullness of His death and resurrection - the Kingdom of God has come. Though we still pray, “Thy Kingdom come,” we are not devoid of its presence now. “Thy Kingdom come” is a prayer for its fullness - but not for its inauguration.

The Kingdom of God is a reality already among us - though we frequently are oblivious to its presence. The heart of secularism is its assurance that the Kingdom of God is not here now, not yet, and perhaps only refers to something somewhere else or even nothing more than a utopian vision of the future. Of course, secularism and its infection of Christian thought is commonplace in modern culture. The world is not seen as sacramental, capable of bearing the Divine, but at best as a neutral playing field in which human beings choose sides in the religious contest of Christianity (or other religions or none of the above).

But the fullness of Christian truth and revelation is that the Kingdom of God has already broken forth among us, and the Christ who brought it forth promised that it would remain. Thus we eat and drink His Body and His Blood - not reminders of a historical event - but a foretaste of the fullness of the Kingdom. It is the Bread of Heaven - food, though not of the world yet in the world.

The whole of the sacramental life has this character of the Kingdom. And the sacramental life extends far beyond the Seven Sacraments that are traditionally described. The Kingdom has a quality that breaks into all of life unable to be restrained or hindered by man. We are not in charge of its arrival nor are we the masters of its growth. We may participate in its life and serve as its witnesses - even as citizens - but it is not our creation or something we offer to God. It comes from God and bears God.

I reflected on the song shared in the last post, written by St. Nikolai Velimirovich. There it seems clear - “Christ is risen, joy has been given.” Everything is made bright with the resurrection of Christ. It is not a choice other than for us to say: “Indeed He is risen!”