Metropolitan Jonah issues statement on recent sermon

SYOSSET, NY [OCA Communications] -- On Great, Holy and Good Friday, April 17, 2009, His Beatitude, Metropolitan Jonah, Primate of the Orthodox Church in America, issued the following statement in response to recent commentary on his April 5, 2009 sermon, delivered at Saint Seraphim Cathedral, Dallas, TX.

“I greet you in a spirit of repentance and forgiveness as we celebrate the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Certain comments that were made in the course of my sermon have provoked a reaction from my Orthodox brothers that I did not intend or foresee.  I regret making those comments.  In particular, I realize that some characterizations regarding the Ecumenical Patriarch and the Patriarchate of Constantinople were insensitive. As the Primate of the Orthodox Church in America, I am motivated only by the desire to underscore our fervent hope that future discussion about the so-called Orthodox Diaspora will include the Orthodox Church in America and other Orthodox jurisdictions in North America.  It is also my purpose to affirm our Church in the face of those who would question our presence as a local Orthodox Church in North America.

“It is now clear that I made statements that were uncharitable.   I do apologize to His All-Holiness as well as to others who were offended.  I also hope that through personal contact and acquaintance we might be able to overcome any misunderstandings that might arise or have clouded the relationship between our Churches in the past. My hope is that we might cooperate in an attitude of mutual support in our common mission, to spread the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.  In the spirit of this Great and Holy Friday, I sincerely pray that as we contemplate Our Lord, Who ascended the Cross to “bring all men to Himself,” we will see in His patience and long-suffering the way to continue our work together for the witness and mission of Orthodoxy in the world and for Orthodox unity in North America.”

The Hinge Question

When the glorious disciples were enlightened at the washing of the feet, then Judas the ungodly was stricken and darkened with the love of money; and to lawless judges he delivered you, the just judge. O lover of money, look upon him who for its sake hanged himself; flee from the insatiable soul, which dared such things against the Teacher. O you who are good to all, Lord, glory to you.

(Troparion for Great & Holy Thursday)

As I was listening to the hymns at matins for Great & Holy Thursday, I began to realize that I had my life exactly backwards. I do not serve others because I love them, I love them because I serve them It is service that leads to love, and for that matter to all manner of good and virutous things in my life. Our service is what make us holy and the less we serve, the more narrow our circle of those who we actively care for, the more constricted our hearts will be.

This was all made more concrete for me when I read Gary A. Anderson's article “Faith and Finance” in the current (May 2009) issue of First Things (which is not yet online for those who subscribe). Anderson, a professor of Old Testament at the University of Notre Dame, draws a linguistic parallel between “ faith and finance.” “It is,” he argues, “no accident that the word creditor in English comes from the Latin credere , 'to believe.' . . . A set of deep theological ideas lies behind this tight semantic joining of the disposition of trust and the act of issuing loans.” (p. 29) Indeed, as he fleshes out in the rest of his article, the disposition of trust—faith—is at the heart of the financial system and it is because of the absence of trust—faith—that in the system (and I think more pointedly, those who manage the system in our name as stewards of our shared wealth).

Where his article takes an interesting turrn, and this brings us back to Matins of Great & Holy Thursday, is the translation of “righteousness” ( tsedaqah ) in the Septuagint as almsgiving . “If the Greek translation is correct, it would appear that forgiveness is not completely an action of done by God alone but requires some sort of human participation.” For this reason, he concludes, to “be redeemed form one's sins requires the good work of showing mercy to the poor.” (p. 29)

Please, if you can, do read the whole of Anderson's argument. But for now, it seems to me that the services for Holy Thursday represents something of a crescendo in the service of this week. Or maybe it might be more accurate to refer to Holy Thursday as the liturgical “ hinge” of Holy Week. Having first been challenged to lay aside my own ego (Holy Monday) and remain open to the human face of divine love (Holy Tuesday), I then am shown, in graphic terms, between the life I am called to live and the life I actually live (Holy Wednesday).

And the life that has been described for me liturgically on Holy Thursday at Matins I discover, at the Vesperal Liturgy of St Basil on Thursday morning, is nothing more or less than the life of God revealed in Jesus Christ. Somewhere along the line, if I am to grow in Christ (to say nothing of inherit the Kingdom of Heaven), I need not simply to repent or not simply commit myself to struggle against my sin. I must also cultivate the life of virtue at the center of which is both a life of prayer (both personal and liturgical) and service of my neighbor in his or her poverty.

The form that service takes is as broad and diverse as human neediness itself. What matters is not the form of my service relative to yours (and vice versa), but the fact of service. It is also important that my service is merely some form of “do goodism” to satisfy my own ego and win the praise of others. My service must embody (and bring about) a real purification of my egoism and entrenched self-centeredness. Service in the sense I'm using it here is not social work (though social work can, and for many is, certainly a form of true Christian service), but the ascetical reformation and graced transformation of my life.

And again, all of this is rooted in Christ and my willingness to conform my life to His. While in the early stages of my spiritual life my imitation of Christ might be somewhat forced, or even unintentional, I must grow to more and more pattern my life on Christ's. This will necessarily require that, as with Christ, I suffer for the sins of the world; suffering in my life reflects both my own sin and the sin of my neighbor. This suffering can, however, be purifying and life-giving if I allow it to be so.

I thought about this during the Reading of the Twelve Passion Gospels at Matins Thursday evening. The service itself is long (over 2 ½ hours in my parish and this after an early morning Liturgy, a full work day for my parishioners and several hours of hearing confession for me) as we hear every word from the Gospel about the death of Jesus on the Cross. (For those interested, here are the readings in order: John
 13:31-18:1
;
 John
 18:1-29
;
 Matthew
 26:57-75
;
 John 
18:28–19:16
;
 Matthew
 27:3-32
;
 Mark
15:16-32
;
 Matthew
 27:33-54
;
 Luke
 23:32-49
;
 John
19:19-37
;
 Mark
15:43-47
;
 John
 19:38-42
;
 Matthew
 27: 62-66
.)

Of all the readings, it is the last one from St Matthew that stands out for me every year:

On the next day, which followed the Day of Preparation, the chief priests and Pharisees gathered together to Pilate, saying, "Sir, we remember, while He was still alive, how that deceiver said, 'After three days I will rise.' Therefore command that the tomb be made secure until the third day, lest His disciples come by night and steal Him away, and say to the people, 'He has risen from the dead.' So the last deception will be worse than the first." Pilate said to them, "You have a guard; go your way, make it as secure as you know how." So they went and made the tomb secure, sealing the stone and setting the guard. ( Mt 27: 62-66
)

I can refuse purification, I can refuse to serve. Why do I do this? Because I do not want my plans and projects undone by God.

In my desire to retain control of my own life I can find no end of collaborators both “in the world” and even, I am sad to say, “in the Church.” But as the events of the next few days will make clear, and as Pilate himself even alludes to, no matter how much help I get, I simply cannot secure my life against the grace of God. God's love will come to me. I may refuse that love certainly, but I cannot prevent God from loving me, from working to save me.

And so Holy Thursday comes to the stark ending of the Gospel passage above. Do I wish to secure my life against divine grace or will I move forward to the Resurrection? On this question, I think, hinges not only the services of Great and Holy Thursday but each human life.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Response of the Archons of the Ecumenical Patiarchate in American to Metropolitan JONAH

Archon News

Statement of the Order of Saint Andrew, Archons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in America

New York, NY
4/15/2009

The Order of Saint Andrew, Archons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate, laymen who are deeply devoted to the Great Church of Christ and dedicated to the protection, defense and the mission of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople, take this occasion to raise serious concerns and questions over the recent public remarks made by the Primate of the OCA during a Pan-Orthodox Vespers (April 5th) in Dallas, Texas. We do so sorrowfully, not only because the Church is now in the midst of Holy Week, but because the reason for our doing results from language that is unworthy of any ecclesiastical setting. Nevertheless, to be an Archon is to have a special concern and interest to protect and promote the Ecumenical Patriarchate, its mission, and the person of His All Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew. Therefore, we can not and must not refrain from speaking the truth in love, even though the moment is not the best.

For those who have seen the video that has been widely circulated on the Internet, or have read the transcript that is still on an OCA website, it is immediately apparent that inappropriate language, to say the least, is used against the Ecumenical Patriarchate. Consider this phrase:

There's one solution that's being proposed in which we all submit to Constantinople. We all submit to a foreign patriarchate where all decisions will be made there. Where we will have no say in the decisions that are made, we will have no say in our own destiny and we surrender the freedom that we have embraced as American Orthodox Christians to a patriarch that is still under Islamic domination.

Who has proposed any kind of subjugation to Constantinople? No one! The fact is that all of the Autocephalous Primates agreed in Constantinople on October 12, 2008 that there should be a swift healing of every canonical anomaly that has arisen from historical circumstances and pastoral requirements, such as in the so-called Orthodox Diaspora, with a view to overcoming every possible influence that is foreign to Orthodox ecclesiology (Article 13, ii). This statement was signed by all the recognized Autocephalous Primates or their Official Representatives. Metropolitan Jonah's statements demonstrate not only a lack of knowledge and of discretion; they demonstrate something which is plainly foreign to Orthodox ecclesiology.

To maintain that we, Americans, cannot ... be controlled by people who have never heard a word of English much less would allow a word of English to be spoken in the liturgy. We can't allow our church to be controlled by people who have no appreciation of our culture and have to bow to the Turkish Islamic authorities, is an erroneous, irresponsible statement in any public setting, much less a liturgical service. The fact is that Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew speaks six languages, and had a wonderful conversation with the President of the United States in English two days after this inflammatory remark! Furthermore, when the Heads of the Autocephalous Churches celebrated the Holy Liturgy together last October 12th in the Patriarchal Cathedral of St. George, there was an abundance of tongues used, recalling the Day of Pentecost.

Finally, we, Archons of the Great Church of Christ, must register our concern and pain over the general tone of the Metropolitan's remarks as insulting. When a statement is made, speaking personally about the Ecumenical Patriarch: if we wanted the Pope we'd be under the real one, it is not possible for the Order of Archons to be silent. This kind of disrespect is beneath any Christian. And we must also ask how a phrase like, Communists who now call themselves Democrats, does not cast aspersions on the very Nation whose martyred Church, the Patriarchate of Moscow, created the OCA in the first place?

As we are in the midst of Holy Days, when we all apply ourselves more vigorously to prayer and fasting, as we strive to follow Christ on His Way to the Cross and His Glorious Resurrection, we hope that Metropolitan Jonah will publicly retract his ill-considered remarks. While we rejoice that all things are forgiven in the Resurrection, as Orthodox Christians and as Archons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate, we will continue to be vigilant and express our grave concerns whenever such injustices as these are committed. May God grant to us all the strength and will to work for peaceable, reasonable relationships within His Holy Church, so that the Message of the Holy Gospel may shine forth.

Archons Website

The Harlot and the Disciple

When the sinful woman offered myrrh, then the disciple made an agreement with the lawless. The one rejoiced as she emptied out something of great price, while the other hurried to sell the One beyond price. She acknowledged the Master; he was parted from the Master. She was set free while Judas became the slave of the foe. Dreadful is sloth! Great is repentance! Grant it to me, Saviour, who suffered for us, and save us.

(Hymn at Lauds for Holy Wednesday)

At Bridegroom Matins for Great and Holy Wednesday we read from the Gospel of St John ( 12:17-50 ) while the hymnography for the service is drawn from the Gospel according to St Matthew ( 26). Far from being opposed to each other these two passages compliment each other with the hymnography for the canon serving as an illustration of the general theme of the Gospel reading: that in imitation of Christ, I must loose my life in order to save it. Or, as we read in John:

He who loves his life will lose it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 If anyone serves Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there My servant will be also. If anyone serves Me, him My Father will honor. (12.25-26)

For its part, the hymnography contrasts the actions of the unnamed harlot who anoints Jesus' feet with myrrh with the disciple Judas who will soon betray Him. While the content of the hymns is of the utmost seriousness, there is nevertheless a certain playfulness in them as they compare and contrast the two disciples of Christ.

The theme we have been following through the Matins services is also one that compares and contrasts two different ways of relating to Christ: planning or openness. While planning cannot be dismissed outright or minimized, it is after all an important part of our stewardship of the gifts God has given us, there is always a temptation to plan in a manner that makes our planning, and their successful accomplishment, the goal of not only our material and professional lives, but also of our spiritual life.

My planning, therefore, needs to be balanced (and often restrained) by an eager openness on my part to the will of God for my life. As we saw on Great and Holy Tuesday, to be human is to be open to love.

This openness, as the contrast between the harlot and Judas illustrates, is often hidden from not only outside observers but also even from me. Imagining myself in the position of the harlot, I can't help but think that she was as surprised by her behavior toward Jesus as anyone else. How often had she in the past anointed and cared for men with immoral intent? Now, however, there is nothing unchaste in her actions. I would even go so far as to suggest that even given her wrong intention, her past life as a prostitute was something of a preparation for the Gospel. Granted it was in many ways a perverted preparation, but however skewed her intent, no matter how false her actions, how often she was coerced by circumstances or the lust of men to attentive to the desires of others, in Christ this past is transformed into the gentle attentiveness that we see in her relationship with Christ.

None of this is to suggest prostitution as a way of life. It is rather only to illustrate that in Christ even the harshest of our experience can be transformed and transfigured and become by God's grace life giving for us and for the world.

Compare the transfigured harlot to the fallen Judas.

If her life embodies the eager, if often hidden, openness to love that we should all cultivate, Judas embodies a life that reduces human life, and especially the spiritual life, to a matter of planning and its attendant calculations. Until the moment of the harlot's encounter with Jesus, Judas was simply a disciple. As with the other disciples, he no doubt struggled with His Master's teachings and actions. If Philip and Andrew are any indication, even at the end of His ministry, the disciples didn't seem to understand that discipleship, following Jesus, requires a life of real sacrifice.

No, up until Jesus' encounter with the harlot, Judas seems to worse than any of the disciples. Like the others, Judas simply doesn't understand what it means to follow Jesus.

And then there is the whore.

Trying to place myself in his position, I think it was at this moment that Judas parts “from the Master” and becomes “ the slave of the foe,” as we sing in one of the hymns of the day. When love is made manifest, not only the human face of God's love for us, but also our love for God, Judas the disciple becomes Judas the betrayer. Why? What is it in this encounter that is so unbearable for Judas that he rushes out to betray his friend?

When I reduce my own life to a plan and my encounters with God and neighbor to a series of calculations (even if my calculations are “Christian”), I do so because I have closed my heart to divine grace. Instead of an openness to God and His love for my neighbor, for me and for all creation, my life comes to orbit around my own ego and the ever shifting pattern of my own desires. When this happens anything that does not ratify my ego, does not satisfy my desires at that moment, becomes necessarily a foe to be defeated.

As with Judas, we come to this moment slowly; incrementally my heart becomes evermore closed to grace until finally I turn from God in one finally act of rebellion.

But this is not the whole story. As with the harlot, we also come slowly to the moment of our definitive encounter with Jesus. Again, incrementally, the human heart can become evermore open to grace until finally the person turns definitively to God in an act of abandonment.

My preparation for these two acts is simultaneous. Day by day, moment by moment, my heart is both closing and opening to love. The difference between a heart which is open and one which is closed is not so much in the preparation but in the consequences. The closed heart is static, stagnant, like death and Hell themselves; the open heart is a dynamic, beating heart that grows and expands like life and Heaven themselves.

Given the strongly monastic character of all of the Orthodox liturgical tradition, and especially the services of Great and Holy Week, it is noteworthy that the worship of the Church place before us as an exemplars of the decisions we each face a harlot and a disciple. It is the harlot whose heart is pure and who embodies best what we all hope for our own life in Christ; it is Judas, the apostle and disciple, the intimate friend of Jesus, whose heart is unchaste and who illustrates the consequences of rejecting Christ. There is more than a little irony that it she who I imagine myself to be least like is closest to Christ, while he who seemed to have for three years the relationship with Christ I want is the one who will betray him.

Kalo Pascha.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

The Woe of the Scribes and the Pharisees

This should have gone out last night, but I was too tired to finish it up before services. My apologizes.

Behold, the Bridegroom comes in the middle of the night, and blessed is that servant whom he finds watching; but unworthy is the one whom he finds slothful. Take care then, my soul, not to be overcome with sleep, lest you be given up to death, and be shut out of the kingdom; but rouse yourself and cry: Holy, holy, holy are you, O God; through the prayers of the Foreunner, have mercy on us.

(Troparion, Bridegroom Matins For Great & Holy Tuesday)

The Gospel ( Mt 22:15-23:39) assigned for Matins records some very harsh language and sharp comments from Jesus. Seven times our Lord says to the Jewish authorities: “W oe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” And after each utterance, our Lord summarizes their hypocrisy:

• You shut up the kingdom of heaven against men; for you neither go in yourselves, nor do you allow those who are entering to go in. (v. 13)
• You devour widows' houses, and for a pretense make long prayers. Therefore you will receive greater condemnation. (v. 14)
• You travel land and sea to win one proselyte, and when he is won, you make him twice as as much a son of hell as yourselves.
• You pay tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone. (v. 23)
• You cleanse the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of extortion and self-indulgence. (v. 25)
• You are like whitewashed tombs which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inside are full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness. (v. 27)2

And finally, in His last call to repentance Christ summarizes their offense:

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! Because you build the tombs of the prophets and adorn the monuments of the righteous, and say, 'If we had lived in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets.' Therefore you are witnesses against yourselves that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets. Fill up, then, the measure of your fathers' guilt. Serpents, brood of vipers! How can you escape the condemnation of hell? Therefore, indeed, I send you prophets, wise men, and scribes: some of them you will kill and crucify, and some of them you will scourge in your synagogues and persecute from city to city, that on you may come all the righteous blood shed on the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah, son of Berechiah, whom you murdered between the temple and the altar. Assuredly, I say to you, all these things will come upon this generation. (vv. 29-36)

I said last night that these first service of Great and Holy Week radically relativize my own propensity to plan, to imagine that my life is subject in an absolute sense to my own will and desires.

Instead of planning, the service of these first few days call me to be vigilant. A central theme of Bridegrooms Maitns is watchful preparedness.

But are preparations are not like that of an adolescent who decides never to decide. Yes, we are to remain open and expectant, but our ready is like of a soldier who, having prepared for war, find himself waiting out the last moments before the battle begins.

And what is it that we wait for? We wait for the revelation of Divine Love.

It is here that the scribes and Pharisees have failed. Though they scrupulously kept the Law, their very fidelity blinded them to the revelation of God's love. What they did not see, maybe even what they could not see, is that when God's love comes to us it comes with a human face. This is why when Jesus is challenged by the lawyer to name to greatest commandment of the Law He offers a two-fold answer:

But when the Pharisees heard that He had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. Then one of them, a lawyer, asked Him a question, testing Him, and saying, "Teacher, which is the great commandment in the law?" Jesus said to him, " 'You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets." (vv. 34-40)

Looking back at the woe of the scribes and the Pharisees, their sorrow is that their love of God made them indifferent to the love of neighbor and insensitive to their neighbor's poverty and need. The woe of the scribes and the Phraisees is this: The love of God killed in them compassion for their neighbor!

In this the scribes and the Phraisees are mirror image of many of us today. If once the love of God obscured the love of neighbor, today it is rather the other way around. Compassion for my neighbor in his or her weakness has now come to trump our love and fidelity to God. For the scribes and the Phraisees their love of what was greatest became to excuse to disregard what was smaller, but closer; for us today, we love what is small and close but we often neglect what is greatest.

In either case though, our severing of the “two commandments” on which “hang all the Law and the Prophets,” inevitably leads to violence and even bloodshed. Again, why? Because love comes to us with a human face.

The human face of love is, I think, one of the most extraordinary elements of the Gospel. It is not simply that God loves me, it is not simply that God comes to me as a human being, it is also that He comes to me in you. Love, forgiveness, mercy, compassion for my neighbor in his weakness and need, all of these are essential to the Gospel.

And it is because of these, that I will at times find myself having to be—like Jesus—harsh. But my harsh words or actions are not, or at least should not, born from a desire for power and control. Rather, and again mindful that the model here is Christ, my harsh words reflect my willingness (and again, like the soldier) to place myself between the innocent and those who would victimize or exploit them.

Much is sometime made of the fact that God offers us mercy and not justice. This is true as far as it goes, but only if we understand carefully what we mean by “justice.” It is certainly true that I often appeal to justice to hid my desire for revenge or to rationalize my hatred or desire for power and control. Justice in this sense has nothing to do with the Gospel much less with God.

But there is another understanding of justice. We can think of justice in this second, more radically sense, as consonance, harmony or (if you prefer) synergy , that profound working together of the Divine and human wills that the Apostle Paul alludes to when he calls us “co-workers” with Christ (see, Phil 2.25). The woe of the scribes and the Pharisees is the fruit of a lack of justice in this second sense.

And so, to yesterday's counsel to eschatological preparedness, we should add I think this: A willingness to work for justice in human affairs. Not justice as vengeance or control, but of synergy , of a cooperative working together of the whole Church not only with Her Lord, God and Saviour Jesus Christ, but all the members with Him and each other and indeed all people of good will.

Kalo Pascha!

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Behold the Bridegroom

Behold, the Bridegroom comes in the middle of the night, and blessed is that servant whom he finds watching; but unworthy is the one whom he finds slothful. Take care then, my soul, not to be overcome with sleep, lest you be given up to death, and be shut out of the kingdom; but rouse yourself and cry: Holy, holy, holy are you, O God; through the protection of Bodiless Powers, have mercy on us.

( Troparion for Bridegroom Matins)

This evening in many Orthodox parishes, we will gather to begin our liturgical celebration of Great and Holy Week. Having left Great and Holy Lent behind with our celebration of Christ's entrance into Jerusalem, we now fix our gaze more intensely on the Resurrection of Christ (Pascha or Easter).

We begin our journey—o f if you prefer, continue our journey—to Pascha by recalling not historical events (though we do that aplenty this week) but rather giving voice to our hope for the future. For all that we refer this week to the events in the last week of Christ's life before His crucifixion, our point of reference is eschatological and not strictly speaking historical. Or to put it another way, the Church only looks back to the past in order to look look forward to a future that is wholly outside of our own control.

My daily life, my everyday attitude, is often filled plans. Just this morning after Liturgy, for example, I sat with the parish council and made plans for the near future. Planning is certainly not wrong—and more often than not it is essential.\

But there is something undeniably seductive about planning. You see my plans our mine. Whether I am planning a desirable future toward which I race or a future I dread and would flee from if I could, in both cases my plans can become for me an idol of my own making. G. K. Chesterton's observation about the relationship of truth and fiction are applicable to the relationship between the future and my plans for the future. “Truth, of course, must of necessity be stranger than fiction,” Chesterton writes in his work Heretics , “for we have made fiction to suit ourselves.”

Likewise my plans. Whether comforting of frightening, my plans for the future always seem somehow my attractive, more reasonable, and much less frightening than the future since—unlike the future—my plans are made to suit my own views of how the future ought to be. There is something inescapably narcissistic about planning.

Not, I want to emphasize, that we shouldn't plan. We should plan; planning is an essential part of our stewardship of God's many blessings to us. But it is easy to confuse my plans for the future with the gift of the future itself. It is easy to confuse my desire for the coming years, next week or tomorrow, with the future itself as it comes to me from the hand of an All-Loving God.

And so for sound theological and anthropological reasons, we begin Holy Week by recalling that we do not such much move toward the future as it is that the future comes to us, to me. And when the future comes, it comes as a judgment.

The judgment of the future is not a narrowing of human life as if somehow God were some kind of Victorian moralist. No the future that comes toward me is God Himself, His Glory revealed; the judgment which is to come is His love for me, for my neighbor and the whole creation made manifest. I am judged by love revealed in all its fullness and it is in this Divine Light the narrowness, the self-satisfaction of my own heart, will be revealed.

Every year during Holy Week and Pascha I am challenged less by fasting and the many (and longer!) services and more by the smallness of my love when compared to not only to Christ's infinite love but also the finite, but still overwhelming, love for Christ in the hearts of those whose confessions I will hear.

Is it any wonder, as the troparion for the day suggest, that when faced with this challenge I am tempted simply to sleep? To lay down the burden of joy and instead allow myself the illusory luxury that the philosopher Emmanuel Levinas calls the “natural atheism” of the soul that seeks to consume creation rather than be responsible for neighbor in his poverty and need?

And so, this year again like last year, I being Holy Week by being reminded that the future belongs to God. My plans and projects have their place—they are even after a fashion necessary—but they are not ultimate. As necessary as my plans might be, what is more necessary is that I remain ready and open to the grace that rushes toward me through the Cross and the Tomb from the Kingdom of God.

Kalo Pascha.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

The Enthusaism of the Crowds

Sunday, April 12, 2009: ENTRY OF OUR LORD INTO JERUSALEM (Palm Sunday). St. Basil the Confessor, Bishop of Parium (8th c.). Hieromartyr Zeno, Bishop of Verona (ca. 260). Ven. Isaac the Syrian, Abbot of Spoleto (550). Monk Martyrs Menas, David, and John, of Palestine (7th c.). Ven. Anthusa the Virgin, of Constantinople (801). Ven. Athanasia, Abbess, of Aegina (860). Ven. Acacius the Younger, of Kavsokalyvia (Mt. Athos—1730).

Then, six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was who had been dead, whom He had raised from the dead. There they made Him a supper; and Martha served, but Lazarus was one of those who sat at the table with Him. Then Mary took a pound of very costly oil of spikenard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil. But one of His disciples, Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, who would betray Him, said, “Why was this fragrant oil not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?” This he said, not that he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and had the money box; and he used to take what was put in it. But Jesus said, "Let her alone; she has kept this for the day of My burial. For the poor you have with you always, but Me you do not have always. Now a great many of the Jews knew that He was there; and they came, not for Jesus' sake only, but that they might also see Lazarus, whom He had raised from the dead. But the chief priests plotted to put Lazarus to death also, because on account of him many of the Jews went away and believed in Jesus. The next day a great multitude that had come to the feast, when they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm trees and went out to meet Him, and cried out: Hosanna! 'Blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD!' The King of Israel!" Then Jesus, when He had found a young donkey, sat on it; as it is written: Fear not, daughter of Zion; Behold, your King is coming, Sitting on a donkey's colt." His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things were written about Him and that they had done these things to Him. Therefore the people, who were with Him when He called Lazarus out of his tomb and raised him from the dead, bore witness. For this reason the people also met Him, because they heard that He had done this sign.

(John 12:1-18)

The Gospel for Palm Sunday divides neatly in to two different, though internally related, stories.

We have the first half of the story that looks back to yesterday's celebration when we commemorated the restoration of Lazarus to life after four days in the tomb. The second half of the Gospel commemorates Jesus' triumphal entrance into Jerusalem. The first half looks backwards to what was done, the second half forward to what is yet to be done: the death of Christ on the Cross and His glorious third day resurrection from the dead. And in both parts of the Gospel, there are the various human actors who never quite seem to understand Jesus.

Jesus is shown sitting at table Lazarus with Martha—as always—busy with much serving. And there is Mary who, again, has chosen the better part and anoints His feet with costly ointment. There is Judas, the disciple, the thief and the one who will soon betray his friend and teacher.

Outside this domestic tableau there are the Jewish authorities who jealousy and fear of Jesus has turned murderous not only toward Jesus but Lazarus who restoration to life has caused many to come to believe in Jesus.

And of course, as always, there are the crowds. Today the crowds welcome Jesus as their King and Liberator. As St John Chrysostom has it, today the crowds “showed now at last that they thought Him greater than a prophet: And went forth to meet Him, and cried, Hosanna! Blessed is the King of Israel, that comes in the name of the Lord.”

In this, of course, the crowds are more correct then they know.

Unlike the undisciplined enthusiasm of the crowds, St Augustine, looking at the events of Palm Sunday with the eyes of sober faith. He knows that it is “a small thing to the King eternal to be made a human king. Christ was not the King of Israel, to exact tribute, and command armies, but to direct souls, and bring them to the kingdom of heaven. For Christ then to be King of Israel, w as a condescension, not an elevation, a sign of His pity, not an increase of His power. For He who was as called on earth the King of the Jews, is in heaven the King of Angels.”

It is in the space between undisciplined enthusiasm, or if you will a faith that is untempered by asceticism and reason and the sober faith that has been so purified that will grow the seed of the crowds later rejection of Jesus. The crowds, for all their passion and noise, cannot bear the difference between who they think Jesus is and Who He is actually.

As with the crowds, so to I think with each of us in our own spiritual lives. It is easy for me to fall in love with my idea about God or (for that matter, my neighbor) and to love the image more than the Person that the images points me toward. Like the crowd, I am tempted always to sentimentality, to falling in love with my own feelings and thoughts at the expense of my supposed Beloved. In the Church's more exact language, like the crowds, I am subject to prelest , spiritual delusion.

While the Apostle Paul does not use the word, he nevertheless is aware of prelest and its effect on the person. He warns the young bishop Timothy to not “give heed to fables and endless genealogies, which cause disputes rather than godly edification which is in faith.” (1 Tim 1.4) He warns Timothy that those who do give themselves over to prelest eventually stray from Christ and instead give themselves over to “to idle talk” and pride “desiring to be teachers of the law,” but fail to be such since they understand “what they say nor the things which they affirm.” (vv. 6-7)

The idle talk that Paul mentions is rather more serious than we might imagine. It is because of idle talk that over the next week the crowds will turn against Jesus. Their prelest inspired disappointment will quickly turn to rage, a rage that not only kills their own souls, but is unwilling as it is to accept any limits on itself, will turn Christ over to be crucified.

Compare this to the words we heard last night at Vespers:

Thus says the Lord, 'Rejoice, daughter of Sion. Shout, daughter of Jerusalem! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, daughter of Jerusalem! The Lord has taken away your iniquities, he has ransomed you from the hand of your enemies. The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst. You shall see evils no more. At that time the Lord will say to Jerusalem, 'Be of good courage, Sion Do not let your hands grow weak. The Lord, your God, is in your midst. The Mighty One will save you. He will bring joy upon you and renew you by his love. He will rejoice over you with delight, as on a day of festival. And I will gather your afflicted. Alas! Who has taken up a reproach against you? I will work for your sake at that time. And I will save her that was oppressed and receive her who was rejected, and I will make them a boast and famed in all the earth'. ((Zephaniah 3:14-19, LXX)

The therapy for prelest is, I think, found in the prophet's words: I must rejoice in God. I must do this not in undisciplined enthusiasm, but as the fruit of repentance, of my acceptance of God's forgiveness not only of me, but all humanity. To do so requires from me courage. Why? Because once I see all humanity as loved and forgiven by God in Jesus Christ, I set myself against those who imagine—as did the Jewish authorities—that they, and they alone, know God's mercy, a mercy they hold fast to as if it was something of their own making. Those who do this are like Judas, for their own selfish ends they steal from the common grace of God for all humanity. If I am like this, how can I imagine that I will not murder God once I have Him in my grasp?

My brothers and sisters in Christ, God delights over His People today; God delights over you and all humanity. He knows that in a few days they, we, I, will betray Him and yet this in no way lessens His delight, His love, His forgiveness, for us, for you and for me. Even though by my own actions I give myself over to sin again and again, God in Jesus Christ will renew me, as He renews all of us, by His love.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Mourning, Melancholia and the Clergy

Image via Wikipedia

One of the things I come to understand over the years is that depression is simply part of the background noise for many clergy. And this holds true whether the individual in question is Orthodox, Catholic, Protestant or Evangelical Christian, male or female. This isn't to say that the cleric in question is incapacitated. Far from it in fact. Many of the clergy I know who are depressed are rather high functioning and often considered to be successful and even exemplary examples of pastoral ministry in their tradition.

But depressed they are nevertheless.

Freud somewhere argued that depression is a result of the loss of one's love object. In Freudian psychoanalytic theory, the love object is that person or project in which I invested my libidinous energies. While the term libido now has sexual connotations, this was not the case for Freud. Rather libido, was more a generic term for psychic energy (though granted, this energy can, and often is, in Freud's view sexual in character).

When that love object is lost, whether literally or figuratively, I experience depression, or (to use Freud's term) melancholia. Robert Clark, a Reader in English at the University of East Anglia​, in his brief essay on Freud's essay on depression, “Mourning and Melancholia”> (1917), writes that Freud thinks of depression or

melancholia as a “profoundly painful dejection, cessation of interest in the outside world, loss of the capacity to love, inhibition of all activity, and a lowering of the self-regarding feelings to a degree that finds utterance in self-reproaches and self-revilings, and culminates in a delusional expectation of punishment.” (Penguin Freud Library, Vol. 11, p. 248).

And again, as I said a moment ago, while melancholia results from “the death of a loved person, but it might also occur when something has been lost as an object of love, or even when 'one cannot see clearly what has been lost. (254).”

Mourning, on the other hand, has a slightly different content. Again, as Clark writes, “In mourning 'it is the world that has become poor and empty; in melancholia it is the ego itself' (254).” Clinically, “Freud noted that melancholics were inclined to accuse themselves of many failings in an entirely unjustified way, and noted that the accusations were such as should have been more correctly directed against someone whom the patient loves or has loved.”

Freud's description of depression then is of loss and anger turned inward against the ego or the “I” that should, more reasonably, be directed outward at those who have abandoned or failed me (and again, this might be literally or symbolically). While there is much that I would reject in Freud, it seems to me that his insight into depression is profound. It is all the more profound as I think about my own, and other's, experiences in ministry.

Loss is inseparable from ministry because it is inseparable from human life in general and the Christian life in particular. It is hard, for example, to read the sayings of the desert fathers and not come away with the realization that mourning is essential to the Christian life. For example, Abba Poeman says that “He who wishes to purify his faults purifies them with tears. . . . ; for weeping is the way the Scriptures and our fathers give us, when they say, 'Weep!' Truly, there is no other way than this.” And Isaac the Syrian goes so far as to say “The man who follows Christ in solitary mourning is greater than he who praises Christ amid the congregation of men.”

But if mourning is essential to the spiritual life, melancholia/depression has no place and reflects mourning that has gone terribly wrong. Again, as Freud reminds us, in mourning, I come to sense the poverty of the world—m ourning (to transpose Freud into an anthropology more consonant with the fathers) is the realization that though this world is a great and beautiful gift, it is nevertheless “transitory.” It is only to the degree that I realize this that, as St Gregory the Great somewhere says, I am able “to stretch out the mind in humility to God and [my] neighbor.” Mourning is what helps “preserve patience against offered insults and, with patience guarded, to repel the pain of malice from the heart.” Mourning is to foundation of my love of the poor and makes it possible for me to “give [my] property to the poor, not to covet that of others, to esteem the friend in God, on God's account to love even those who are hostile.” It is through mourning that I am able to be and lead others to become evermore that “new creature whom the Master of the nations seeks with watchful eye amid the other disciples, saying: 'If, then, any be in Christ a new creature, the old things are passed away. Behold all things are made new' (2 Cor. 5:17).”

While mourning and melancholia are similar, they are not the same. Worse, if we are not careful we can easily confuse mourning and melancholia. It is unwise to expect clergy, or for clergy to expect from ourselves, a life of selfless service if we are not also clear that such service is different in tone and content from depression. I think rather too easily we all of us—whether clergy or not—allow ourselves to confuse mourning and melancholia; too easily when we ought to counsel detachment we are instead fostering depression.

Too simply be angry with myself, to see my own failings and shortcomings in isolation from any larger content that realizes my own (and other's) weakness is a way of life that is psychologically and spiritually unsustainable.

I am very much taken by St Gregory the Great's notion that the mournful person is able to stretch out, in humility, his mind to God and neighbor. To understand humility as if it were some species of melancholia is, I think, to misunderstand humility. Yes because of my manifold sins and transgressions, I fall short of the glory of God (see Rms 3.12). But do I realize that even if I were not sinful, I would—; as a creature—fall short of the Divine Glory?

Real mourning—as opposed to its counterfeit, melancholia—gives birth to real humility. And what is this real humility? I think St Gregory Nyssa offers a good a description as any I've read:

This is true perfection: not to avoid a wicked life because like slaves we severely fear punishment, not to do good because we hope for rewards, as if cashing in on the virtuous life by some business-like arrangement. On the contrary, disregarding all those things for which we hope and which have been reserved by promise, we regard falling from God's friendship as the only thing dreadful and we consider becoming God's friend the only thing worthy of honor and desire. This, as I have said, is the perfection of life.

To befriend God and neighbor is, it seems to me, the fruit of humility and a heart that mourns for its own sins and the sins of the world.

Many clergy struggle valiantly to be friends with God and neighbor But their struggles are often undermined by their own, and others, confusion of melancholia and depression. Thinking about this I wonder if it might not be helpful for clergy, but also for all of us who love Christ, if we made a bit more room in our communities for saying goodbye and seeing all the little (and great) losses of life as blessings and not curses?

Nicholas Ray in his essay (“ Trauer und Melancholie”) on Freud's theory of depresstiont, writes that for Freud, mourning is “not – or at least is not only – a process of remembrance; it is a labour of severance, of slowly cutting ties with what has gone. The painful re-traversal of memories and expectations connected to the lost object is undertaken by the psyche with a separative aim in view.”

Watching the different disagreements and divisions that seem to be inflicting the Orthodox Church in the States, as well as the suffering of my fellow clergy, I wonder, if in fact we have not in someway undercut the hard work of mourning that Freud and the fathers describe? And, if we have, I wonder, what is the way back?

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Informality. Formality and Spiritual Formation: More Thoughts from CAPS

Friday afternoon at CAPS I sat in a plenary session by Saul Cruz entitled “Hope and Healing through Care and Counsel to the Suffering in the World.” Together with his wife Pilar, Saul is co-director of Armonia Ministries. Together this husband and wife team ministry heir to the poor communities in both urban and rural areas in Mexico. Saul is by profession a psychologist and family therapist, and has also been a university lecturer.

Unfortunately because I had to take care of details for a funeral in my parish back in Canton, I was in and out of the presentation. One thing I did hear was the presenters argument that (I'm quoting from my notes):

Transformation require NOT that I solve your problem, but rather help you accept RESPONSIBILITY for your own life. In this process, I promise to walk along side you—but I cannot replace you in your own life. For example, if a mother brings me her children, I can't raise her children for her—I can't become their mother—but I can offer to help her accept and bear her responsibility for her own children.

The fruit if this approach (again, quoting my notes on the speaker's presentation) is that “not only is the other person transformed, but I am transformed with them.”

Thinking about the informal approach popular among Evangelical Christians, I wonder, if something similar might be necessary with Orthodox missionary activity especially here in the US. My reason for asking this is that so few Americans have much background that lends itself to the Gospel in its fullness.

Unlike the New Testament and early patristic era, we seem to lack (or maybe more accurately, devalue) the great cultural touchstones of the ancient world, moral law and philosophy, that someone like St Justin Martyr saw as the two great preparations for Jewish and Greek acceptance of the Gospel. Large segments of those we would reach out to have little, if any, appreciation for philosophical reasoning (and indeed, this would include not a few Orthodox Christians among both the laity and the clergy). As for the moral law, if they think of it at all, many Americans see morality and natural law as oppressive and opposed to freedom, self-expression and self-determination (and again, this is so not simply generally, but also among many Orthodox Christian laity and clergy).

The value of a more informal approach in the current pastoral circumstances can be seen in two ways. First, there is the positive value of friendship in the spiritual life. To take only one example from the patristic era, there is the friendship of St Basil and St John Chrysostom. Each was able to support and encourage the other as he sought to do the will of God for his own life.

Spiritual friendship has deep roots not only in the tradition of the Orthodox East, but also the Catholic West. There is for example in the spiritual tradition of the ancient Celtic Church the notion of the “soul friend” or in Gaelic the anam cara. On his blog “ Soul Friend,” Chuck Huckaby writes that in “a culture steeped in the idolatry of individualism we call postmodernism, nascent attempts at creating community and godly order all too often tilt to the opposite extreme of cultic authoritarianism. In contrast, the "Soul Friend" seeks to build community and establish order based on the model of sacrificial servanthood, patient instruction and gentle admonition.”

Moving beyond the arena of Celtic Christianity, there is also the role of spiritual friendship in the monastic tradition—again both East and West. I mentioned above the example of Chrysostom and Basil, there is also the example of the 6 ^th century elders and saints Barsaniphus and John.

Moving to western monastic life, we have the example of the father of monastic life in the West St Benedict. Add to this, the example of Francis of Assisi and his companions as well as the life and ministry ofBernard of Clairvauxthe great monastic reformer and the work of one of his “spiritual sons,” the great English saint and author Ailred of Rievaulx who wrote, among other things, a treatise entitled “ Spiritual Friendship.”

Huckably's point about “cultic authoritarianism” speaks to my rationale for a more informal approach to Orthodox outreach and evangelism. Looking back on my own personal and pastoral experience, I realize more and more the importance of robust tradition of both moral law and philosophical reasoning in the development of a health sense of self. Again both in my own early life and in my pastoral experience, the general cultural absence of these twin preparations for the Gospel leaves the developing self deeply wounded.

Switching if I may to a more clinical approach, the wounding of the self, or more accurately the sense of self, is part of who in the psychoanalytic tradition we understand the development of a personality disorder, or a character disorders. According to the American Psychiatric Association, personality disorders are characterized by "an enduring pattern of inner experience and behavior that deviates markedly from the expectations of the culture of the individual who exhibits it".

Within the pastoral sphere, I often see people with avoidant personality disorder or (again to borrow from the APA): a "pervasive pattern of social inhibition, feelings of inadequacy, and hypersensitivity to negative evaluation, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by four (or more) of the following:

1. Avoids occupational activities that involve significant interpersonal contact, because of fears of criticism, disapproval, or rejection

2. Is unwilling to get involved with people unless certain of being liked

3. Shows restraint initiating intimate relationships because of the fear of being ashamed, ridiculed, or rejected due to severe low self-worth.

4. Is preoccupied with being criticized or rejected in social situations

5. Is inhibited in new interpersonal situations because of feelings of inadequacy

6. Views self as socially inept, personally unappealing, or inferior to others

7. Is unusually reluctant to take personal risks or to engage in any new activities because they may prove embarrassing.”

Those who suffer from an avoidant style of relating to self and others often will look to the formality and structure of the Orthodox Church to serve in place of their own underdeveloped and wounded sense of self. In other words, rather than developing a healthy and robust sense of self, with all that implies about accepting one's strengths and limitations as well as being responsible for one's decisions, a significant minority of people look to religion.

In the case of the converts I've know this means that the look to the Church, and especially the liturgical /ascetical tradition of the Church, to offer externally the structure to their lives that should emerge from their own sense of self.

Because the Church, and especially her liturgical and ascetical praxis, serve as person's ego (which again has been wounded), if the the formality of the Church's tradition is not balanced with a more informal approach, we risk confirming and deepening the very deficient sense of self that has caused the person so much suffering in life. Or, to put it more directly, the weight of the Church's tradition crushes already fragile sense of self.

This is why, I think, we often see such polemical defenses of their new tradition from many converts (and not just Orthodox Christians converts): The tradition has come to serve as the self and in those struggling with a personality disorder (unlike a more typical psychopathology such as depression) the fault for their own unhappiness is always external. And how could it be otherwise, since there is no healthy, internal sense of self that can bear the responsibility for their pain.

Again this I think is the great wisdom of the Evangelical Christian approach to ministry, outreach and evangelism in general and Saul Cruz's own work in particular. Informality is I think a good beginning. It is not sufficiently certainly, we need to introduce and incorporate the person in to Great Tradition and this not only intellectually but also sacramentally. Why? Not only because of the wisdom of tradition and the objective importance of the sacraments for the life of faith, but for sound anthropological reasons. We need the Great Tradition, and especially its liturgical and ascetical witness, to develop the sound and wholesome view of self that many of us lack.

If people cannot bear a formal beginning—even if l the desire it like an addict does his drug—this does not mean we can forgo the formality of the Church. We cannot come to wholeness of being without the liturgical and ascetical tradition of the Church. If their cultural absence has made them seem foreign and deadly to us and so necessitates a more, indirect approach to the life of grace, this does not mean that the moral, philosophical, liturgical and ascetical elements of Tradition of the Church are optional. To think they are is to confuse sound, Christ-centered, spiritual formation with pedagogy.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Metropolitan Jonah on Orthodox Unity

From The Crunchy Con:

Last night at Pan-Orthodox Vespers here at St. Seraphim Cathedral here in Dallas, Metropolitan Jonah of the OCA responded. Watch his sermon here. It's a bombshell that will rock the Orthodox world. Concluding line: "We might affirm to our bishops that they might tell the churches of the Old World: 'There is an American Orthodox Church. Leave it alone.'"

While I can appreciate that to some, especially those in Constantinople, might find His Beatitude's words harsh at time, I think he is correct in his assessment of the situation of the Church here in the States.

His Beatitude says in his sermon:

"It is imperative, brothers and sisters, imperative on us, that we come together, and with one voice, as the Orthodox Church in North America, to say to the holy fathers of the Old World: the Orthodox Church exists in North America. We're grateful for the support that you have given us. We love and support your work, and we rejoice in your victories, and we're sad with your tragedies. But you have to give us the freedom to take care of our own church in our own country in our own culture, and not to be controlled by people who have never heard a word of English, much less would allow a word of English to be spoken in the liturgy. We can't allow our church to be controlled by people who have no appreciation for our culture, and who have to bow to the Turkish Islamic authorities."

His Beatitude concludes by addressing the faithful, the clergy and the bishops in America and asking them totell the churches in the Old World: "There is an American Orthodox church. Leave it alone."

As Rod Dreher concludes his own post on the matter: "Boom! It's on. Hold on to your mitres."

I am unimaginably proud of His Beatitude and thank God for his words last evening.

It is worth your time to give a listen.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

p.s., The text of His Beatitude's sermon can be found here (NB: it is a pdf).

+FrG

Pan - Orthodox Sermon by His Beatitude Metropolitan Jonah @ Yahoo! Video

My Notes From Taylor's Presentation on Sexuality

Having referenced Debra Taylor's plenary session talk at CAPS in the post below, I thought some of my readers might be interested in the notes I took. (I could do this because my wife encouraged me to get a spiffy new netbook computer with an amazing 5-7 hours of battery life. Thank you Mary!) Needless to say, these note reflect what I took away from Taylor's presentation and any errors are mine and mine alone.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Debra Taylor, MA, “Prisoners of Hope: Is Healing Possible for Sexual Strugglers?”Institute for Sexual Wholeness (graduate program/ministry), Secrets of Eve (book)

Lk 4:18-19: The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me...: we are all of us the recipients of this same call to proclaim liberty to the captive, to set free those who are burdened and battered.

SECRETS OF EVE: survey of 2000 Christian women about the sexuality

Then and Now...

1. 
   
   Sexual desire
   1. 
      
      Women and sexual desire: we've been pathologizing women for being women
   2. 
      
      Masters & Johnson, Kaplan; desire—excitement--orgasm--resolution (linear model)
      1. 
         
         developed in a lab watching people having sex while hooked up to ekg and measuring sexual desire mechanically.
      2. 
         
         focused on women who were able to achieve orgasm through intercourse alone (only 1/3 of all women)
      3. 
         
         Question: is desire really the basis of sexuality in women? Is M&J model really true? And how is desire measured?
         1. 
            
            Inadvertently, many people—e specially women—were pathologized because their sexual desires did not match the research
2. 
   
   Basson's model of sexual desire: women's desire begins in sexual neutrality [You can download a pdf of the model here.]
   
   1. 
      
      Sexual stimuli (psychological factors)
   2. 
      
      Sexual arousal
   3. 
      
      sexual desire & arousal
   4. 
      
      emotional & physical satisfaction (orgasm not necessarily present)
   5. 
      
      emotional intimacy (and then, much her partner's confusion, sexual neutrality)
3. 
   
   Some, but not all, women, have spontaneous sexual desire. Some, but fewer still, have a higher sex drive then their partner
4. 
   
   Receptive desire counts (receptive desire IS sexual desire)
   1. 
      
      The central question from the research: Am I good enough

Body image

1. 
   
   primary factor influencing sexual desire in women
2. 
   
   98% women dissatisfied with their bodies
   1. 
      
      clinically and personally, the best thing I can do for the women in my life is to encourage in them a more positive body image
3. 
   
   protective factors
   1. 
      
      family of origin
   2. 
      
      gender role satisfaction
   3. 
      
      health
   4. 
      
      effective coping strategies (identify and resist harmful cultural stereotypes)
   5. 
      
      sense of holistic balance and wellness
4. 
   
   pain is a bigger problem than we knew in the 90's
   1. 
      
      we don't know the incidence of sexual pain disorders
   2. 
      
      little research has been done
   3. 
      
      1-6% of women have vaginsmus; 16-19% experience chronic or recurrent sexual pain.

STD's

1. 
   
   in the 1960's we knew about only 2 STD's syphilis & gonorrhea
2. 
   
   NOW we know about 30 STDs
3. 
   
   >50% of all people in the US will have an STD
4. 
   
   in a national survey of US physicians, fewer 1/3 test routinely for STD's
5. 
   
   50% sexually active persons will have an STD by 25 years of age
6. 
   
   2008 CDC reports HIV/AIDS spreading quickly among young males 13-24; number of males jumped 12%
7. 
   
   15% of all new HIV/AIDS cases are over 50

Prisoners of Hope

1. 
   
   hope is our most important tool
2. 
   
   to inspire hope in our clients, we have to experience hope ourselves
3. 
   
   what do you do when you lose hope?
   1. 
      
      What are my skills for maintaining/recovering hope in the face of human suffering?
   2. 
      
      Compassion is not a flaw, but a strength.

“Broken heart syndrome” a real, medical condition, we can physically die because of extreme sadness and lose.

Comment Section

The comment section was set to not allow anonymous comments. You should now again be able to leave comments without leaving an email address. My apologizes for those who have not been able to leave comments. Please let me know if you are still having trouble commenting.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory

Entrepreneurship & Evangelism: More Thoughts on the CAPS Conference

An interesting comment on economic recovery from Tyler Cowen of the Kauffman Foundation by way of Michael Giberson at the Knowledge Problem.  Referring to video of Cowen talking about blogging economics and other topics, Giberson quotes Cowen's  concluding comments on current economic conditions in the United States:

If there is one point I could get through about the mess we're in, it's that even if you think that the government needs to do something proactive, that is a holding action. Recovery is about entrepreneurship.

While Cowen's economic prescription has much to recommend it, what caught my attention is this: I think that it is not only the economic recovery but also the Church that needs to embrace the spirit of entrepreneurship.

Let me explain.

With the reception of Fr Peter Gillquist and the other clergy and lay members of former Evangelical Orthodox Church by the Antiochian Orthodox Archdiocese of American, there was an increase both in awareness of the importance of mission work and actual missionary activity undertaken both in the US and overseas by American Orthodox Christians. Unfortunately, as I have said before, that initial zeal was not always (in my opinion) always wisely guided and indeed has lead to an unfortunate narrowing of the Church's evangelistic outreach.

While not absolutely the case, in the main Orthodox evangelical outreach (especially in the US) tends to focus on disaffected mainline Protestant and Evangelical Christians and very little to either the vast number of unchurched Americans or our own lapsed Orthodox Christians.

Beyond our quasi-official policy of proselytizing and neglect of the unchurced and the fallen away, I am also concerned that we have largely neglected the worlds of academia and public policy and morality. While in the latter case there is some hopeful progress—f or example Fr Hans Jacobe's American Orthodox Institute—in the former situation we have limited our engagement to a few, woefully underfunded, campus ministry programs. And while we have built seminaries and one undergraduate college, after more than 200 years in the States, we still do not have even a viable parochial school system for our children.

All of this was very much on my mind this weekend while I was at the CAPS conference. In session after session, I saw people who desired the riches of the Great Tradition in both its Western and Eastern forms. Unfortunately, there was in attendance only two priests, myself representing the tradition of Orthodox Church and my friend Fr Christian Mathis, a Roman Catholic priest.

Let me say upfront, I am ambivalent about the lack of a numerically substantive Orthodox presence at CAPS. We have in the last 30 or so years gotten rather comfortable talking down to people. Oh granted, we're gracious when we do so, but in the main we are more comfortable talking to people who want to join the Church. We our happy to enter into conversation, really often a monologue, with those who affirm us, who see us the solution to their problems. We are less comfortable with those who wish to relate to us as peers—as our brothers and sisters in Christ.

I am not convinced that, with a few exceptions, we would prefer to avoid conversations with those people who have competencies and expertise in areas about which we know little or nothing. Let me offer an example of a CAPS presentation I found not only interesting and valuable but challenging.

On Saturday morning the first plenary session was presented by Debra Taylor, MA, of Institute for Sexual Wholeness (a graduate program/ministry focusing on sex therapy). Taylor offered us an update on the research into women's sexuality that she published in her book that she co-authored with Archibald D. Hart andCatherine Hart Weber, Secrets of Eve .

Taylor's presentation,“Prisoners of Hope: Is Healing Possible for Sexual Strugglers?”was a challenge to the gathering to imitate the words of Jesus in Lk 4:18-19: (the Spirit of the Lord is upon Me...) and ourselves as psychologists and pastors to proclaim liberty to the captive, to set free those who are burdened and battered in the area of sexuality.

What made the presentation unique was not just what was said, but what wasn't said. Taylor did not focus on sexual immorality—we did not hear about homosexuality, adultery, fornication, or masturbation. Instead she spoke with great eloquence on the suffering of married men and women as they try and understand each other's different, but equally legitimate, sexuality.

At the core of this struggle is not simply the fact that husbands typically don't understand their wives sexuality. This lack of understand is situated within a social (and for that matter, research) context that pathologizes women's sexuality and foster in women (and so also in men) an increasingly unrealistic and unnatural view of feminine sexuality and the woman's body.

Listening to Taylor as she related experiences from her own life and clinical practice, I wondered how I might apply her insights to my own pastoral work. How many married couples who come to see me either together or individually, I wondered, are suffering because of the very lack of mutual understanding that the speaker has articulated? Having spoken with current and former seminaries, I know that if sexuality is addressed at all in their coursework, it is only done so in terms of morality (and even this, I suspect, is rather deficient, but that's for another time). But sexuality is never addressed as it was in Taylor's work.

Considering the apologetic energy we expend on the fact that—u nlike Rome—we have a married clergy, this lacunae is troubling. If, as Taylor argued, many, even most, married couples suffer because of a lack of information about human sexuality, how can this not be true for clergy couples? And how can this lack of information not but have an negative influence not only on the personal lives of clergy couples, but the pastoral practice of the Church?

Let me return to the question of an entrepreneurial approach to outreach and evangelism. As in my experience at CAPS, as well as in my participation in other professional settings, I have found that my willingness to participate as a peer—albeit one who wears cassock, cross and cap—has always brought a rich reward both for me personally and for my ministry. And, not incidentally, it has also resulted in new Orthodox Christians.

Over the years, I have spoken with man men and women from various professions who have become (or have always been) Orthodox Christians. A consistent theme in the stories they tell me is the joy and gratitude to God they have for their Orthodox faith. But they also tell stories of frustration that there seems to be little interest among the clergy to make use of their professional skills and gifts. While these professionals are happy to be the spiritual children of the Church, they are also competent adults whose potential contribution to the Church is often greatly limited by the inability of the clergy to engage them as professional colleagues.

At its core, I think this inability of some—maybe even many—c lergy to engage the laity as professional peers (though different professionals to be sure) both is the reflects our limited vision of evangelical outreach and is also a contributing factor to our narrowness of vision.

One of the participates I spoke with at CAPS was quite taken by the patristic notion that what is not assumed by Christ is not redeemed. I wonder, are willing our we as a community and personally to work to redeem academia and the professions? Are we willing to engage those who challenge us not simply because of their interest in the spiritual life but because they bring to the Church skills and insights that are new to us?

Or, let me make this personal, do I want ADULT spiritual children who insist on the integrity and value of their own professional contributions to the life of the Church?

As always, your comments, questions and criticisms are not only welcome but encouraged.

In Christ,

+Fr Gregory