The pastoral nature of theology

[M.C. Steenberg]

A topic that has emerged out of points in recent threads, which I consider important, is the nature of theology in its pastoral dimension, which is really its only dimension.

Theology in the first-person, i.e. the theology experienced by the theologian, is the living engagement with, and union in, God himself. This is an old axiom of Orthodox Christianity—old because it is so foundational. Theology is communion. It is experience. And theology in the second- or third-person—that is, the communication of divine experience from one person to another in the Church—is always pastoral. It is the act of the shepherd (pastor), who guides and leads his flock in the right way. Such theology is above all sharing: taking the fruit of real experience and sharing it with another; but it is sharing as shepherd, sharing pastorally, sharing which draws the recipient up into life. The effect of right theology is not right understanding, it is a transformed life—a life that comes, in due course and at God’s behest, to the true communion of man and God. This is why in the Church we reserve the formal title ‘theologian’ to only a small few, noted not for their learning as much as their clear experience of God (though the Church in fact calls many, many saints ‘theologians’, the formal title is given only to a very small number). The theologian shares his or her experience, and others come into true experience through it.

Others in the Community have recently said, and I would wish to echo with my paraphrase here, that theology and doctrine, abstracted from this pastoral dimension of experience enabling experience, becomes essentially empty. More, it becomes essentially demonic. Theology is pastoral, in this fullest sense, or it is deadly. To bring up in this context a quotation of Vladimir Lossky that I recently raised in another: ‘Between the Trinity and hell, there is no other choice’. Christian doctrine is not about right understanding or comfortable perception: it is about life. Its opposite is not wrong understanding; its opposite is death.

This is what makes true theology life-giving and quickening. Our zeal in ensuring that true experience is articulated rightly, cannot be grounded in a desire to see truth abstracted into conceptual terms. It has, rather, to be grounded in the conviction that false articulation, however comfortable, reasonable, approachable, gentle it may seem, ultimately shepherds falsely. This is not—not—to say that right articulation is itself capable of shepherding rightly. At no point does the Church say that proper doctrine saves. It is a tool of the Church, not the Church herself. But false doctrine can kill.

Our joy in the engagement with articulated theology—that is, with doctrines and teachings of the Church—needs us to be grounded in this critical dimension. Above all else, true articulation heals. It leads to life only if it is the expression of a conversion of heart that is worked inwardly; but it is a true aspect of that guidance and shepherding. And this is why the truly pastoral nature of theology means that it is expressed most fully in obedient ascesis, rather than intellectual stimulus. Theology is traditioned in the Church as a living expression, into which we are called to obedient transformation. It draws us toward life when it converts our minds and hearts. It is thwarted when we pierce it with our wills.

Expressions of theology, its articulations and definitions, oftentimes require technical elaboration. This was, above most else, the focus of the ecumenical councils. Terms like ‘hypostasis’, ‘ousia’, ‘nature’, ‘becoming’, ‘relation’, ‘consubstantial’, et cetera, are exceedingly useful: they can, in their proper context, ensure that the articulation of theology, its sharing from one person to another in a way that promotes true and transfiguring experience, is not hindered through false expression. But their power is drained when they are taken out of the arena of living experience, into a forum of abstracted dialogue. Then they, too, are made lifeless. Our task ought really not be either to decide whether they are critical or not, whether we wish to focus on them or not; our task is to find the ascetical path of living conversion and engagement with God handed on in the Church. Our charge is to witness the shepherd, and to be shepherded. We will find, in this, that there are times when these seemingly technical definitions and perhaps foreign terms are unessential to receiving that shepherding and growth; and we will find, too, times when a once-technical and foreign term suddenly springs to life as a true wellspring in our advance, protecting us from deviations off the pathway to real growth that the Church has encountered before. If we think that a right understanding of ‘hypostasis’ (as just one example) will save us, we will find out, one way or another and one day sooner or later, how wrong we are; yet if we reject ‘hypostasis’ and its articulation as ‘too technical’, ‘too remote’, ‘too abstract’, we may well find, one day when we do not expect it, that we have stumbled upon a frightening spiritual trap from which it was meant to protect and aid us.

We must always remember, in our discussions on the articulations of doctrine, this pastoral nature of the Church’s and fathers’ work. These discussions are good, and can be fruitful. But behind and within each is the shepherding from experience to experience. The frank reality behind this fact is that real theology, expressed, demands the conversion of the heart; and the heart is regularly held captive by our wills, our minds, our expectations. But true theology demands the crucifixion of the will—and everything the will insists it is happiest with, most comfortable with, least frustrated with, most ready to accept. This will must be crucified and put to death. And precisely here, the true hope of theology as experience: it lays the will to death, not to kill it, but to join it to true life. Only a will thus crucified can be united fully, wholly, without any encumbrance to Christ’s resurrection.

INXC, Deacon Matthew

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

Fr Dn Mattew wrote:


We must always remember, in our discussions on the articulations of doctrine, this pastoral nature of the Church’s and fathers’ work. These discussions are good, and can be fruitful. But behind and within each is the shepherding from experience to experience. The frank reality behind this fact is that real theology, expressed, demands the conversion of the heart; and the heart is regularly held captive by our wills, our minds, our expectations. But true theology demands the crucifixion of the will—and everything the will insists it is happiest with, most comfortable with, least frustrated with, most ready to accept. This will must be crucified and put to death. And precisely here, the true hope of theology as experience: it lays the will to death, not to kill it, but to join it to true life. Only a will thus crucified can be united fully, wholly, without any encumbrance to Christ’s resurrection.

If I could add a few points about internet communication since I believe that this truly enters into what we are discussing here.

In a parish setting many of our tendencies towards self will are being continually tested. The discipline we learn from our priest/spiritual father and the life of the parish often extends to other parts of our lives.

However the internet opens up a whole new world which can rapidly break down this setting unless we really take it in hand. Through the internet any of us can suddenly become verbal theologians without the visible & present checks that serve us to walk with care in the parish setting.

Here exactly is where the danger to a true pastoral theology becomes most acute. Since what we are really talking about is a sense of spiritual responsibility then we must be alert to the temptations offered by this medium of communication.

As already mentioned the internet allows anyone that opportunity to be a 'theologian' in word detached from the refining ascetic life as set within the Church. Note though the use of the word 'opportunity' since we also can communicate here in a responsible manner that is consistent with a life within the Church that we already have.

Our communcation then must continually be held to a responsible standard that follows naturally from our life of commitment as already led from within the Church. Only in this way can communication be theological and without it falling into the individual and speculative.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Owen Jones]

Based on my own narrow, personal experience, parish life is not so self-correcting, in fact, not as self-correcting as monachos, because you frankly do not get the immediate response you need if you are out of line, and resentments and ill will can fester for decades.

[Owen Jones]

I also think one of the unspoken themes of monachos is the all too frequent frustrations encountered in parish life, especially among people who feel it important and necessary to have an opportunity to witness to their faith. And so monachos provides that opportunity which Orthodox parishes generally do not.

As to the topic, which has been intermittently addressed on monachos, I'm glad to have a specific thread on this and am looking forward to learning Patristic examples of the pastoral nature of theology. We used to have a joke in my (Episcopalian) seminary regarding "pastoral theology." The textbook was called "How to Look Interested."

[Andreas Moran]

Monachos is not a virtual parish but it is a valuable complement for the reason Owen indicates.

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

Based on my own narrow, personal experience, parish life is not so self-correcting, in fact, not as self-correcting as monachos, because you frankly do not get the immediate response you need if you are out of line, and resentments and ill will can fester for decades.

What I was thinking of was the all of the purifying elements of churchly community be it the parish or family or monastery or whatever. Here due to the immediacy of this community, to the persons in immediate contact with us, many of our own ideas are purified. In terms of this discussion theology can result. Of course though I'm speaking about a situation where one struggles to be humble.

The internet can offer some of this I think but still cannot provide that ascetic life of trial & refinement that the parish or other Church community can. Its temptations precisely are to speak not from within the Church life as lived ascetically and by trial but as a kind of playground for speculative exercise.

In terms of this discussion then which is about the pastoral nature of theology I think it critical that we speak here (and that we make this a rule) from that ascetic life we already live and experience within the parish and/or larger Church community.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Andreas Moran]

The internet can offer some of this I think but still cannot provide that ascetic life of trial & refinement that the parish or other Church community can.

Experiences of parishes will vary but I identify with what Owen has said. I got nothing in the way of 'purifying of ideas' in a parish. I agree that this forum is not a subsitute for engagement with people 'for real' as it were, but where such engagement is lacking to any degree, this forum, I have found, is both a corrective to our own ideas and affords new insights. It is important that, as Fr Raphael has said, we speak here from the ascetic life that we live in the Church , and I think we do. Perhaps some of us are occasionally speculative but the quality of the moderation is such that we are brought back onto the straight and narrow.


In terms of this discussion then which is about the pastoral nature of theology I think it critical that we speak here (and that we make this a rule) from that ascetic life we already live and experience within the parish and/or larger Church community.

I wonder how many of us feel that we are living out our ascetic life in community with others? In the wider sense of being all in the Church, yes. But otherwise? For me I can share this life only with my wife. I may be influenced by my own experience but I suspect many Orthodox Christians live out their lives in degrees of isolation. If this is right, this is an aspect of pastoral theology which ought to be addressed.

[Rick H.]

I think it is very interesting how a conversation about the elaboration and articulation of theology in its pastoral dimension has so quickly turned to the practical application of it and what is lacking in the parish life in Orthodoxy today. My experience is the same as Owen's and I think Andreas has his finger right on the pulse of things with his suspicions.

I remember being taught about fasting our first year in an Orthodox parish. I remember my wife was happy to be a part of a community in this way. As we headed into our first Christmas season my wife would take special lunches to work and comment about how it felt very good to be a part of a community in this way, knowing that there were other Christians in our parish doing this very same thing. I was very happy to see this in her. About two weeks before Christmas our parish had an event where we all brought in food dishes. That Sunday morning the tables were pushed together and full of food. The fellowship hall was packed with people. I can still remember the look on my wife's face when she realized the tables were jam packed with meats and cheeses and all kinds of food that she couldn't eat. The wine was flowing the conversation(s) were very loud. My wife started to cry and we left.

Yes, Andreas, degrees of isolation. I wonder too.

Yes, Fr. Dcn. Matthew, theology in the first person and the second and third.

For those who are tracking with me here, in some ways, in light of the above comments/posts about Orthodox parish life today, how can practical theology not be individual to varying degrees? Hmmm . . . a radical individualism?

[M.C. Steenberg]

The correlate of theology as pastoral, is the human response in a living obedience.

The pastoral nature of true theology means that it is always relational. It is grounded in experience: the theologian experiences and sees God; and it is ‘traditioned’, or handed-on/shared from the one in whom this experience has flowered, to the one who might grow into deeper experience by it. So the core of theology itself is the relation of the human person to God in union with him; and the core of theology as handed on and received is the relation of offerer and recipient.

What this means is that there is no such thing as theology without receipt, and this is part of what makes theology inherently pastoral. God does not reveal himself ‘generically’ into the cosmos; he reveals himself to man. God does not bestow communion with himself on nothing, or abstractly; he draws up the person into deifying union with himself. And expression of this union is not passed on from the theologian to the ether, or to a general pool of ‘wisdom’: it is passed on to the suffering person. The Church preserves the testimony of this deifying ‘traditioning’ in the embrace of her own deified life in the holy mysteries, being thereby the harbour in which the suffering find the guidance required to attain true life.

At the end of the day, this means that real theology, articulated and passed on, requires a change in the one who receives it. Since it is relational, it can only be received in relation; and since the relation is ultimately between God and the human person, it is the person who is charged to be transformed in the relation, not God. So true theology demands not only that the theologian truly experience God, but that the one who receives theology as articulated in the Church, if he or she is to attain true theology personally, be conformed to the God of this true union and experience.

This is at the root of the genuine concept of obedience, which is a necessary ingredient for any and all theology. True obedience is not a slavish adherence to ‘what someone else says to do or to believe’; this is a debasement not only of obedience, but also of truth, of experience, of theology itself—which is ultimately not about what one is told to believe, but what one is able to become. True obedience is the only correlate to the pastoral nature of theology itself. If theology means to shepherd, then it requires one who would be shepherded. Obedience, then, is the free entering of the whole will, mind and heart, together with the body and the whole human creature, into the relation towards which theological doctrine draws us.

Obedience is a life given back, given away, so that it can be received rejuvenated and purified by Christ. It is the living response of one who sees theology truly as pastoral, as shepherd; who recognises that that theology does not exist to satisfy his mind or curiosity, but to lead him into a newness of life. And so real obedience is not a yielding to some passive lack of interaction with truth and life: it is precisely the full engagement of the whole person, whole-heartedly, with Christ the good and true shepherd—as shepherd, who will lead, change, transform and transfigure.

There is a tendency in modern man (though there has always been this tendency; it is not exclusively modern, though it has a marked home in the modern day) to debase obedience as secondary, as unessential, as negative. Yet when we see theology in its real sense, as shepherd into the true theology of real experience, then authentic obedience is the only response in which it can flower. We must remind ourselves again and again that the saints, when we discover their lives in the menaia and synaxaria, are extolled as theologians because of their living obedience; and that Christ himself is exalted by St Paul, as by so many others, as the truly obedient one—the one into whose life we are drawn.

So our charge, in approaching theology as genuinely pastoral, is to discover and rediscover in ourselves an obedience that allows us to become theological. It is the only way, and it is a way filled with all the depth the Church has to offer—a depth that goes beyond and created limitation, any obstacle. We are charged to ask ourselves, again and again: how am I allowing this doctrine, which is the experienced theology handed on in the Church, to conform my will to that of the Good Shepherd? How am I offering myself into this transformation through a crucifixion of my desires, expectations, understandings? How far am I presenting an unfettered heart and will to Christ, who can then transform it?

INXC, Deacon Matthew

[Mary]

Oh, I really really like this discussion, except, the concepts and words and sentences are so big, that I can't seem to remember the beginning when I get to the end.

Please, please tell me, if I've understood correctly:

True theology/doctrine is practical - it has to be lived out, and cause change in our lives, or else, it is just meaningless speculation. Even if it is accurate, it is useless, when it isn't practiced.

This True Theology/doctrine cannot be practiced in this way, on an online forum. It can only be practiced in the our homes and parishes.

I too, have experienced, as others have, that the conversations during our coffee hour after liturgy, are far from edifying, and I have learned many valuable things here. BUT, all the things I've learned here, are of no good to me, if I don't put them into practice at home and at my parish.

As an example... I think, one thing many of us on this forum have been learning, is how to not jump to conclusions when we read what someone has written... we are more patient, we give each other time to explain what we meant, and we all seem to be aware of the fact that many misunderstandings can be caused, so we seem to be a bit less judgmental towards each other... Last year, I remember many threads which would quickly disintegrate into arguments and had to be buried. No one could talk about anything controversial, without igniting someone else. But things have changed...

Now - if I am non-judgmental online, but I am judgmental face to face, then, all my non-judgmental posts and thoughts here, are meaningless.

But if I use the lessons I learn here, such as: Dont' make assumptions, give the person time and space to explain themselves, dont' jump to conclusions, etc.... and apply them to my relationships with family and friends... then I'm getting somewhere, and my discussion here, aren't empty and meaningless.

Is that sort of the gist of what is being said?

in Christ,
mary.

[Andreas Moran]

Theology is the medicine prescribed by the Church as hospital of souls and as administered by the 'medical staff', the clergy. The pastoral application of theology 'for the healing of body and soul' is the purpose of theology. Theology is the way the Church cures souls made sick by the world or, as it might be termed, secularism. If theology is not applied as a cure of souls, but engaged in merely as ideas, then it itself is secularised and it cannot cure but, as Fr Dcn Matthew indicated, becomes part of that world which is ruled by the devil.

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

Andreas wrote:



I wonder how many of us feel that we are living out our ascetic life in community with others? In the wider sense of being all in the Church, yes. But otherwise? For me I can share this life only with my wife. I may be influenced by my own experience but I suspect many Orthodox Christians live out their lives in degrees of isolation. If this is right, this is an aspect of pastoral theology which ought to be addressed.

The specific point I am addressing here can be provided by the following example:

I am in the middle of composing a post here online and a parishioner phones who is sick or in need of help. Which comes first?

I hope we already know the answer to this because it is so obvious.

My point then is to go more deeply into why the one has a greater priority than the other. After all in both cases real people are involved as well as interaction with them.

I think how we answer this touches very profoundly the question at hand in our discussion.

The internet for all of its genuine positive aspects needs to be approached with great care. This I think is because of the unique way in which it offers the possibility of expression detached from that ascetic community of obedience as found within the Church. In other words I would say since the internet is not an ascetic community of the same nature as our parish, monastery or family then it must be approached with appropriate caution in mind.

Here I have to say that any sense of how we have learned a lot here from our interaction inceases my concern all the more. If the silence urged on me within the parish setting is offset by my words here, is this really something godly? Are the results really theological? After all it is a Patristic principle that means & words are consistent. One of the chief temptations in our times then to true theology which needs to be kept firmly in mind is skirting around the ongoing trial of the community where God puts us.

I think then that what we bring here must firmly flow from our experience and lives as already being lived within the Church. If our communciation here really furthers this then really this is wonderful. But if because of how it offers such a unique outlet for communication it begins to operate as an alternative community to the Church, ie it provides us with the means to express ourselves in ways unlikely in the Church itself- then we need to question what of it is truly theological or pastoral.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Matthew Panchisin]

Dear Father Raphael,

I agree with much of what you have said, I have mentioned to you in the past that many things that are discussed here simply are not part of Church life in many ways. I recall mentioning that if I asked Archbishop Alypy or Met. Larus of blessed memory to discuss women priests I would be told something like "Go in front of the icons and pray to the Mother of God not to think like that" on a very good day. Owen and Andreas have mentioned things that are lacking in parish seem to be made up for here to some extent. The Holy Spirit is everywhere present and fillest all things. Yet intellectual conversation can be a temptation for experience as we all know. The Church does not breed intellectualism, it can though sanctify the whole man. In reality the crucifixions of the intellect, being constrained is often something that monastics do. I think we are to as well to some extents. It really is a different experience here than Church life for sure.

Sometimes I see this place as way too loose, unconstrained and potentially very dangerous as well as seen and actualized as such in reality. Yet it also is a very dear to many of us for the so very many wonderful conversations, warmth and friendships that have been established over the years through its formation. I would say it is a very good place as long as we always notice that other people read things here and many are interesting in learning more or being grafted onto the true vine, the Orthodox Church of the Seven Ecumenical Councils.

I think that we all understand that liturgically the parable of the Good Samaritan is to transcend a one day reading to every day life. This is true whether our behavior is experienced with the members and readers of Monachos.net or at our Church, seen as the inn inn patristic thought. "And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him."

We might ask, have we fallen among thieves, the demons, as the heterodox that are deceived by wolves in sheep's clothing that can do some hurtful things like "stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead." All of us struggle not to be sinful but when our sinful behavior works against leading people to the Church, the one that truly heals, then we are to be moderated from within or otherwise I think. Are we disappointed with the inn, it's hospitality and our experiences with others in the inn, the Church. So what Monachos ends up doing, it's purpose depends very much on who we are and our behaviors as well as the very serious responsibilities of the moderators in the pastoral dimension as Father Deacon Matthew and others have articulated. Clearly I'm sure we should not hinder the works of the innkeepers because we have ideas that we want to express that we think are helping others but may very well be working with the thieves in the process. We are to be Good Samaritans, "Go and do likewise."

Here is some information to consider regarding The Parable of the Good Samaritan from a few websites.

The Parable of the Good Samaritan is only in the Evangelist Luke's Gospel (Luke 10:25-37), and is read on the 25th Sunday after Pentecost. This is always very close to the Nativity Fast. Why is the reading of this parable particularly apropos at this time of the year? There is a much deeper meaning to this parable than the external aspects of it. Think of the implications of the event that Nativity fast prepares us for. This parable displays those implications in a The wondrous and hidden way. The external aspect of the parable of the Good Samaritan is a teaching concerning true charity. The inner meaning is a wonderful description of the ministry of Jesus Christ, and the effects of the incarnation on the state of man. At the time of year we read this parable, we are close to the Nativity Fast, which prepares us for the commemoration of the incarnation.

One Jew, a lawyer, desiring to justify himself since the Jews considered "their neighbors" to be only Jews and all others to be held in contempt asked Jesus Christ, "And who is my neighbor?"

In order to teach people to consider every other person as their neighbor, no matter who he might be of whatever nationality, or descent, or belief; and also that we must be compassionate and merciful to all people, doing what we can to help those in need and misfortune, Jesus Christ answered him with a parable.

"A man (a Jew) was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him, and beat him, and departed leaving him half-dead. Now by chance, a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite (a Jewish church official), when he came to the place and saw him, he passed by on the other side.

"But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was. (The Jews despised the Samaritans so much that they would not have sat at the same table with them and even tried to avoid speaking to them). When the Samaritan saw him covered with wounds, he had compassion on him. He went to him and bound up his wounds pouring on them oil and wine. Then, he set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii (a denarius was a Roman silver coin) and gave them to the innkeeper saying, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, I repay you when I come back’."

Then, Jesus Christ asked the lawyer, "Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?"

The lawyer replied, "The one who showed mercy on him (that is, the Samaritan)."

And Jesus Christ said to him, "Go and do likewise."

Note: See the Gospel of Luke 10:29-37.

The parable of the Good Samaritan besides its direct and clear concept of love for every neighbor also has an allegorical, profound, and mystical meaning according to the teachings of the Holy Fathers.

The man going from Jerusalem to Jericho is none other than our forefather Adam and in his person all humanity. Not remaining steadfast in the good and losing the blessedness of Paradise, Adam and Eve were compelled to leave the "Heavenly Jerusalem" (Paradise) and to wander in the world where they immediately encountered calamities and every possible adversity. The robbers are the diabolic powers which envied the innocent condition of man and enticed him onto the road of sin depriving our fore-parents of faithfulness to the commandments of God (of life in Paradise). The wounds are the sores of sin weakening us. The priest and Levite represent the Law given to us through Moses and the clergy in the person of Aaron, which by themselves cannot save man. The image of the Good Samaritan refers to Jesus Christ Himself, Who for the healing of our infirmities under the appearance of oil and wine gave to us the New Testament law and grace. The inn is the Church of God in which is found everything necessary for our healing, and the innkeeper is the pastors and teachers in the Church to whom God entrusts the care of the flock. The morning departure of the Samaritan is the Resurrection and Ascension of Christ, and the two denarii given to the innkeeper are Divine Revelation kept by means of Scripture and Holy Tradition. Finally, the promise of the Samaritan to stop at the inn on his return-trip to settle the debt is an indication of the second coming of Jesus Christ to earth when He shall reward every man according to his works (Matt. 16:27).

In more context here:

http://www.orthodox.net/questions/luke-10-25-37-parable-good-samaritan.html

[Owen Jones]

In fairness, Fr. Raphael, you are a priest and your experiences in a parish are quite different than ours.

As to the specific topic, we are taking a look at Acts in a parish "Bible Study" class. The priest is at pains to point out how certain Orthodox teachings and practices are there from the beginning, but as priests are often wont to do, he tends to focus on the formalistic aspects of them, i.e. the role of the Bishop and the Deacon, etc., but what has impressed me this go around is the strong focus on healing, purification, glorification, the miraculous in its many manifestations, the dramatic, immediate changes that take place in peoples' lives, e.g. the baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch. As a certain comedian would say, "get 'er done!" These days we seem to talk around the issues for ever. Another case is when Simon, the newly converted sorcerer, wants to know how much it will cost him to purchase some of that Holy Spirit power. And boy did Stephen rip into him -- that he was filled with bitterness for example and that he had better fly right or there was going to be hell to pay. Which raises a whole host of practical theological questions. I think we tend to be too polite on the things that matter, assuming that's pastoral, and impolite on the things that don't matter at all.

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

In fairness, Fr. Raphael, you are a priest and your experiences in a parish are quite different than ours.

As to the specific topic, we are taking a look at Acts in a parish "Bible Study" class. The priest is at pains to point out how certain Orthodox teachings and practices are there from the beginning, but as priests are often wont to do, he tends to focus on the formalistic aspects of them, i.e. the role of the Bishop and the Deacon, etc., but what has impressed me this go around is the strong focus on healing, purification, glorification, the miraculous in its many manifestations, the dramatic, immediate changes that take place in peoples' lives, e.g. the baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch. As a certain comedian would say, "get 'er done!" These days we seem to talk around the issues for ever. Another case is when Simon, the newly converted sorcerer, wants to know how much it will cost him to purchase some of that Holy Spirit power. And boy did Stephen rip into him -- that he was filled with bitterness for example and that he had better fly right or there was going to be hell to pay. Which raises a whole host of practical theological questions. I think we tend to be too polite on the things that matter, assuming that's pastoral, and impolite on the things that don't matter at all.

I think I hear you Owen. At times we need to speak out otherwise the obvious continues to not be warned about. It's like if you're on a long bus ride and you are about to come to a patch of the road that's very rough. Somebody needs to warn the passengers to recollect themselves and to sit down so as to reach their destination safely.

So here also- the last week or so saw a flurry of activity as if what is offered here is a huge sheaf of blank sheets that provide the opportunity to express oneself. There is the mistaken notion that no one, from priests to deacons to other faithful Orthodox Christians need to really be listened to. I suppose this is because as compared to a parish or community setting where such things would find short shrift this appears to be a very open ended & convenient environment for self expression.

I say this because although we try to speak from modest pastoral & real experience, avoiding the audacity of thinking of ourselves as theologians, the danger still remains of seeing the environment here as if it was the doorway to a room filled with endless space. In this space because there are so few of the normal churchly checks- obvious & immediate personal encounter being not the least of these- there is a much greater risk to engaged and responsible churchly communication.

My main point then to 'the passengers on board this bus' is simply of the ongoing responsiblity we have to the principles of the Forum. Here extra effort is needed so that we do not only think that by these principles we are trying to impose order in order to avoid chaos. Much more than this- at least as I take it- we are actually trying to ensure an environment as close to that of the Church as possible whose order of continual personal encounter serves to check & purify our efforts of expression.

The question could well be asked what any of this has to do with the discussion on this thread. However these thoughts came to mind directly from what our Fr Dn Matthew posted to begin the thread. For our discussions to bear real fruit they must be based on a lived reality of experience such as the Church has always known. It's theology must be pastoral. And in our case as it applies here this needs a continual added level of self responsiblity so as to make it so.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Anna Stickles]

But if because of how it offers such a unique outlet for communication it begins to operate as an alternative community to the Church, ie it provides us with the means to express ourselves in ways unlikely in the Church itself- then we need to question what of it is truly theological or pastoral.

There is, I think a positive aspect to this unique outlet. Often in our parish, there is not any outlet for serious theological discussion. If we are lucky maybe our parish has small group Bible studies, if not then our interactions are limited to talking about the weather and whatever other small talk happens after liturgy at the coffee hour.

I guess it's good to differentiate between expression that is self-expression and pushing my opinion, and discussion that is engaged in the spirit of humility and a desire for transformation. But at best in the parish setting there is little oppertunity for either, unless the self-expression is on the order of dicussing one's opinions on politics.

Dcn Matthew has said,
And theology in the second- or third-person—that is, the communication of divine experience from one person to another in the Church—is always pastoral. It is the act of the shepherd (pastor), who guides and leads his flock in the right way. Such theology is above all sharing: taking the fruit of real experience and sharing it with another; but it is sharing as shepherd, sharing pastorally, sharing which draws the recipient up into life. The effect of right theology is not right understanding, it is a transformed life—a life that comes, in due course and at God’s behest, to the true communion of man and God. This is why in the Church we reserve the formal title ‘theologian’ to only a small few, noted not for their learning as much as their clear experience of God

Maybe not all of us, or any of us on this forum are capable of theology to any degree that would earn the name theologian. Aren't those who are called theologians by the Church precisely called this because they have had the annointing to speak to the Church as a whole -across cultures and persons? This Theologian's theology is timeless and eternal. That does not mean that there are not many degrees to which real sharing can take place person to person.

We all have at least some small experience to share, maybe not the experience of God, but at least the experience of living in the Church or dealing with people in a virtuous way or experience with Scripture and the Fathers that maybe those who don't have as much time to read or study may not otherwise have had access to. These are the valuable things that I find here and I am appreciative of them and of those who are willing to share them. We are helping each other to grow, and God in His mysterious ways, uses this too to transform us. And that approached rightly is something unique that this forum offers that all too often just doesn't happen in the parish.

That is not to deny the real problem with our abuse of the system. Guilty as charged. Not only in terms of self-expression and allowing it to at times take over present responsiblities at home, but also selectively reading the people I relate to most and ignoring others I don't like to listen to etc. We wouldn't get away with this in the parish, but as I said, the type of discussion that opens up this temptation simply isn't going on in the parish many times.

I guess in our times, all around, there is much more need for a personal asceticism, discernment and responsibility because many of the external constraints are disappearing. As a parent I constantly battle with being asked the question, "Why do we have to do this this way?" on rules of ettique and behavior and because there are no longer any community rules, but each family has there own rules, I am left saying, "Because I said so." Which with teens basically comes down to my personal preferences against their's.

[Owen Jones]

The question of or definition of authority has come up, and perhaps it would be good to try to examine this issue a little closer in our treatment of the pastoral nature of theology. I would say that authority is of two kinds. There is the authority of the office, so to speak, the authority that inheres in the office of, for example, priest or parent. This is a real but limited or conditional authority. If the parent says to the child -- do this because I said so -- it will either be respected and obeyed or not. If disobeyed, what are the reasons why not? Because the cultural ambience of nihilism and disobedience has already infected the child? Or because there is an element of hypocrisy in the parent that undermines the authority? Or some combination? Other factors? The manner in which the law is laid down perhaps? If it is through screaming and yelling? Or combined with an attitude of contempt? Likewise, if a priest has a kind of arrogant detachment from the person or situation? Or perhaps the person has had some bad experience with another priest and therefore is not respectful in general of priests?

So there really has to be another element to authority for it to be "valid." Or having true spiritual power. So there is a formalistic aspect to authority, and some other quality that must be there as well. On the flip side, if someone is extremely persuasive through his speech and therefore gains the loyalty of his followers who willingly bend to his authority, and yet his words are false, what then?

What this means is that the person in a position of spiritual authority or influence over another is really under a great obligation to get it right, to be living it, to have undergone some inner transformation such that not only the words are right and true but the manner of delivering them are right and true.

In the case of Philip and Simon, although it is not made explicit in the text, Philip must radiate a kind of true spiritual authority when he criticizes Simon for his attitude toward the Holy Spirit, otherwise Simon would not, could not have felt repentance in his heart. Philip does not argue, ipso facto, that just because hands have been laid on him, he therefore has some kind of absolute authority over Simon. Something has happened, some change has taken place, and Simon senses, feels his sinfulness in a way that leads to a positive outcome, not just a reaction to criticism, which is what most of us feel when we are criticized.

Every Christian in some way must incorporate this inner authority, else we are simply mocked and scorned, and rightly so, by others. There must be some attribute or set of attributes that sets us apart. Some inner light if you will that attracts rather then repels.

[Mary]

Every Christian in some way must incorporate this inner authority, else we are simply mocked and scorned, and rightly so, by others. There must be some attribute or set of attributes that sets us apart. Some inner light if you will that attracts rather then repels.

Perhaps, it is called: "Speaking the Truth in Love"?

[Anna Stickles]

Owen,

I can really appreciate what you say here. I think what often happens is that the person in office, having no real inner authority tries to force others into obedience, using the office rather then developing a character of love and holiness that evokes in others an obedient resonse. Getting the other person to obey or do becomes the goal, rather then a relationship based on humility and our own limitations. I know with my kids that most of their bad habits, start with my bad example at some level. But I have learned to joke about it and we work on things as a family.



if someone is extremely persuasive through his speech and therefore gains the loyalty of his followers who willingly bend to his authority, and yet his words are false, what then?



The bible talks of the false teacher as one who tells people what they want to here and this appeal to selfish interests is why people obey -because they think that they are getting what they want.



So there is a formalistic aspect to authority, and some other quality that must be there as well.


If I ask myself what other quality must be there I would say that it is love -not sentimental emotional feel goods, but the kind of love that Paul evinces when he says,


I Cor 9:18 Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. 20To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. 21To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law), so as to win those not having the law. 22To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. 23I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.


There is the Christian, often young or new to the church, who takes the words and concepts they have been given and holds them tight and defends them believing -This is the truth and the only Orthodox truth (I've seen this in all the traditions not just Orthodoxy) and to some extent they are right to hold onto what they have been given for this is life for them, they do not realize though that truth is more then this.

Then there are those who realize that what they have been taught is not absolutely true in any sense, because many even of the Saints and Theologians of the Church seem to be saying contradictory things. Then there is more willingness and ability to listen to others, to stretch beyond legalistic formulations, but still not being grounded fully in God or the Church the tendency is to think there is no ultimate truth, or to go through all kinds of rational gyrations trying to integrate all the contradictory teachings in a way that the rational mind can control or grasp.

And maybe even for those who have gone beyond this and have grasped the experience of God and the Church more fully, still they tend to offer it in words according to their own modes of thinking.

Paul, here though, is fully grounded in He who is Truth, so many times he says not just, "listen to what I say", but "follow my example." And he is able to take the truth that he knows and translate into words and concepts depending on the personal situation, culture or spiritual maturity of those he is speaking to. He moves into their mindset, their way of understanding without losing the essential Christ who he is preaching, and in this is able to offer his hand to lead them upward. This is an echo of the condescension of Christ. This for me is the essence of Pastoral Theology.

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

Owen wrote:


The question of or definition of authority has come up, and perhaps it would be good to try to examine this issue a little closer in our treatment of the pastoral nature of theology. I would say that authority is of two kinds. There is the authority of the office, so to speak, the authority that inheres in the office of, for example, priest or parent. This is a real but limited or conditional authority...

So there really has to be another element to authority for it to be "valid." Or having true spiritual power...

What this means is that the person in a position of spiritual authority or influence over another is really under a great obligation to get it right, to be living it, to have undergone some inner transformation such that not only the words are right and true but the manner of delivering them are right and true.

I really like how what has been written above by Owen ends up at his last paragraph. In fact most of those given the obedience of authority within the Church deeply question how this authority matches up with the most evident weakness of the person bearing the authority. Since positive striving is obvious does this mean that authority is a kind of quid pro quo of "I will listen as long as you are good?" Not only does this put those in authority into an impossible position of jumping through hoops never high enough in order for people to listen; it also opens up a whole pandora's box of self will and selfishness for those called to obedience in relation to authority.

Since many of the themes involved in this question have already been discussed on the Forum before I don't want to go into them too much here. Let it just suffice to say that all of our strivings within the Church actually are within a community of obedience. These two must always be tied together so that self will is prevented on the one hand and slavish obedience is avoided on the other. Within the Church such can be avoided because we all together are struggling to operate according to a higher divine standard.

This is why I think the Church community(ies) we are part of are so essential- be it the parish, monastery, family or whatever. Within this community as enlivened through the Holy Spirit a new way of life is found that works through the weaknesses of all involved. But a basic humility and obedience is called for. Without this- if one clings resolutely to ones own will- then abuses and a breaking down of the community result.

It is within this larger experience of the Church that true theology of a pastoral nature is found. It does not require perfection but rather setting out on the path towards purification that comes from the continual scrubbing away of impurities that results from continual contact with others within the Church community. As long as each member of the community acts with a degree of humble sensitivity to whomever is encountered then the whole is drawn together. This works without anyone having to lord it over others and thus overcomes the problem of having our obedience dependent on others.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Matthew Panchisin]

Dear all,

I think this recent article might be a good read for all, it seems to indicate that the Church by means liturgical lives embraced is to be our sovereign.

Theological education in the 21st century. Excerpt from a lecture of Bishop Hilarion (Alfeyev) at Wycliffe College, University of Toronto October 22, 2008

According to a classical definition by Evagrius, 'If you are a theologian, you will pray truly. And if you pray truly, you are a theologian'. In traditional Orthodox understanding, theology is not a science, or a scholarship, or an academic exercise. To be a theologian means to have experience of a personal encounter with God through prayer and worship.

Theology ought to be inspired by God: it ought not to be the word of a human person, but the word of the Spirit pronounced by human lips. A true Christian theologian is one who is able to be silent until the Holy Spirit touches the strings of his soul. And it is only when the human word falls silent and the word of the Spirit emerges from his soul, that true theology is born. From this moment 'a lover of words' is transformed into 'a lover of wisdom', a rhetorician into a theologian.

According to St Gregory Nazianzen, not everyone can be a theologian, but only the one who purifies himself for God. Not all can participate in theological discussions, but only those who are able to do it properly. Finally, not every theological concern can be discussed openly:

Discussion of theology is not for everyone, I tell you, not for everyone - it is no such inexpensive and effortless pursuit... It must be reserved for certain occasions, for certain audiences, and certain limits must be observed. It is not for all men, but only for those who have been tested and have found a sound footing in study, and, more importantly, have undergone, or at the very least are undergoing, purification of body and soul.

Theology, according to St Gregory, is nothing other than the ascent to God. Gregory uses the traditional image of Moses on Mount Sinai to emphasize that the true theologian is only someone who is able to enter the cloud and encounter God face to face. In this multidimensional, allegorical picture Moses symbolizes the person whose theology emerges from the experience of an encounter with God. Aaron represents someone whose theology is based on what he heard from others; Nadab and Abihu typify those who claim to be theologians because of their high position in the church hierarchy. But neither acquaintance with the experience of others nor an ecclesiastical rank gives one the right to declare oneself a theologian. Those Christians who purify themselves according to God's commandments may take part in a theological discussion; the non-purified ought not.

Thus, purification of soul is a necessary precondition for practising theology. Its central point is summed up in the following dictum: 'Is speaking about God a great thing? But greater still is to purify oneself for God'. Here, purification (katharsis) is not opposed to theology: rather, theology is that ascent to the peak of Mount Sinai which is impossible without purification.

What is required for practising theology is not so much intellectual effort, neither external erudition, nor wide reading, but first of all humility and modesty. According to Gregory, humility is not to be found in someone's external appearance, which may often be deceitful, and perhaps not even in how someone is related to other people, but in his attitude to God. The humble, in Gregory's judgment, is not he who speaks but little about himself, or who speaks in the presence of a few but rarely; but he who 'speaks about God with moderation, who knows what to say and what to pass over in silence'.

In other words, everyone can be a good Christian, but not everyone is able to investigate the depths of doctrine, where many things should be covered by an apophatic silence. Everyone can contemplate on matters of theology, but not everyone can be initiated into its mysteries. All Christians must purify themselves for God: the more a person is purified, the more discernible are the words of the Spirit in his mouth. True theology is born out of a silent and humble standing before God rather than out of speculations on theological matters.

We can see that this understanding is radically different from what we normally mean by 'theology'. One of the tragic consequences of the divorce between Christian theory and praxis, between faith and knowledge, is that nowadays knowledge about theological subjects does not necessarily presuppose faith. You can be a theologian and not belong to any church community; in principle, you do not need to believe in God to receive a theological degree. Theology is reduced to one of the subjects of human knowledge alongside with chemistry, mathematics or biology.

Another divorce which needs to be mentioned is that between theology and liturgy. For an Orthodox theologian, liturgical texts are not simply the works of outstanding theologians and poets, but also the fruits of the prayerful experience of those who have attained sanctity and theosis. The theological authority of liturgical texts is, in my opinion, higher than that of the works of the Fathers of the Church, for not everything in the works of the latter is of equal theological value and not everything has been accepted by the fullness of the Church. Liturgical texts, on the contrary, have been accepted by the whole Church as a 'rule of faith' (kanon pisteos), for they have been read and sung everywhere in Orthodox churches over many centuries. Throughout this time, any erroneous ideas foreign to Orthodoxy that might have crept in either through misunderstanding or oversight were eliminated by church Tradition itself, leaving only pure and authoritative doctrine clothed by the poetic forms of the Church's hymns.

Several years ago I came across a short article in a journal of the Coptic Church where it stated that this Church had decided to remove prayers for those detained in hell from its service books, since these prayers 'contradict Orthodox teaching.' Puzzled by this article, I decided to ask a representative of the Coptic Church about the reasons for this move. When such opportunity occurred, I raised this question before one Coptic metropolitan, who replied that the decision was made by his Synod because, according to their official doctrine, no prayers can help those in hell. I told the metropolitan that in the liturgical practice of the Russian Orthodox Church and other local Orthodox Churches there are prayers for those detained in hell, and that we believe in their saving power. This surprised the metropolitan, and he promised to study this question in more detail.

During this conversation with the metropolitan I expressed my thoughts on how one could go very far and even lose important doctrinal teachings in the pursuit of correcting liturgical texts. Orthodox liturgical texts are important because of their ability to give exact criteria of theological truth, and one must always confirm theology using liturgical texts as a guideline, and not the other way round. The lex credendi grows out of the lex orandi, and dogmas are considered divinely revealed because they are born in the life of prayer and revealed to the Church through its divine services. Thus, if there are divergences in the understanding of a dogma between a certain theological authority and liturgical texts, I would be inclined to give preference to the latter. And if a textbook of dogmatic theology contains views different from those found in liturgical texts, it is the textbook, not the liturgical texts, that need correction.

Even more inadmissible, from my point of view, is the correction of liturgical texts in line with contemporary norms. Relatively recently the Roman Catholic Church decided to remove the so-called 'antisemitic' texts from the service of Holy Friday. Several members of the Orthodox Church have begun to propagate the idea of revising Orthodox services in order to bring them closer to contemporary standards of political correctness. For example, the late Archpriest Serge Hackel from England, an active participant in the Jewish-Christian dialogue, proposed the removal of all texts from the Holy Week services that speak of the guilt of the Jews in the death of Christ (cf. his article 'How Western Theology after Auschwitz Corresponds to the Consciousness and Services of the Russian Orthodox Church,' in Theology after Auschwitz and its Relation to Theology after the Gulag: Consequences and Conclusions, Saint-Petersburg, 1999, in Russian). He also maintains that only a 'superficial and selective' reading of the New Testament brings the reader to the conclusion that the Jews crucified Christ. In reality, he argues, it was Pontius Pilate and the Roman administration who are chiefly responsible for Jesus' condemnation and crucifixion.

This is just one of innumerable examples of how a distortion of the lex credendi inevitably leads to 'corrections' in the lex orandi, and vice versa. This is not only a question of revising liturgical tradition, but also a re-examination of Christian history and doctrine. The main theme of all four Gospels is the conflict between Christ and the Jews, who in the end demanded the death penalty for Jesus. There was no conflict between Christ and the Roman administration, the latter being involved only because the Jews did not have the right to carry out a death penalty. It seems that all of this is so obvious that it does not need any explanation. This is exactly how the ancient Church understood the Gospel story, and this is the understanding that is reflected in liturgical texts. However, contemporary rules of 'political correctness' demand another interpretation in order to bring not only the Church's services, but also the Christian faith itself in line with modern trends.

The Orthodox Tradition possesses a sufficient number of 'defence mechanisms' that prevent foreign elements from penetrating into its liturgical practice. I have in mind those mechanisms that were set in motion when erroneous or heretical opinions were introduced into the liturgical texts under the pretext of revision. One may recall how Nestorianism began with the suggestion to replace the widely-used term Theotokos (Mother of God) with Christotokos (Mother of Christ), the latter was seen as more appropriate by Nestorius. When this suggestion was made, one of the defence mechanisms was activated: the Orthodox people were indignant and protested. Later, another mechanism was put into operation when theologians met to discuss the problem. Finally, an Ecumenical Council was convened. Thus, it turned out that a dangerous Christological heresy, lurking under the guise of a seemingly harmless liturgical introduction, was later condemned by a Council.

To rediscover the link between theology, liturgy and praxis, between lex orandi, lex credendi and lex Vivendi would be one of the urgent tasks of theological education in the 21st century. The whole notion of a 'theology' as exclusively bookish knowledge must be put into question. The whole idea of a 'theological faculty' as one of many other faculties of a secular university needs to be re-examined. The notions of 'non-confessional', 'unbiased', 'objective' or 'inclusive' theology as opposed to 'confessional' or 'exclusive' must be reconsidered.

[Andreas Moran]

I had high hopes for this thread. I thought it would be different. I thought it would address the urgent pastoral difficulties so many of us face. But it's getting like some other threads: wordy, more or less learned, more or less obscure, and not very relevant to real pastoral questions.

[Owen Jones]

Of course, it is also quite possible to pick up impurities by being in close contact with others in the Church! (Which means that perhaps I would be saving others by not talking to them too much).

[Michael Stickles]

After reading through this thread, especially Fr Dcn Matthew's and Fr Raphael's posts, I'm wishing we had a different word for the topic under discussion. Because of the nature of most "-ologies" as seen in the West, the term "theology" will naturally lead one to think of it through an academic and/or theoretical filter. "Theography" comes to mind ("writing" God onto hearts/souls; like iconography but with people as the medium), though maybe that term would have its own problems.

It sounds like art would have been a better category for theology than science (thinking of the medieval description of Theology as "The Queen of the Sciences"), since arts were taught primarily by apprenticeship, perfected by experience, and intended to be shared/performed (i.e., the "audience" was always in mind). Unfortunately, the rise of "modern art" has gotten away from that and might make the metaphor less effective.

In Christ,
Michael

[Anna Stickles]

According to St Gregory Nazianzen, not everyone can be a theologian, but only the one who purifies himself for God. Not all can participate in theological discussions, but only those who are able to do it properly....It is not for all men, but only for those who have been tested and have found a sound footing in study, and, more importantly, have undergone, or at the very least are undergoing, purification of body and soul.

The whole notion of a 'theology' as exclusively bookish knowledge must be put into question. The whole idea of a 'theological faculty' as one of many other faculties of a secular university needs to be re-examined.


Connecting what is said here with what Fr Rapael has said about the importance of parish life
Within the Church such can be avoided because we all together are struggling to operate according to a higher divine standard. ..."As long as each member of the community acts with a degree of humble sensitivity to whomever is encountered then the whole is drawn together. This works without anyone having to lord it over others and thus overcomes the problem of having our obedience dependent on others.

brings me back around to my experience in Protestant small group Bible studies. Here knowledge of God and salvation was not approached as an academic exercise, or in an academic setting, but rather within the context of practically living out what we read. Each brought to the discussion their own experience and previous study -the more mature in faith guiding but not monopolizing the discussion -rather setting an example for how to study and learn from Scripture. None of the leaders ever taught with the attitude that they themselves knew the truth, rather they were struggling alongside everyone else to come to grips with the infinite depths contained therein. The small groups were composed of people committed to gathering weekly, not just to study together, but to pray for one another and serve one another -to be an extended family. Looking back over our years as Christains, both Michael and I would say that 95% or more of whatever progress we may have made toward salvation is due to our involvement in these small groups. Each time we moved, this type of community is what we sought out. Striving to know God, the striving toward theology, was seen, not as the exclusive venue of academicians or priests but rather the responsiblity of every Christian.

[Matthew Panchisin]

Dear Owen,


Of course, it is also quite possible to pick up impurities by being in close contact with others in the Church! (Which means that perhaps I would be saving others by not talking to them too much).

Among several other things I have actually tried that, I'm doing it now in parish life, our Bishop and the Priestmonks like the notion. They think it's a good idea and would like to join me but they can't. Sofar one ends up talking on the internet, I'll keep you posted and let you know how things go.

In Christ,

Matthew Panchisin

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

The different warnings given here are all well worth considering I think.

I think though that we have to be very careful since theology from the beginning has related to that knowledge of God found within the Church. This since the beginning has been a fundamental marker of the Church. In St Paul for example we see that it has been given to the Church to have knowledge of God and His word through Christ. To the early Christians it was this knowledge which separated the Church from the ignorance of the pagans. Theology is thus knowledge of God.

This however alerts us to the fact that this knowledge is always based on experience. But this is exactly (at least as I take it) what everyone on this thread has been trying to say from Fr Dn Matthew's post onwards. This is after all what prevents our theology from being merely academic and makes it an expression of a living faith.

How we express this living faith though in words is a more delicate topic. Intellectualism as a kind of expression removed from the life of the Church in the Spirit is something we truly should struggle against. On the other hand though many (or most) of the Holy Fathers were highly intellectually trained. This shows through in their writings not just in the challenge which they present for us to read. It also shows through their writings in the sense that for Orthodoxy, intellectual discipline is a necessary part of that ascetic effort to express the truth of the Church. This is along the same lines as an iconographer who follows a certain kind of discipline so that what is expressed is consistent with the life of the Church. In this discipline there is also obedience to the Church's way of thinking. Without this discipline the Church's message inevitably is lost in something far more individual and selfish.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Anna Stickles]

Theology is thus knowledge of God....

It also shows through their writings in the sense that for Orthodoxy, intellectual discipline is a necessary part of that ascetic effort to express the truth of the Church. This is along the same lines as an iconographer who follows a certain kind of discipline so that what is expressed is consistent with the life of the Church. In this discipline there is also obedience to the Church's way of thinking. Without this discipline the Church's message inevitably is lost in something far more individual and selfish.

I guess somewhat like Andreas, I want to bring this thread down to earth a little. It is one thing to discuss theology as knowledge of God and the discipline needed to take that knowledge when gained and express it properly. But maybe this is a bit above where most in the Church are at. It is another thing to discuss that discipline which brings us to the knowledge, the experience, of God in the first place.

I think, I hope, we all realize that knowledge about God is a pre-requisite to knowledge of God, and study of the virtues via specific teaching and examples is necessary for any practice of them, especially in today's society where there is so little living example. It is easy to look at the culture around us and see that we don't fornicate, we don't party, we aren't hording money or spending lavishly and think that this means we have attained some virtue...until we start reading the New Testament, lives of the saints and the Philokalia....

Spiritual experience without the proper rational context is exactly what led to many of the gnostic heresies. Experience is like wax, it takes the shape of whatever mold one pours it in, and so what context does the Church offer for making proper molds? What is the mind of the Church toward the context for learning about God?

In the past, theology, I think, was seen as specifically for priests and monks. Lay people just attended services and did acts of charity. Not only did they not see it as their responsiblity to study the Scriptures or the Fathers but were actively discouraged from doing so because it was dangerous. But maybe this lack of intellectual discipline is why atheism was able to so thoroughly take over in Russia? The laity had not the training to defend themselves against the intellectual persuasiveness of those ideas? Maybe Protestants are able to find so many converts in Orthodox countries because they are introducing the Orthodox laity to the Scriptures in places where Church culture has failed to meet the intellectual needs of a universally educated society?


So the core of theology itself is the relation of the human person to God in union with him; and the core of theology as handed on and received is the relation of offerer and recipient.


In view of the fact that there are so few true theologians that can speak out of their own experience of being in union with God, what guidlines should we take in a general parish setting toward sharing what we know about God? Is only the priest capable of such teaching? Are the dangers of heresy so overwhelming that no one should teach unless they have some true experience of God, and no one should try to learn about God unless under the direction of someone like this? -this would leave the vast majority of the Church in a dangerous ignorance.

By what means do we encourage a responsible engagement with Scriptures and other Orthodox writings? This summer our parish priest offered an eight week Bible study. In a parish which has an average Sunday morning attendence of slightly over 100, 2 other people besides Mike and I attended. In our Baptist congregation which is about twice the size of the parish there are approximately 8 small groups that meet on a weekly basis containing 5-20 people each. This in addition to the Sunday School classes. At least half the congregation is getting regular engagement with Scriptures, not just in personal devotional time, but in a setting that allows for correction of ideas. In a setting that encourages and even demands humility of mind and good listening skills if one is to take home any 'food'. Young Christians quickly learn by osmosis basic principles of inductive Bible study. They also learn by experience the right way to share with others, being neither overly foward about their opinions, nor overly backward about them. A good leader will discourage the kind of intellectual speculation that is so often spoken agianst here -everyone soon learns how counterproductive to true learning this really is. Developing good group dynamics is an art, but one that is nearly universally learned in the evangelical PC churches that are growing.

But the question is, in these groups, the leader is generally not a theologian in the sense that we are using it here. Is there a place for this in the OC?

The analogy that comes to mind in my experience of Orthodoxy is a family where the kids are constantly running to Dad. May I do this? Please help me with my homework. etc. But where is the balance? In our family often Ken helps the boys with their math. Leysha will get the Daryel his breakfast and Jem wants to read Daryel his Bible story at night. My kids have relationships of responsibility with each other, it is not all centered simply on Michael and I. And I don[t expect the kids to fulfill those responsiblities perfectly to the degree that Mike and I would be able to do them.

[Rick H.]

I really like the comparison Anna has been providing in her last few posts using her family as an example. Especially in this last post which moves me to consider how I have raised my two daughters. I have kept them close, watched out for them, and have shown love to them. They have felt my love towards them since day one when I carried them in the front door of my home. I have intentionally tried to build character in them and been very active in their upbringing, their training. Through this over the past 21 years or so, I have been accused of being too overprotective; a few folks have accused me of a kind of control freakery with their upbringing which has robbed them of their freedom and to be able to think for themselves. But, what a joke! How ignorant!. My goal was to have them turn out to be strong, smart women who are aware and can think for themselves and not be swept away by the world, or have the world mold and shape them. For their entire lives I was constantly planting seeds in their minds and taking advantage of every opportunity to teach them as situations presented themselves. Admittedly my actions were more covert than overt, but I still feel to this day that people need to see things for themselves, need to process and learn and have aha moments, so to speak, in order to really take it in and make it their own. During one period about 4 years ago I noticed that one of my daughters was coming to me to ask my opinion about everything in order to get my approval and my permission before she did anything. This started to get out of hand and was becoming counterproductive (I say this humanly speaking and with the above goals in mind). Over time a correction was made. I am still very close with my two daughters and am still actively engaged with them as their father even though they are adults now. I hope I always will be. I am so proud of both of them. I am smiling now thinking about the women they have turned into as I write this. They are beautiful, strong, intelligent women with very good relational skills who function very well in their educational settings and vocations and social lives. They still come to me from time to time for advice and counsel (which I love), but overall they are out there in the world encountering what comes and making good decisions and as far as I'm concerned represent happy, healthy, functional individuals.

How does this relate to pastoral theology that is down to earth where the rubber meets the road? I think this example is spot on as it relates to the question(s), "What are we trying to do with our pastoral care efforts in the local parish? .To Whom do we want the kids constantly running to and take refuge in? . . . To Whom do we want the kids to have a personal relationship with in the End? " These questions aren't really crafted very well here, but I think the answers to these really do determine whether we ultimately have healthy, functional individuals in the churches and in turn whether we have healthy, functional families in the churches as opposed to dysfunctional individuals/families.

Otherwise, and not on an unrelated note, I wonder if there will be any answers to Anna's question above:




But the question is, in these groups, the leader is generally not a theologian in the sense that we are using it here. Is there a place for this in the OC?



You have made me miss the small groups from the past Anna. Andreas's question about isolation is more of non-issue when one is plugged into a good small group as you have described above. Yes, I think there are some lessons that Orthodoxy today can learn from Evangelicalism. Being overly defensive is found in all forms of intorverted and self-seeking (self-ish) fundementalism . . . but, yes Anna, as you ask above "is there a place for this?"

[Matthew Panchisin]

In the past, theology, I think, was seen as specifically for priests and monks. Lay people just attended services and did acts of charity. Not only did they not see it as their responsibility to study the Scriptures or the Fathers but were actively discouraged from doing so because it was dangerous. But maybe this lack of intellectual discipline is why atheism was able to so thoroughly take over in Russia? The laity had not the training to defend themselves against the intellectual persuasiveness of those ideas? Maybe Protestants are able to find so many converts in Orthodox countries because they are introducing the Orthodox laity to the Scriptures in places where Church culture has failed to meet the intellectual needs of a universally educated society?

Dear Anna,

Firstly, I don't think that this is accurate or agreeable with me here, it can't be. Perhaps I'm way wrong on this though and I look foward to the thoughts of others. I'd like to share a few thoughts.

I think the reason why atheism in Russia came around had nothing to do with not being trained to defend themselves against the intellectual persuasiveness of those ideas. Do keep in mind that people and entire families had been threatened, brutalized and even killed if they refused the new system with a better life, with more money, and so forth that was being created. Not all agreed with communism as it was being forced on people. Many refused, killed for different reasons and many are seen as martyrs. The Church honors them, the holy martyrs rightly, that is theology in action, and is not seen as specifically for priests and monks. I would say that the laity that died for Christ had been "trained' if you will. The reason that the Protestants are able to find so many converts in Orthodox countries is through the great distortions that they present of the scriptures as well money (charity) and other activities, in short better lives are presented. For many years the Godless state would not allow catechesis classes and so forth so the Protestants see an opportunity to do what they do. The MP is against the Protestant activities. Do keep in mind that the Orthodox Church in Russia is recovering so to speak. I would not agree with the idea that the Church culture has failed to meet the intellectual needs of a universally educated society, but rather that the intellectual needs of a universally educated society has created a different society outside the Church that attempts to go inside the Church. I think that His Grace Bishop Hilarion comments are along those lines.

The common denomination with atheism, Protestant activities that protest against the Orthodox Church and a universally educated society is often prideful or disobedience, the same that hearkens backwards for some in the garden. Both are common struggles for Orthodox Christians if engaged against. I think that pastoral theology as often heard by us in the Church is good for us.

We read in Ephesians, "in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient."

So that disobedience thing is not good and intellectualism is how that can come about. Our minds can come up with all kinds of ideas that simply do not sync with the teachings of the Church.

In Christ,

Matthew Panchisin

[Mary]

Spiritual experience without the proper rational context is exactly what led to many of the gnostic heresies. Experience is like wax, it takes the shape of whatever mold one pours it in, and so what context does the Church offer for making proper molds? What is the mind of the Church toward the context for learning about God?


The context - the life of the Church - the fasts, the feasts, the scripture readings, the prayers and all the services. My priest is not supposed to mold me. Neither am I supposed to mold my children. Only God knows what shape each of us should be, only He can mold us. But He can't shape us, till we begin to obey and start living the life of the Church.


But the question is, in these groups, the leader is generally not a theologian in the sense that we are using it here. Is there a place for this in the OC?

Yes, and No. Small groups, is only a method of putting into practice what we learn from scripture, etc. It is a tool. It is not fool proof. It is not perfect. Without the Church, it can go out of balance and cause more problem than good. It is also, not for everyone.

They started some kind of adult classes at our parish recently. I used to live for these. But I couldn't go to any of these classes. Is it because I've learned all there is to learn? Far from it. It's just that, I learn best in a one-on-one situation. Small groups kill me. It's too generalized for me. My problems are deep, and I cannot learn unless I can talk about every single detail without restraint. Such things cannot be discussed in public. And I hate generalizing and hiding behind clean words in order to find a cure for myself. I like the freedom to say things as they are.

So, I have found unfathomable healing in confession. I do not receive a whole lot of counselling and stuff from my priest himself. But, I can feel the healing effect of confession... swift, and powerful and deep. A few confessions have done more for me, than all the small groups I"ve been to in my entire life. And I've been to many.

mary

[Matthew Panchisin]

Dear Mary,

I see you have simply mentioned Pastoral Care par excellence, "the healing effect of confession... swift, and powerful and deep." The Priest prays, theology in action, relational with the keys for sure.

There are many "beautiful woman" in the bible, in the catechumen places, in the Church and outside the Church as well. How often do we here these words again and again during Vigil services in the Church.

And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.

In Christ,

Matthew Panchisin

[Anna Stickles]

Andreas's question about isolation is more of non-issue when one is plugged into a good small group as you have described above.


Yes, with more converts and the breakdown of the tight-knit ethnic community, one of the pastoral concerns of the Church is to find ways to keep a sense of Christian community. Individuals in isolation are individuals that are vulnerable. If a time of persecution came in this country, who is more likely to survive- isolated individuals or close knit communities? Small groups keep us from becoming simply Sunday morning Christians who live the rest of the time in a worldly way, and small groups themselves provide a support system for helping to deal with the constant bombardment of non-Christian ideals that we live with.

Mary,
Thanks, I think you bring up some really important points. This really helps me focus my thoughts which have rather been circling without landing.

Certainly adult classes should not become a time where people are looking for healing, nor sharing their personal problems and looking for council. And it is true that often in the PC these small groups basically had many functions that are more properly taken care of elsewhere in the Orthodox Church. I love the sacramental aspect of the Church --it is Truth and Grace and Life! and I can relate to what you say about confession being healing. And I have found spiritual council very healing too.

I guess I have moved the discussion from pastoral theology to adult education. --But a specifically Christain education, not religated to seminaries, nor strictly bookish, but rather one that is relational and wholly contained within and formed by the life of the Church as that life is lived and experienced within the local parish.

There is the tempation to think that Suday School is for children, or that it is only the new Christian that needs instruction and education, but this is far from the truth. Our minds and our understanding mature over time and if we don't keep reading and reconnecting with Scripture and other spiritual reading, then we can end up having adults with an infantile undertanding of the faith. We need to be constantly challenged to go deeper. As we are purified and mature as Christians we can understand more from Scripture but if we do not keep up a life-long study we basically end up feeding baby food to an adult mind. I am sure we each know adults whose understanding of Scripture does not go past the Bible stories they learned in Sunday School.

When I said in post #16 that this forum offered a unique opportunity not available in the parish, it is this type of Christain education I was seeing as lacking. But in reflecting on my participation in various small groups, I can see that Fr Raphael is right when he warns of the dangers of the internet -- there is not the same checks in this forum(as wonderful a job as our moderators try to do) as in a small group setting.

If I were to try to sum up the thoughts I have been circling around I would say--
1) personal time reading spiritual literature is a foundation for growth.
2) talking with others --good spiritual discussions-- can help us refine our knowledge, keeping us from getting too caught up in simply our own understanding of our reading and challenging us to think along lines we would not have otherwise done. It also teaches humility, listening skills and hermenutic skills.
3) spiritual discussion is best participated in within the life of the parish and within that relational context of caring for one another in real terms rather then over the internet. In this context practice and knowledge can be inegrated much better, and a true Christian community can grow. (as opposed to simply friendships based on worldly interests, or virtual relationships with no accountablity)
4) the internet provides something valuable in view of the current period of 'growing pains' in the OC.

Here is a quote from St Theophan the Recluse to challenge us.



"A Christain intellectual development occurs when all the truths of the Faith are impressed so deeply into the intellect that the intellect's whole existence is made up of these truths alone. When it beings to reason over something, it reasons according to what it knows of the Christian truths, and would never make the slightest move without them. The Apostle calls this keeping the image of a sound mind. II Tim. 1:7

Exercises or work related to this are: reading and hearing the Word of God, patristic literature, lives of the Holy Fathers; mutual discourse; and asking questions of those more experienced.
It is good to read or listen, better to have a mutual discourse, and even better to ask questions of those more experienced. Path of Salvation, pg 247


I hope I haven't gotten this thread too far off it's original topic.

[Paul Cowan]

I guess I have moved the discussion from pastoral theology to adult education. --But a specifically Christain education, not religated to seminaries, nor strictly bookish, but rather one that is relational and wholly contained within and formed by the life of the Church as that life is lived and experienced within the local parish.

There is the tempation to think that Suday School is for children, or that it is only the new Christian that needs instruction and education, but this is far from the truth. Our minds and our understanding mature over time and if we don't keep reading and reconnecting with Scripture and other spiritual reading, then we can end up having adults with an infantile undertanding of the faith. We need to be constantly challenged to go deeper. As we are purified and mature as Christians we can understand more from Scripture but if we do not keep up a life-long study we basically end up feeding baby food to an adult mind. I am sure we each know adults whose understanding of Scripture does not go past the Bible stories they learned in Sunday School.

I think this is the dicotomy of this thread. How do we have a pastoral nature of theology (someone who has been there and "knows" and can teach us) versus who is qualified to teach us in a parish setting? Where do we look to in the parish if not the clergy (who have been taught by theologians in seminary) and trust what is being taught. I think it easier for a parent to teach a youth Sunday school class than to try to teach an adult one. In my parish, our priest teaches the catachumens while our associate priest teaches the adults. We have parents including our priest's wife and our deacon who teach the youth.

So, my question between adult education classes and adult theology being taught, is who is capable? As the parish grows, we have more and more people being ordained to be readers and hopefully soon subdeacons. One of our readers is about to go to seminary so we will lose his knowledge for a few years.

All have good intentions in teaching as there are on this site, but in the end, God will call us to account on what we/I know. It is ultimately OUR/MY responsibility to seek Him out; to learn more. Is this not what we teach about those who do not know Christ? Regardless of what environs they were raised, everyone on the planet will have the opportunity at some point in their lives to hear of Him and to seek Him out.

My priest is fond of saying "Bubba in the basement ain't gonna get himself saved." We are a community of believers. Not individuals. In community I am saved; alone, I perish.


1 Corinthians 3:1 And I, brethren, could not speak to you as to spiritual people but as to carnal, as to babes in Christ. 2 I fed you with milk and not with solid food; for until now you were not able to receive it, and even now you are still not able; 3 for you are still carnal. For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men? 4 For when one says, “I am of Paul,” and another, “I am of Apollos,” are you not carnal? 5 Who then is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers through whom you believed, as the Lord gave to each one? 6 I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase. 7 So then neither he who plants is anything, nor he who waters, but God who gives the increase. 8 Now he who plants and he who waters are one, and each one will receive his own reward according to his own labor. 9 For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, you are God’s building. 10 According to the grace of God which was given to me, as a wise master builder I have laid the foundation, and another builds on it. But let each one take heed how he builds on it. 11 For no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.

So what is he saying here? He is admonishing them for not having grown in the faith. Once it is planted though, who is responsible for growth? Each of us, but as the eunich said to Phillip, "How can I understand unless someone teaches me?" We all pass the buck at some time in our lives. The buck stops with me! I am responsible for seeking out the Truth even if that means I GO and find the theologians myself to be instructed as the monks do.

Paul

[Father David Moser]

My priest is not supposed to mold me. Neither am I supposed to mold my children. Only God knows what shape each of us should be, only He can mold us. But He can't shape us, till we begin to obey and start living the life of the Church.

I'm probably misunderstanding you here (as evidenced by some of your latter comments) however, let me point out that in fact the priest is supposed to "mold" and shape the members of his flock into the image of Christ using the tools and forms given to us in the life of the Church. The priest applies this one and then that as needed to guide us into acquiring the shape of Christ. So also with parents and children. This is a divinely given responsibility for pastors and parents and if we just ignore it with the thought that God will take care of it, then we will have much to answer for on the day of judgement.



Yes, and No. Small groups, is only a method of putting into practice what we learn from scripture, etc.

I had been meaning to comment on this idea of "small groups" or "Bible Study" groups and this seems like as good an opportunity as any. The authority to teach is part of grace or charism of the bishop. No one may teach in the Church (not even the parish priest) without the blessing of the ruling bishop - it is ultimately his responsibility before God. Bible study groups have the benefit of providing a personal link to others in a parish where size or ethnic content don't allow that to form naturally. However, the priest (who is the one in the parish designated by the bishop to teach) should be the one to either lead the study or to appoint the person who will lead. To go off on our own and set up "study groups" outside the discipline and structure of the Church opens the door to pride, heresy and chaos within the Church.

St Ignatii Brianhaninov in his instructions to novice monks (The Arena) makes the point in the very first sentence of the very first paragraph of the very first page that it is necessary to read the holy Gospel with all possible care and attention. The purpose of this reading of the Gospel is "that it may always be present in his memory, and at every moral step he takes, for every act, for every thought, he may always have ready in hijs memory the teaching of the Gospel. ... From these words of the Lord (John 14:21) it is evident that the commandments of the Gospel must be so studied that they become the possession, the property of the mind; only then is the exact, constant fulfillment of them possible..." But then he also elaborates somewhat later when one reads the Gospel it is "indispensible" to ready also the Orthodox commentary on the Gospel - that is the commentary of Blessed Theophylact of Bulgaria - in order to gain the "right understanding of the Gosepl and consequently to the most exact practice of it." (Chapter 9). He goes on to say that "the rules of the Church require (emphasis mine) that Scripture should be understood as the holy Fathers explain it, and not at all arbitrarily. By being guided in our understanding of the gospel by the explanation of the holy Father (ie. Theophylact), by the explanation received and used by the Church, we keep the tradition of the holy Church."

Note here that the whole reason for this "Bible study" is not to gain knowledge about the Bible or to share personal impressions or interpretations (for we do not rely upon our own thoughts, but draw our meaning from the Fathers - in this case specifically the commentary of St Theophylact), but rather that the Gospel may be so embedded in the mind that it becomes a "natural" guide for how we live. This comes back to the point of this thread that theology is not an academic study but a way of life - it is not a body of knowledge about God, but rather the description of our experience of the One True God.

As an Orthodox Christian, both as a layman and later as a clergyman, I have participated in such Bible studies. While I was able, as a participate, to guide the discussion or to introduce Orthodox themes, there was always the presumption that we are all equals and that every person's ideas are as valid as any one else's. This is not Orthodoxy, this is chaos. (In fact it was just this lack of any recognition of any teaching authority in protestantism that drove me to Orthodoxy while an undergraduate in Biblical Literature at university).

We do not need to learn about the Bible or theology, rather we need to read it so frequently and constantly under the teaching and direction of those whom the Church gives us as instructors that it becomes embedded in our minds and hearts and becomes an inseparable, even "unthinking" part of our life.

Fr David Moser

[Owen Jones]

I attend a "Bible Study" at my Church along with my wife. We do a chapter of Acts per week. The priest is young. This is his first assignment. He does not take a very intellectual approach. It is very down to earth, as they say. And he is humorous. And he combines the class with instruction on the liturgy. But there is a missing element -- a lack of pathos, which is the thing most missing from Orthodox preaching and teaching that I have found. I recognize this and do not expect this particular priest to be something he is not, and therefore if I leave the class feeling like I have not gotten what I came for, then who is at fault? The priest, or me? Perhaps I am not putting enough feeling into it. And so what if the world does not know how I feel deep inside? It does not mean that neither God nor the priest care. More likely it just means I am full of self-will and self-pity. Why should I expect this young priest to be St. Basil?


What I have found as a common thread in Patristic sermons and treatises, however, is that a strong element of pathos is always there, although it is of a type that we are mostly unfamiliar with, and so it is often missed perhaps, because it is presented typologically, and there was a well-founded assumption at the time that the hearers would relate on the level of deep feeling, even though these sermons were presented in the form of a very extended argument with considerable intellectual force. Whereas today there is a lack of deep feeling in general and so it may be necessary for the priest to be more direct and not assume anything. It is often said in our day that it becomes an act of courage to state the obvious.

Another way of looking at pathos is that it is identification. Are we moved deeply to identify with the characters, the stories, the events and relate our lives to them, especially on the level of suffering? Or are they just historical information? The thing about Patristic sermons is that they indict you in your sins and move you to a state of self-accusation, and then they lift you up. One must first descend in order to ascend. We descend with Christ in his unjust persecution, and we ascend with Him. Same with the prophets and the saints. I don't want to be accused of simply projecting my own lack of identification on everyone else. I am sure that many people in my congregation do experience deep feelings of identification in their liturgical experiences. But in general I think it is a serious problem in our faith and in many "Christian" churches. The healing that comes from theological truth is something that moves the heart to feelings of contrition, feelings of communion with others who are suffering so that we do not feel like we are the only ones suffering, deep feelings of being lifted up and gratitude to God and others for that. This can be an individual experience in the sense that it does not need to be somehow confirmed through some group experience or "fellowship" as it is commonly understood. So just adding discussion groups or more study groups or fellowship groups within the parish is not necessarily the answer if all that does is serve to perpetuate a sense of isolation -- e.g. the feeling that something is still missing in my life, even though I go to all these classes.

This problem of isolation is compounded by the influence of modern psychology, so that if someone is very involved in the Church, and dutifully attends services and so on, and still says "I have a lot of problems that require personal attention," the typical response would be that that person needs some psychotherapy perhaps, when in fact the problem may be simply that the liturgical experience has never broken through the hardness surrounding the heart, and that is what needs to be confronted. But priests fear being confrontational, even though it is often required, and certainly omnipresent in our theology. And to confront people with love is something that is a gift, it's not something you learn in a course of study. It is a gift of the Holy Spirit, so that Philip could confront Simon and warn him that his bitterness -- it's interesting that this term is used since it isn't immediately apparent from the context that bitterness would have anything to do with it -- was threatening his soul, and that in response Simon was immediately contrite. But Philip, as we are told, was filled with the Holy Spirit and was able to see deep into Simon's heart.

I figure that if I don't tear up from something in the liturgy on a regular basis, either tears of contrition or tears of gratitude or simply tears that result from being able to identify, then I am really in bad shape spiritually and I need to take a very hard look at myself. What kind of bitterness and hard-heartedness is there that must be immediately discarded? Where am I resisting God's voice? Why am I just hearing words, and not God's power? What is wrong with me, not in general but specifically, that needs to be changed. What fear is dominating my mind? What demonic influence is preventing me from receiving God's love? Frankly, taking that question to a priest might be an interesting experiment. I think we ought to challenge priests more with open questions, rather than assuming we know the precise nature of the problem, or the precise sin that needs to be confessed. How about just admitting that I am not on the top of my spiritual game and that I am feeling pretty bad about that. Be a good empiricist and go to the priest and say, nothing much is happening when I go to Church. What do you suggest I do differently? I am distracted by worldly cares in Church. What do I do to feel the liturgy, if you will? Some answers will be incredibly incompetent. But even then, a bad, stupid answer is something. It can be used as a kind of baseline in our development. Maybe the priest was just too quick with a pat answer, leaving us still with a feeling that we are getting nowhere. That's something we suffer. That is the basis of all true theological understanding -- how we suffer. And if we recognize that and feel it, then we have something we can take to the altar of God and leave it their for Him. That is our sacrifice. There is not necessarily any other answer.

The nature of the problem is not really complex, nor is the solution, and the solution need not be long and drawn out.

Back to my young priest. He does have a theme, and that is "do not judge." He always seems to include that message in every class. If I get that out of every class, I am indeed a winner, despite my wishing that his spiritual exegesis of the text were perhaps a little more in depth, a little more moving or uplifting or challenging. This is obviously the message that God wants to take home with me. With another member of the class, it is going to be something else that he needs to hear, if he is being attentive.

[Michael Stickles]

This post was originally a post by Anna (she was using my computer and forgot it was logged in as me). To avoid confusion, we've deleted it from here and moved it into another post (#38) under her name.

Michael

[Anna Stickles]

Fr Moser,

Thank you for your comments.



However, the priest (who is the one in the parish designated by the bishop to teach) should be the one to either lead the study or to appoint the person who will lead.


Even in the PC groups we were in not just anyone could lead, but rather those recognized as being mature and grounded in the faith and approved by the pastor. Even the small group leaders in college were under the authority of the campus minister. I don't think anyone would dispute the wisdom of this.



there was always the presumption that we are all equals and that every person's ideas are as valid as any one else's. This is not Orthodoxy, this is chaos.

We do not need to learn about the Bible or theology, rather we need to read it so frequently and constantly under the teaching and direction of those whom the Church gives us as instructors that it becomes embedded in our minds and hearts and becomes an inseparable, even "unthinking" part of our life.


I agree that as Orthodox Christians we need to have a different attitude then what is found in the PC. However, are you trying to say that small groups are not something compatible with Orthodox practice or just that they need to be approached in an Orthodox manner? If the former, then what venue would you suggest for instruction? It seems to me that lecture style teaching and sermons do not fill the void of teaching the average laymen how to engage with Scripture or patristic literature in a pastoral rather then an academic way. In fact a lecture style of teaching promotes an academic and intellectual attitude because simply by virtue of the medium of instruction one experiences theology as being merely about absorbing 'right' information.

A good small group leader, and I have experienced this, allows freedom to the indivduals to learn from and absorb the text each at their own level, while guiding and molding the approach to the text that those in the group take. The authority is exercised not in demanding, "You must believe this or interpret the text this way" but rather the leader guides the interaction of the students with the text, teaching a pastoral approach to Scripture by example. Questions are asked that help people focus on the practical application of the text to their lives, while wierd ideas - and these certainly do occur - are gently turned aside. Isn't this exactly what you, Fr Raphael, and Matthew are doing here on this forum? So we can see how this works, except that it is more immediate and more controllable in the parish setting.

One of the critical things that makes or breaks a small group, and you have mentioned this, is the attitude of those in it.
Note here that the whole reason for this "Bible study" is not to gain knowledge about the Bible or to share personal impressions or interpretations but rather that the Gospel may be so embedded in the mind that it becomes a "natural" guide for how we live.

Each needs to come with the attitude of a student wanting instruction for life. I think, though, that discouraging people from sharing their personal impressions or interpretations is not necessarily good. People are going to get 'personal impressions and interpretations' when they read...period, whether it be in a group or during personal devotions. It is the small group setting that gives the Church appointed teacher the chance to correct and mold those personal impressions and interpretations while others learn from this correction also. This can be done in a way that does not come across as, "You are wrong and foolish to think that." but rather is simply an encouragement to see the text more clearly in the context of the whole patristic testimony. As you said, in the studies you participated in you were able to introduce Orthodox themes.

However, we can't force people to accept our understanding. Trying to force on people doctrinal purity can be at odds with pastoral theology, don't you think? A young Christain simply may not have what it takes to see how we are seeing. There is much in my reading of the Fathers that I simply read over because I don't have the necessary context to understand it. The leader can't demand perfection then, but only guide toward perfection as each is able to grasp it. If the leader takes too strong a stance on demanding how a passage ought to be understood the members will simply become passive and the group will turn into nothing but a lecture by the leader. Again what the teacher ends up teaching is not so much the 'right interpretation' but along with this he teaches that theology is about having the right interpretation rather then teaching that theology is a relationship and a life.

[Mary]

I'm probably misunderstanding you here (as evidenced by some of your latter comments) however, let me point out that in fact the priest is supposed to "mold" and shape the members of his flock into the image of Christ using the tools and forms given to us in the life of the Church. The priest applies this one and then that as needed to guide us into acquiring the shape of Christ. So also with parents and children. This is a divinely given responsibility for pastors and parents and if we just ignore it with the thought that God will take care of it, then we will have much to answer for on the day of judgement.



Dear Fr David,

What I meant, when I said the priest isn't supposed to mold me, nor I my children, is sort of from a human perspective. For example, I can't train my son to be a monk or a priest. I do not know what he is going to become. I can only teach him the things I know. Still, he cannot do them, without God's help, and at some point in his life, he has to make them his own and rely on God himself. So, whatever he turns into, it is with God's empowering, not mine. The things I can give him are so limited and so weak. But I am responsible to give him whatever I can. However, God can enlighten him to a greater extent than I could ever be enlightened. He doesn't have to be stuck to my limitations.

And in the case of the priest's responsibility in molding his flock, this, is probably what others are talking about - the Something that is lacking in their parishes, for it is lacking in mine as well. As Owen said, my priest too, is afraid to confront. There's a deep, ravenous hunger within me, that is not being satisfied. Who is responsible to satisfy this hunger? Am I to go foraging on my own?

I asked my priest, what I should do... I felt like I wasn't doing enough, filled with restless energy, should I read something? should I memorize scripture? should I get involved in some charity? what is missing? Why such emptiness? He told me to do as I was already doing and to not stop coming to church. I told him I've never missed a day of church in my life, unless I was ill, even as a protestant. Coming to church isn't a hard thing for me to do. He shrugged his shoulders and said that others don't show up every Sunday. I gave up. What's it to me if others can't make it? He was giving me the advice that he should've been giving to them. I needed to know how to love God, so I could start doing it.

My friend told me, however much I love the person I love the least, that's how much I love God. With that simple statement, he gave me exactly what I needed - a starting point. He said that because he knows I need to work on my relationships. So does my priest, since he hears all my confessions. But he avoided my biggest issue, while my friend was willing to nail it for me. I could no longer ignore my relationship. It was suddenly, very deeply connected to my love for God. I simply had no other choice but to tackle all the resentments, the anger, the dislikes and whatever else, that was keeping me from loving that person. And I give up a lot. But my priest isn't the one who picks me up.

But, he is my priest. And he's giving me what he can, and I learn whatever I can, from him. I also tell him what I learn from my friend, from books and from here, although he doesn't ask, just so he knows where things are at in my life, because - I dunno, I just think there are some things he should know, especially if they're things that have to do with stuff I've confessed before, and things that he knows I struggle with. Maybe it'll help him know how to pray for me. And when I needed to make a drastic change in my life - wearing a scarf to church - I asked him if it was ok to do so, because I wasn't sure if it would rub the others the wrong way. But that's because it was related to others in the parish. Oh, I dunno. Lots of times, I feel like I'm just doing whatever I think is the right thing to do.

Please pray for me a sinner.

mary.

[Father David Moser]

... But my priest isn't the one who picks me up.

But, he is my priest. And he's giving me what he can, ... Maybe it'll help him know how to pray for me.

And you shoul also pray especially for your priest - he needs your prayers in order that he may have the strength and ability to guide you and his whole flock into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Fr David Moser

[Anna Stickles]

Dear Mary,

Rarely in my experience have I recieved any direct council on what to do.

Your said about your son,
and at some point in his life, he has to make them his own and rely on God himself.

I think we have to recognize that this is the point the priest is trying to get us to also. If he keeps telling us what to do then we learn to rely on him not God. Over and over, I have experienced the power of the intercessory role given to the priest. If God brought your friend along to give you what you needed then this is not because the priest was somehow inadequate in his advice or avoiding the issue, but rather that he had the patience and faith to pray for you and let God meet your need so that you would come to rely on God more. The priest has to be very careful not to inadvertantly take the place of God in our lives but rather help us to grow in faith and our own relationship with God.

Anyway, I've felt that restless energy myself and got basically the same answer - I think in Orthodoxy the idea is not to do more but to go deeper into what we are already doing. Doing everything with a prayerful and reverant, gentle and humble spirit.

[Mary]

Anyway, I've felt that restless energy myself and got basically the same answer - I think in Orthodoxy the idea is not to do more but to go deeper into what we are already doing.


YES!!! You've nailed it! I wanted to add, as time went by, I realized that my priest's advice to not stop what I was doing, and keep coming to church, was the only one I needed! Coupled with the advice my friend gave me... whenever I listen to messages or read a book or the scriptures, I look for the part that will help me uproot the resentments in my heart.

There's only a few lessons I need to learn. But I need to learn them well. I need to soak in them and absorb in them, till they become so much a part of me that I'm breathing them, tasting them, and feeling them regardless of what I'm doing all day long. This takes time, and it takes repetition. It does not require more study, it only requires more deligence, more practice, more patience, more perseverance.

The services are long, I haven't memorized the whole liturgy yet. But if I go to church with eagerness, to listen to the words with all my heart, the familiar ones, make my heart leap, the new ones are sometimes are too much to grasp, and I lose them quickly, and then, there are parts that suddenly jump out at me, and add themselves to my heart. Same service, but the degree to which it enters my heart, totally depends on my eagerness to absorb it. Also, it'll probably kill me if I absorbed the whole thing at one time... =)

So, I don't buy any more new books. I have a few, that have been powerful, and I re-read them... I don't need to know everything.

in Christ,
mary.

[Rick H.]

Mary and Anna, what a great exchange which I think speaks directly to the heart of the 'nature' of pastoral theology and care. Just beautiful. Thank you. What a good day.

[Anna Stickles]

Mary,



But I need to learn them well. I need to soak in them and absorb in them, till they become so much a part of me that I'm breathing them, tasting them, and feeling them regardless of what I'm doing all day long.


This is beautifully said. I've been trying to keep a spirit of prayer and or let Scripture or bits of the liturgy run through my mind while doing chores around the house, schooling the kids or whatever else I am doing, keeping in mind that God is watching over my behavior, thoughts and emotions at all times desring that they be Christlike.

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

My experience came first from monasticism but essentially I do not think the following should really be any different for parish life.

As in the monastic life we choose a parish according to where God directs us. One parish isn't necessarily any 'better' or 'worse': more importantly it is where God has sent us. It is the place He places us in so that we can best grow according to His will.

Once then having become members of a certain parish this is our spiritual family. This is where our faithfulness will be tested. Consequently it is where we will grow in the essential virtues of patience and love. To grow in these virtues we will have to learn what humility and obedience are.

Inevitably temptations will arise though since the evil one is often much more aware of what is essential than we are. But of course he hates this and wants to destroy it. Thus he will use our weaknesses to focus on weaknesses real & imagined of others. His object is simply to get us to lose focus, pull up our roots and then restlessly look elsewhere for greener pastures.

Of course though as the story found in the Desert Fathers recounts: as the restless monk was tying up his boots to go to a more suitable place he saw a demon also tying up his boots and getting ready to go. When the monk asked the demon what he was doing the demon replied that was getting ready to go to the next place also. Surely after the customary honey moon in the new place the demon would then have a spiritual 'welcoming committee' ready so that the same temptations would begin as before.

The parish then is the main place where we are called to grow in Christ. However as the Church is much wider than the parish we can also be like bees who gather nectar from many flowers so as to give life to the hive that they are called to build. This indeed if approached positively and with love answers many of the questions asked above. One place & one person cannot be everything: what we find elsewhere in the Church helps fill up and complement where we are at.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Owen Jones]

Great story, Father. We call that a "geographic cure."

[Matthew Panchisin]

Hello Fr Raphael and Owen?

I'm on the roof of the monastery, it's snowing here, the bishop and Priestmonks are throwing snowballs at me. Today is my Name Day, what do you think I should do?

In Christ,

Matthew Panchisin

[Father David Moser]

Hello Fr Raphael and Owen?

I'm on the roof of the monastery, it's snowing here, the bishop and Priestmonks are throwing snowballs at me. Today is my Name Day, what do you think I should do?

In Christ,

Matthew Panchisin

Get off the roof! Humble yourself and get LOWER than you are (there's better cover there anyway).

Fr David Moser

[Owen Jones]

I was going to say "Duck!" but Father beat me to it...

[Anna Stickles]

I really thought Paul brought up some good points in his post and wanted to get back to it.


How do we have a pastoral nature of theology (someone who has been there and "knows" and can teach us) versus who is qualified to teach us in a parish setting? Where do we look to in the parish if not the clergy (who have been taught by theologians in seminary) and trust what is being taught.

All have good intentions in teaching as there are on this site, but in the end, God will call us to account on what we/I know. It is ultimately OUR/MY responsibility to seek Him out; to learn more.
Here is a story that came to my mind on what our responsibility is and how we learn to distinguish true from false. A man wanted to be an art critique and during his course of study he took a class on Monet, his favorite artist. At the end of the class his friend came to him and gave him two pictures, one a real Monet and the other a very good imitation. The man got out his notes from class and went down the list of identifying characteristics that he had been given, carefully studying the two paintings to see if he could determine which was the real one. After a long time he gave up disappointed. Both paintings seemed to match the criteria in some ways and deviate in others. He put the pictures in a closet and continued with his studies.

He soon graduated and got a job at a museum. In the course of many years he had the chance to study and admire many of Monet's paintings, both those that belonged to the museum and others it got on loan. One day rummaging through his closet he came across the forgotten paintings. Taking them out and looking at them he immediately bent over one of them kissing it and exclaiming, "What beauty!, What power! What exquisite subtlety of color! And this other, how it lacks any life or depth." He immediately framed Monet's painting and threw the imitation in the trash.

The buck stops with me! I am responsible for seeking out the Truth even if that means I GO and find the theologians myself to be instructed as the monks do. .
Paul has brought up some excellent points, but I am wondering how this fits in with what Fr Raphael has said.
"As in the monastic life we choose a parish according to where God directs us. One parish isn't necessarily any 'better' or 'worse': more importantly it is where God has sent us. It is the place He places us in so that we can best grow according to His will."

Paul quoted Cor
I fed you with milk and not with solid food; for until now you were not able to receive it, and even now you are still not able; 3 for you are still carnal. And I have to wonder, if we are still carnal what good is finding the theologian going to do us, and if we are not carnal, are we not ourselves growing toward true theology? Here is how I see it. If I went and found a true theologian whose words were nearly pure gold, then as soon as what he said entered my ears the gold would get covered with dirt and mixed with the gravel and fools gold already in my mind. If however, I were already pure then no matter what person I was listening to, I would be able to separate the real gold from the fools gold in what they were saying and the only thing that would get past my ears and into my mind would be the gold. "To the pure all things are pure."



And so real obedience is not a yielding to some passive lack of interaction with truth and life: it is precisely the full engagement of the whole person, whole-heartedly, with Christ the good and true shepherd—as shepherd, who will lead, change, transform and transfigure.

What then transforms us? Is it simply obedience to a perfect theologian, and if our priest is not perfect then we are out of luck? or is it obedience to Christ in His Church? That means obedience to our priest, spiritual father, the rubrics of the the Church at large and ultimately to each other. "Submit to one another out of reverance for Christ."


What this means is that there is no such thing as theology without receipt, and this is part of what makes theology inherently pastoral.

Maybe we can say that it is God who chooses who we receive from, by virtue of where He has placed us, but it is our job to make sure that we do indeed recieve what He is giving us in all circumstances and from each person He brings to us.

[M.C. Steenberg]

I would like to take Anna's recent comment, on working to 'what He is giving us in all circumstances and from each person He brings to us', and reflect on a connected aspect, which is receiving what the Church fathers give us.

If all authentic theology is pastoral—that is, the ‘handing on’ of the experience of God in a manner that shepherds and guides the faithful into the fruits of that same experience—and the right response to theology is a living obedience that crucifies the will into a newness of open relation with God through that experience, then this must inform the way we approach the fathers of the Church and the theology they articulate.

The fathers, as theologians, speak the words of experience. Their writings are fundamentally the articulation, or ‘making verbal’, of experience. These writings are enshrined in the heritage of the Church because they encapsulate that pastoral dimension: the words of their experience are confirmed as bearing the power to shepherd others into experience. It is not chiefly their doctrinal accuracy that is lauded in the veneration of their works (though this is important; inaccurate doctrine can never be truly pastoral, as it always shepherds wrongly); rather, it is their pastoral strength. These are words that can transform lives, by leading lives into the true experience of the living God.

The work of reading the fathers, then, is one that can only bear its fullest fruit when approached in this pastoral perspective. Our critical understanding of what a father said, why, in what context, etc.—all these are important, useful, beneficial (and the fathers themselves were often masters of this critical approach, to one another’s writings as to others’); but what is paramount is seeing how the words of a father, the bearing and sharing of his experience of God, refracted through the living shepherd of the Church as a whole, can transform me, as reader, into a fuller and truer experience of the holy Trinity.

Let me take an example, from a saint for whom I have a particular devotion: Irenaeus of Lyons. In his fourth book of the On the refutation and overthrow of knowledge falsely so-called, he writes:

"If, however, any one say, What then? Could not God have exhibited man as perfect from beginning? let him know that, inasmuch as God is indeed always the same and unbegotten as respects Himself, all things are possible to Him. But created things must be inferior to Him who created them, from the very fact of their later origin; for it was not possible for things recently created to have been uncreated. But inasmuch as they are not uncreated, for this very reason do they come short of the perfect. Because, as these things are of later date, so are they infantile; so are they unaccustomed to, and unexercised in, perfect discipline. For as it certainly is in the power of a mother to give strong food to her infant, [but she does not do so], as the child is not yet able to receive more substantial nourishment; so also it was possible for God Himself to have made man perfect from the first, but man could not receive this [perfection], being as yet an infant. And for this cause our Lord in these last times, when He had summed up all things into Himself, came to us, not as He might have come, but as we were capable of beholding Him. He might easily have come to us in His immortal glory, but in that case we could never have endured the greatness of the glory; and therefore it was that He, who was the perfect bread of the Father, offered Himself to us as milk, [because we were] as infants. He did this when He appeared as a man, that we, being nourished, as it were, from the breast of His flesh, and having, by such a course of milk nourishment, become accustomed to eat and drink the Word of God, may be able also to contain in ourselves the Bread of immortality, which is the Spirit of the Father." (St Irenaeus, Ref. 4.38.1).
This is a famous passage, and a fine specimen of a fragment of St Irenaeus’ larger themes on the development of humankind in Christ. In and of itself, it has a number of interesting ‘theological’ or dogmatic points: the unbegottenness of the Son; the created stature of the human handiwork; the limitations of created nature; the eternity and pre-eminence of Christ; the divine economia of salvation; etc. Each of these is important—critical—to a right doctrine, and St Irenaeus spends considerable time on them across his works.

But this above passage is eminently pastoral. It is written of Adam and Eve, but its purpose is to generate true experience of the true God—to cause the reader to come to know truly the one who truly is, as he truly is; and to know himself as he truly exists. The passage demands an abdication of any view that thrusts my perception of man’s created condition into some static state, however blessed, and forces me to acknowledge the growth I must undergo as a child of Christ. It demands that I respond to any questions about why God acts when he does, why he seems not to act at other times, with the dynamic vision of a parent caring for the growth of a child into adulthood. And so this vision teaches me how to see my own ascetical experience, my own trials, my own growth. It relates me to the unbegotten Son; it recounts my economy—which, may God will it, is toward salvation. It may not always be easy to grasp or accept; but if I do, the saint's vision brings me into a truer and fuller experience of God's ever active grace.

This is the fruit of the father’s writing as pastoral. He articulates true theology as known through experience, and does so in a way that enlightens the reader’s mind to the truth—should he genuinely receive it—; which draws the reader into that experience. If I am willing to submit myself to what is shared, what is ‘traditioned’ (handed on), it has the power to transform my own experience of God. The ultimate fruit of engaging with this passage is not that I better understand creation, or economy; it is that I come to a fuller experience of God himself.

This is where our reading of the fathers is shaped by our living obedience. I cannot be transformed by the truth exposed in the patristic writings if I am dictating their meaning to them, or allowing my will to be the lens through which their words are refracted to my expectations or likings. At one level, such acts will prevent me from ever fully understanding what the fathers are saying; but at a far more important level, they will prevent me from being truly transformed by what they are sharing.

The great joy of knowing the fathers as pastors, as shepherds, is that—if only we submit and crucify day by day our will—we are presented with hundreds, thousands of texts and sayings, each of which is an open call to me; each of which can transfigure my life into the deified life of God’s genuine creation.

INXC, Dcn Matthew

[Owen Jones]

He has been mentioned at times on other threads, but I think Fr. John Romanides comments are apt. Theological doctrine is a kind of peer review process in which the right application of pastoral care and healing is exposited in order to prevent quackery in our care.

I can't help but observe that St. Ireneaus' comment about our infantile nature has not been rejected but expropriated by secularists. The idea now is that mankind has evolved through stages to a point historically so that he can now be the master of his own destiny. Secularism has expropriated the idea of progress that is implicit in St. Ireneaus' vision. Sadly, over time, theology, particularly in the West, devolved into a state of static doctrines that are disconnected from this experience of making spiritual progress, or making a spiritual journey, not just individually but also for mankind. Rather, this static system of theological precepts focuses almost exclusively on what one is supposed to believe, as if the theological truths stand alone and apart from their experiential application. In short, theology is reduced to sloganeering.

Therefore, this theological approach is easily subject to discredit and has indeed been largely discredited, from the educated elites down to the common man, who now says that it is not important what you believe, only that you are a good and decent person who has a passionate intensity for some cause that gives definition to your existence. This anti-theological bias can be seen everywhere.

It is left to Orthodoxy to redeem the theological vision of Ireneaus, but by doing more than just quoting him. A true catechesis must involve sharing this experience of making spiritual progress, from infancy into manhood. Of spiritually growing up. It can be a palpable experience, but I fear what most people experience in the pews is a kind of static belief and a sense of frustration that nothing much is happening.

George Gallup, Jr. of polling fame once remarked that the 20th century was noted for the exploration of outer space and the 21st would be dedicated to the discovery of inner space. We see no serious signs of this yet, so we must take the lead on this.

One way, of course, is to simply make ascetic texts more widely known and accessible to people, especially young people, and a few will rise to the challenge.

[Owen Jones]

Let me suggest that if we look at Acts, the underlying theme is power. The power of God to rise from the dead. The power to heal. The power to transform. The power to Glorify. The power to see God. The power to stand up and be courageous in the face of persecution. The power to preach boldly. The power to save. It is a power far greater than that of the religious authorities, or the Romans, who appear to have the power of life and death over us, and who assert that power when they feel threatened, but that power is illusory.

This is the basis of pastoral theology today as well. If we don't get that right, nothing else works. If we get that right, everything else falls into place. We do not have the power to save ourselves. We do not control our own lives, our own destinies. We do not have any power over our enemies. We do not control what other people say and do. God does. So the question is, do we try to hold back some power for ourselves, or deny or resist God's power in our lives, or try to maintain certain hidden compartments of our lives that God's power cannot touch? Do we delude ourselves into thinking that we will be happy once we get enough power? That our problems can all be traced to a lack of power over our destinies and over others? Or do we willingly turn all of our power over to God?

And what kind of God is it, therefore, that we are told to give all power to? Is He our friend or adversary? Does he seek to condemn and destroy us, or save us, redeem us, sanctify us, renew us, to our benefit? Is He just bluffing when He promises us stuff? Can He be bribed by our sacrifices into doing our will? Is His power actually limited, because we may not necessarily see it in action all the time -- or to our satisfaction? When people suffer needlessly, like innocent children who are abused by their parents, or in war? Can we willingly give up all power to such a mysterious God that we cannot really know fully His true purpose?

Until the power equation is confronted, and it almost always requires some confrontation, then nothing else works and theology is nothing but a set of abstract slogans.

[M.C. Steenberg]

Dear Owen,

Thank you for two very thought-provoking posts. There is a great deal to digest; I'm grateful for the opportunity.

INXC, Dcn Matthew

[Anna Stickles]

This is a famous passage, and a fine specimen of a fragment of St Irenaeus’ larger themes on the development of humankind in Christ.



The passage demands an abdication of any view that thrusts my perception of man’s created condition into some static state, however blessed, and forces me to acknowledge the growth I must undergo as a child of Christ.




Theology in the first-person, i.e. the theology experienced by the theologian, is the living engagement with, and union in, God himself. This is an old axiom of Orthodox Christianity—old because it is so foundational. Theology is communion. It is experience.


If theology is experience, is it Ireneaus's own experience of growing up in Christ from which he derives his wider theological themes on the growing up of humankind as a whole? Also, when the Fathers talk about what Adam was like in the garden or what the resurrection will be like, is this the fruit of them personally experiencing these things at least in part, in a mirror darkly? Do they articulate Adam's dispassion and incorruption in view of whatever degree they themselves by grace have attained this state?

[Anna Stickles]

The reason I asked about the relation between experience and theology in Ireneaus in the above post is that in the chakra thread there have been some comments as to similarities between Indian and Orthodox anthropologies.

With regard to what they are...they are conceived as being points where there is a special interaction/correspondence between the "subtle body" and the material body. The way they describe the subtle body does remind me of how I have heard the soul described in Orthodoxy...that is our soul is "bigger" than our bodies...that our body is in our soul not our soul in our body. So without debating the details there seems to be at least a rough correspondence of "natural anthropologies".

Also there is no doubt that ascetics of other traditions attain some level of dispassion, and certainly some experience of aspects of our own nature that people living a more carnal lifestyle are not aware of.
Can we assume that part of the process of growing up is coming to know ourselves as we are, coming to know parts of our nature that living a carnal lifestyle blinds us to and which an ascetical practice open our eyes too? If so then one of the thoughts that has been on my mind is that one aspect of theology that has to be stressed is that true Christain experience is not simply the experience of our own nature, but rather it is the understanding of ourselves in right relation to God. It has to be specifically a theological understanding of our experience. On the sensible level the sacramental and liturgical life of the Church gives us a theological experience. But how should we approach spiritual experience?


the 21st would be dedicated to the discovery of inner space. We see no serious signs of this yet, so we must take the lead on this.

Owen I would have to totally disagree with you here. I see signs of this everywhere. Not only the epidemic of interest in meditation, chakras, Eastern methods of healing, etc. but even in the PC churches the songs, the evangelism methods, the way Scripture is approached, etc are getting much more psychological, --It is far more experiential and inward looking now, whereas when I went to college it was all intellectual.

Met Anthony of Sourozh says in the preface to The Saying of the Desert Fathers,
"Modern man seeks mainly for 'experience' --putting himself at the center of things he wishes to make them subservient to this aim; too often, even God becomes the source from which the highest experience flows, instead of being Him Whom we adore, worship and are prepared to serve, whatever the cost to us." The observation is very relevant.

Which is precisely why I bring these issues up. A great deal of my Orthodox reading thus far has been a number of the modern Lives and some ascetical works such as found in the Philokalia, but lacking as yet much Patristic formation, what I find myself caught in is simply some amount of knowledge of raw experience. One reads about contrition and compunction, despair and ecstasy, experiences of uncreated light, experiences of demons and angles, or battles with thoughts and inner watchfulness or whatever else one may find in these books, but it is often times, if not most times, uninterpreted experience.

I come from a tradition that is more intellectual and rather anti- mystical and anti-experiential. There is in the more traditional PC a mistrust of experience and I think there is a certain amount of wisdom in this. Raw experience is just chaos.

It seems to me that it is not only the sacramental and liturgical life of the Church, but also the Patristic writers that give us the proper context for understanding whatever experiences we may have so that we are always understanding ourselves in relation to God, not simply in relation to ourselves and our own nature. Maybe I'm paranoid, but this latter it seems to me is the trap that Thomas Merton fell into, and which I see rampant outside the Church and in some cases within the Church. So one of the pertinent questions I see that the Church needs to address is how to differentiate between the experience of God, and simply the experience of our own higher nature.

Usually, I have seen people encouraged to read the lives of the saints first then patristic literature, but I wonder if this was a better injunction when the lives were not quite so full of raw experience but rather written more discreetly and in a culture that isn't on the verge of worshiping experience.

Different times different problems -first there was the worship of idols and pagan gods, then in modern times the worship of knowledge, the postmodern tendency certainly seems to be a move toward worshipping experience.

[M.C. Steenberg]

Dear Anna and others,

Thank you for the thoughtful comments. It will probably take me a while to think about them and respond to the various points.

I did just want to raise one issue: the comments in this thread demonstrate an awareness amongst posters of two different kinds of 'pastoral' theological work. There is that which is the personal work of the Church's pastors: the 'hands on' guidance given person-to-person in the times of pastoral need. This is the work of the bishop, encountered most often in the parish priest and the spiritual father, which speaks heart to heart in struggle, joy, pain, happiness; and which is forms the core of the 'practical' guidance by which our ascetical struggles are organised and guided. This is the pastoral guidance to which words, tracts, writings, all are secondary; which is the guidance of life in response to specific need.

The type I have been talking about above in the thread is the pastoral nature of the patristic testimony and writings. This is the way we can and should approach the texts -- if and when we do approach them -- in a manner that befits their place in the Church and its pastoral work.

I trust it is clear to all, though perhaps it is worth emphasizing, that these two are not one and the same. Part of the difficulty in a world that knows so much 'book learning' is that modern man tends toward the belief that he can receive pastoral guidance of the first sort from a book or a text. He cannot. Yet, without also knowing how the book is and can be pastoral, it becomes a thing opposed to pastoral shepherding.

My comments here have focused on this second sort, because on a web site dedicated to engaging with the Church's patristic heritage, it seems essential. And as to the first type: any attempt to re-create it on line betrays it immediately. :)

INXC, Dcn Matthew

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

Fr Dn Matthew wrote:



I trust it is clear to all, though perhaps it is worth emphasizing, that these two are not one and the same. Part of the difficulty in a world that knows so much 'book learning' is that modern man tends toward the belief that he can receive pastoral guidance of the first sort from a book or a text. He cannot. Yet, without also knowing how the book is and can be pastoral, it becomes a thing opposed to pastoral shepherding.


I'm glad you pointed this out- it's been on my mind for about a week now that we're talking about two distinct topics- one the pastoral and experiential nature of theological knowledge- the other, how the clergy are to guide the faithful.

The latter so far has had a very rocky road in our seminaries. Experience- which is vital to the formation of the clergy- is so difficult to pass along in a book form. It's also though too theoretical to speak about until you have entered a similar situation yourself. To succeed it needs more of a workshop format unless the aim is only to provide 'general guidelines'.

In any case I can't describe the number of times I wanted to kiss the ground in thankfulness over seeing how a more senior priest handled certain situations. Until then you aren't too sure whether you are going too far to the right or to the left. Having role models is invaluable. I'm sure there's a profound theological message in that!

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[M.C. Steenberg]

I had rather sensed we were thinking along similar lines, Father! It is the constant balance of such things.

May we thank God each day for the noble examples He puts before us.

INXC, Dcn Matthew

[Owen Jones]

Dear Anna,

With respect, I included the word "serious." Most of this inner searching that we see is just dabbling. A kind of spiritual dilletantism. Not that I am an expert! But compared to our Patristic tradition, it is just so much silliness, and self-will masquerading as serious "spirituality."

[Anna Stickles]

Dear Fr Dcn Matthew, Fr Raphael, and others,

Actually I think we are talking about three distinct topics.

Earlier I quoted St Theophan who mentions three types of interactions that seemed to me potentially 'pastoral'
It is good to read or listen, better to have a mutual discourse, and even better to ask questions of those more experienced.

Fr Dcn Matthew is trying to focus this thread on the first mentioned, (and I am sorry to have wandered off topic) other posts have dealt with the third, but a number of my posts have been specifically geared toward exploring the second, mutual discourse, as being potentially pastoral. Of course it is very different from either of the other two, being much more general and not having the authority of a spiritual father's direction, and yet more personal then a text.

This may not be what this forum is specifically about but still this website by nature is essentially an ongoing mutual discourse, and so maybe there is somewhere to talk about how we ought to approach this type of interaction. I don't know, maybe in Orthodoxy this is never seen as pastoral in any sense but merely for the exchange of information and I am bringing in too much of my PC backround and experience.

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

Dear Anna,

You quoted St Theophan the Recluse:


It is good to read or listen, better to have a mutual discourse, and even better to ask questions of those more experienced.

I am wondering what the context of this quote is.

Since in the above 'the better' is asking questions of those who are experienced we are clearly speaking of humility & obedience. This in turn illumines us as to what 'mutual discourse' and then 'reading & listening' means.

As I see it, from the patristic way of thinking, the theme of the above would actually refer to obedience.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[M.C. Steenberg]

Dear Anna, Fr Raphael and others,

Just to say how much I continue to enjoy reading and reflecting on the comments of all who are contributing in this discussion. I find myself with rather less time available to write at the moment, so am not responding as I might; but am certainly enjoying reading.

I originally started this thread, and wrote up my few contributions, based on observing certain trends in other threads recently -- so it's been particularly interesting to see how different people are approaching this issue.

INXC, Dcn Matthew

[Anna Stickles]

Dear Father Raphael,



I am wondering what the context of this quote is.



The immediate context of the quote is in post #33 (http://www.monachos.net/forum/showpost.php?p=71381&postcount=33) speaking of the means for Christain intellectual development and I very much appreciated Fr Dcn Matthew's post on what it means to be obedient to a text.

The larger context of the passage is developing the powers of the soul - it includes not just instructions on development of the intellect but also instructions on how to develop the will, the heart and the body as well. And yes he speaks specifically here how these exercises are designed to bring those powers into submission to the spirit. So the context for all of these is obedience.

This has made me reflect on the wholistic nature of Orthodoxy and what you have said elsewhere in this thread about parish life. A forum like this can help in intellectual development if approached rightly, but if this is all we are doing, then the other powers of the soul are left out. We will end up like someone who can bench press several hundred pounds but can't stand up and walk because their legs are too weak.

Dear Fr Dcn Matthew,

I think it is only after a couple days reflection on post #51 that I have really grasped the issue that you originally intended to focus this thread on. Sorry to be so slow on the uptake.

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

From post #33 the context of this quote of St Theophan appears to be the following:



A Christian intellectual development occurs when all the truths of the Faith are impressed so deeply into the intellect that the intellect's whole existence is made up of these truths alone. When it begins to reason over something, it reasons according to what it knows of the Christian truths, and would never make the slightest move without them. The Apostle calls this keeping the image of a sound mind. II Tim. 1:7

Exercises or work related to this are: reading and hearing the Word of God, patristic literature, lives of the Holy Fathers; mutual discourse; and asking questions of those more experienced.
It is good to read or listen, better to have a mutual discourse, and even better to ask questions of those more experienced.

St Theophan thus appears to be saying that the intellect (defined in a modern sense since he was so interested in education) must be guided by the truth of the Faith.

The means to this then are: reading and hearing the Word of God, patristic literature, lives of the Holy Fathers; mutual discourse; and asking questions of those more experienced.

St Theophan however puts this Christian formation within a larger framework of obedience. Thus: It is good to read or listen, better to have a mutual discourse, and even better to ask questions of those more experienced.

In other words it is possible to read and have mutual discourse and still have a deformed intellect (here I am sure he would mean this both rationally and spiritually) unless one anchors oneself in true obedience towards those more experienced in the Christian truth St Theophan is referring to.

We also need to keep in mind that until the 1960s or so education in general had as much or even more of a stress on learning obedience as a fundamental virtue than on the book learning.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Owen Jones]

I think it is important to note that Christian obedience involves a willing desire to follow instruction. This in turn involves an ongoing change in the will and intellect. It is not one dimensional, nor unidirectional. So it is possible for me to obey unwillingly for a while until I find the willingness, but this is not the desired state. And my resistance to what I am instructed to do or believe still must involve some willingness to obey for some illumined reason involving faith or trust in the person in authority. I must have some reason to trust the other person, other than the fact that I am told to trust, otherwise we are just involved in all kinds of circular reasoning.

On the other hand, Christianity is never just a matter of doing what you are told to do, or believing what you are told to believe. Obedience, like faith, is not blind. This holds true both for the person or office giving the direction and instruction and the receiver. The one in authority must always allow for the possibility that the other party or parties will not be able to assent, for whatever reason, at that moment. But he is at least planting a seed.

I think of obedience in its true sense as listening, in the true sense of the meaning as Christ uses it: he who has ears to hear. If I have the ears to hear, then I will be naturally responsive to what I hear from others in a way that results in some change on my part. It's not just that I would be doing what I am told, but that I am changed. That's the essence of it: change. Some interior change in my very being and nature, so that my thoughts and actions naturally follow, and I don't have to think through everything at every juncture. I will be living obediently, not because I have to go consult an authority on every occasion, but because I have found the Bishop within, so to speak.

Now, the Church has institutionalized this in many ways, with the laying on of hands, etc., but the danger always is that these institutionalized methods of conferring authority and of exerting authority become so formalized that they lack real spiritual power. And so the authority of the Bishop is something that is just assumed, rather than lived -- by both parties: the giver and the receiver.

It gets complicated because sometimes we are required to be obedient, even when we know the person in authority is wrong. And other times we are not to follow someone who is wrong. That is why without some kind of inner change, illumination, discernment, obedience is indubitably a double-edged sword.

So, given the pastoral nature of theology, instruction should also include the how of it, not just the what or the why, e.g. this is how we learn what is true. The truth is something that must be demonstrated in action and has no separate existence of its own. It must be "incarnate" as we say. It must be something that is lived and can be seen and heard. It must be something that I am drawn toward. But in much "religious" instruction, the spiritual content of it is spilled out. Some tough questions ought to be asked, of ourselves and of others. Do I really want what is being offered? Am I willing to go to any lengths to get it/receive it? There is a cost involved. It's like truth in advertising. There are embedded and/or hidden costs involved. These need to be made more explicit in our instruction and preaching.

God does not just want us to believe in Him. He wants our lives in His hands, in His possession. Can we really assent to that? Are we really ready for the consequences of that decision -- in all our affairs? Not just on Sunday morning, or in specifically religious contexts?

So without the proper preparation for true obedience, obedience becomes a burden, even a curse. Because we are trying to be obedient based on self-will.

[Rick H.]

So without the proper preparation for true obedience, obedience becomes a burden, even a curse. Because we are trying to be obedient based on self-will.




Very good post and conclusion Owen. Thank you.

And, as I think of your previous comments about a 'fixation on religion' there is possibly even a double curse to be found in a fixation and 'an obedience based on self-will' together. Critical distinctions here in order to avoid a blind leading the blind.

[Owen Jones]

Yes, when obedience is just a fixation, it becomes a curse. Every good and true thing has its deformation. So Satan never calls us to be evil, or to become evil. He always attracts us with some deformed vision of the Good. He says, hey, obedience is a good thing. You must always be obedient. So you must do whatever you are told, whenever, knowing that this results in a deformed soul, and he is accomplishing his ends by undermining the true spiritual power of the Church.

It is easy to show this in extreme cases. Hitler was very adept at getting Church leaders on his side, and getting them to do his dirty work for him under the guise of obedience to authority. And many millions of unformed Christians and Christian leaders followed him. In hindsight we ask, how did this happen? But we ask that question only because we have not looked at how we do this ourselves in subtle ways. We are attracted to some deformed version of obedience so that we do not have to be responsible, perhaps? Or so that we can point fingers at others and condemn them for not being obedient -- like us?

So to simply say that obedience is the basis of our spiritual lives is not good, without the proper instruction in what the true spirit of obedience means and how we come by it. And, of course, as in all things, one typically knows a little about the subject, only because one is quite familiar with his own sins on the subject, not because he has mastered the virtue. If you get my drift...

[M.C. Steenberg]

Dear friends,

I've very much appreciated some of the recent thoughts in this thread - particularly in recent posts by Owen, Fr Raphael and Anna. It is nice to see how so many dimensions of an issue come out and strike chords differently in different people. This is precisely part of the truly pastoral context of the whole of Christian life.

My own initial focus was on the approach to the patristic testimony: how do we, if/when we do read the texts of the fathers of the Church, do so in the context of truly pastoral engagement? As Owen has well brought out, if from a slightly different angle, that which is truly pastoral is active on both sides - the 'giver' as well as the 'receiver'; so while all the texts of the fathers are pastoral in their nature, to encounter them pastorally is something that involves our own work as well. So we, for our own health and growth, must learn how to approach the patristic texts pastorally, in real (and not false) obedience, so that what we receive from them is a true pastoral vision, rather than simply a pseudo-science or, worse, a new context for constructing the visions of our own will. On a site dedicated to engaging with and discussing the patristic heritage, this seems a special task for us to embrace ever more directly -- else the fathers become little more than the playthings of our own imaginations, their texts sourcebooks for positions and interpretations.

That was the thought originally in my mind as I wrote out my first few contributions in this thread; but it's been a joy to see how the general issue has brought out many different dimensions of experience.

Clearly, and as I've already written above, this pastoral engagement with the texts of the fathers is one form of the Church's pastoral work -- specifically, the way an interaction with the patristic heritage is and must be pastoral, if it is to be anything at all. But equally as clearly, this pastoral nature of the patristic texts and our interaction with them, is not the whole scope of the Church's pastoral work. This is quite obvious, even if it bears repeating. It's quite clear, I'm certain to everyone, that if someone is suffering, feeling pain, confronting doubt, etc., that saying, 'Go read so-and-so and everything will be better', however one is enjoined to read it, would be abhorrent pastoral 'care'. I'm delighted no one has so misunderstood the topic as to think this would ever be suggested!

Which is why I see the various 'side issues' of this thread as really quite informative. Anna, you are quite right that mutual dialogue also has a strong pastoral dimension; and so long as we do not allow our discussions to 'override' the guidance given to us in other contexts, is exceedingly valuable. We have to be on guard against the 'democratization' of pastoral counsel -- my term for the mis-use of discussion and dialogue to find a position we like and are comfortable with, and call it ours -- which works against the kind of living obedience that Owen was describing; but in its proper context and place, mutual discourse has always been a key ingredient in the pastoral life of the Church.

INXC, Deacon Matthew

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

Fr Dn Matthew wrote:



So we, for our own health and growth, must learn how to approach the patristic texts pastorally, in real (and not false) obedience, so that what we receive from them is a true pastoral vision, rather than simply a pseudo-science or, worse, a new context for constructing the visions of our own will. On a site dedicated to engaging with and discussing the patristic heritage, this seems a special task for us to embrace ever more directly -- else the fathers become little more than the playthings of our own imaginations, their texts sourcebooks for positions and interpretations.

We must read the Holy Fathers with renewed minds and especially with simplicity. The way that most of us have learned how to read and listen is critically, ie we demand, ask or need something from what we relate to. When we come to the Patristic writings however this critical attitude does not allow us to hear what they are saying. Basically they are not yet our holy Fathers.

For this to occur then it must take place from a place of obedience & simplicity.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Fr Raphael Vereshack]

Fr Dn Matthew wrote:



We have to be on guard against the 'democratization' of pastoral counsel -- my term for the mis-use of discussion and dialogue to find a position we like and are comfortable with, and call it ours -- which works against the kind of living obedience that Owen was describing; but in its proper context and place, mutual discourse has always been a key ingredient in the pastoral life of the Church.


On my mind for the past week was what was written in the Russian by St Theophan the Recluse. What it says is:


Хорошо – читать или слушать, лучше – взаимное собеседование, а еще лучше – слово опытнейшего .

взаимное собеседование is a nice phrase basically meaning mutual discourse as in the translation from Platina. What it denotes is a quiet and or intimate conversation between parties. When a priest for example has a holds a theological/pastoral discussion in the parish hall after the service this is called a 'beseda'. It is not a talk or speech for the communication is two way.

On the other hand though I can understand why Platina chose the word 'discourse' for собеседование since the word dialogue has been given added and loaded meaning in our time.

In any case what we are talking about here is communication as anchored in an understanding of the truth of the Church.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Anna Stickles]

We have to be on guard against the 'democratization' of pastoral counsel -- my term for the mis-use of discussion and dialogue to find a position we like and are comfortable with, and call it ours -- which works against the kind of living obedience that Owen was describing

This sounds like a sophisticated adult version of what most parents are familiar with. If the child doesn't get the answer from Dad that they want they will go ask Mom to see if they will get a more pleasing answer.

Today I wrote a blog entry and after reading it realized it fit in with the theme that Fr Dcn Matthew originally intended for this thread. The style isn't precisely geared toward our conversation here but since there are a number of themes that I would enjoy some further discussion on I thought I would go ahead and import it.


There is always this tendency of the human mind to recreate God in our own image, in the image of our own experience of our fallen state, rather then to truly recognize God in His nature and uncorrupted image.

When we imagine Jesus, do we imagine a man just like us?..... well He wasn't. Christ had no sin, Christ was the second Adam and His life was a life uncorrupted by the Fall. He was immortal, He was holy. We must not make Christ into our own fallen image in our imaginations, rather we must strive to cooperate with Christ in letting Him remake us into the uncorrupted image of God. To do this though we have to have some idea what incorruption is; what an eternal, immortal, holy life is. We have to have some idea of the goal.

Warning- incorruption, holiness, the state of being that God is telling us to strive for when He says, "Be perfect", the state of being promised us in Christ, is not what we experience as natural and normal. Our ideas of what is natural and normal for human existence are formed by our cultural and personal experience and it is precisely these ideas that need to be overturned so that we can know what we were created to be in the first place.

What then is this experience of being incorrupt like? What was Christ like? The best witness we have is those Fathers of the Church who Christ has recreated and restored. These are the ones who have lived to a high degree the incorrupt life. This is why reading the lives of the Saints is so important in the Orthodox tradition. It is communicated experience. We get a glimpse into an experience of being that we have no other way of touching.

When I use words with a spiritual connotation like the word 'love' what will come into your mind when you hear the word is whatever experience of love you have had in your life. The kid from the inner city whose parents were drug addicts and who joined a gang in order to meet his need for love and fellowship is going to have a far different concept come into his mind then the child raised with parents wholly devoted to him. However, even the inner city kid can start to see another possibility, another meaning of love, if you give him stories or examples.

When reading stories, though, we will tend to put too much of ourselves into the characters in the story instead of seeing them as they are. This is why teaching is needed also and this instruction and explanation is what the Patristic witness gives us.

So then it is the Patristic writings that give us the philosophical and theological definitions that ground the lived experience we see in the saints.

[M.C. Steenberg]

In the above, Fr Raphael wrote:



We must read the Holy Fathers with renewed minds and especially with simplicity. The way that most of us have learned how to read and listen is critically, ie we demand, ask or need something from what we relate to. When we come to the Patristic writings however this critical attitude does not allow us to hear what they are saying. Basically they are not yet our holy Fathers.

I was particularly grateful to read this, Father. One of the surprising joys of spending a great deal of time with the fathers, is discovering what 'simplicity' means in their approach to the Church's writings. Simplicity doesn't mean a lack of engagement, a lack of critical discussion, a lack of erudition. Simplicity is a condition of the heart that submits itself to the presence of divine truth; which confirms itself to the truth without mediation, rather than refracting the truth through various lenses to make it more comprehensible, more palatable.

Some of the father's most 'complex' writing is also the most 'simple'. And some modern attempts at 'simplicity' are utterly foreign to the true simplicity of ascetical obedience and engagement.

INXC, Dcn Matthew

[M.C. Steenberg]

Dear Anna,

I enjoyed very much your comments above on conceptions and experience. You are quite right that this is at the heart of approaching patristic writings. It is so very easy, so very compelling, so inviting, to read them as potential mouthpieces for our own experience. To find echoes of our own ideas, and use those writings to vocalise our experience, our understanding. To see a text on love, and to read it or proclaim it in a way that in fact expresses my own vision of love; to read a text on redemption, and to use it to voice my own fallen, broken, base understanding of redemption.

So very inviting, and yet so fruitless. The fathers, read this way, are simply amplifiers of our own will. We take their words, and make them confess our own desires.

Sometimes the hardest task of truly ecclesiastical reading, but always the most rewarding, the most renewing, is the need to crucify that inner, broken will at the front page of every text. To see the fathers as those who will change me, not I them; who will speak to me, not I to or for them. To learn from them what is love, what is sorrow, what is redemption -- not to find in them ways of expressing what I believe or want or feel these things should be. To find a truer vision of myself in their words, rather than finding in their words a way of expressing my willful self.

INXC, Dcn Matthew

[Rick H.]

Fr. Dcn. Matthew's post above is very helpful to me to understand what simplicity means in the approach of the Fathers to the Church's writings. In this I see that:


1.) Simplicity does not mean a 'lack' of engagement

2.) Simplicity does not mean a 'lack' of critical discussion

3.) Simplicity does not mean a 'lack' of erudition [extensive knowledge acquired chiefly from books : profound, recondite, or bookish learning]


. . . and presented positively

"Simplicity is a condition of the heart that submits itself to the presence of divine truth; which confirms itself to the truth without mediation, rather than refracting the truth through various lenses to make it more comprehensible, more palatable."

This brings to me a heavenly equilibrium.

I am reminded of another thread and post (on reason and philosophy), which brings a huge leveling, and overlaps here somewhat with a consideration of the approach of the Fathers:




But to the larger question: yes, there is a great deal of room for intellectual questioning and philosophical reflection in the Orthodox tradition. Our patristic corpus is filled with the writings of individuals who cannot but be considered masters in these arenas: Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, Maximus Confessor, Athanasius of Alexandria, Symeon the New Theoloian, Gregory Palamas, Nikodemos of the Holy Mountain, Leo the Great, to name but a few. All of these men wrote works of intricate philosophical investigation and endeavour, and not one among them preached that 'faith' equates to 'simply accepting without thinking'. Many of them suggested that true faith, ultimate faith, is an interior acceptance that goes beyond thinking, that goes past reason, dialectic and cognition; but never that it is opposed to these things.

This is a subtle but essential difference, which is absolutely foundational to an understanding of the Orthodox understanding of reason, or philosophy, as it relates to divine truth. In this tradition, reason and its use are whole-heartedly embraced (hence the oft-repeated liturgical reference to man as 'God's rational creatures', etc.), but with a proviso. Reason is a tool, in the same way that fasting is a tool, or that any other element of the ascetic endeavour is a tool: it is not the end, but a means toward obtaining the end, which is true union with God.

. . . It is all, essentially, a matter of approach.

[Owen Jones]

There is another important aspect I'm not sure we've touched on, but that is that there is a pastoral need for the intellect to be properly ordered, so that it mimics or conforms to the structure of reality as a whole. The intellectual bent, if you will, of much of Greek theology is intent on identifying the intellectual structures of reality as this divine ordering force in our minds. So while the more obvious matters that we associate with pastoral guidance such as sin and repentance, that lead to a healthy reordering of the whole mind/body/will complex are not necessarily that obvious in some Greek theological treatises, it does not mean they are not profoundly pastoral in nature.

Conversion is part will, part intellect, part bodily action. And for Orthodoxy, conversion is not just a once and for all time event, but we must continually turn our attention away from sin and worldliness to God, and not just because we are "backsliding," but in order to make progress. So the Greek Fathers use extended intellectual arguments to engage the intellect in the urgent task of conversion, not to mention the need to speak and preach boldly in an intellectually confused world, then and now.

[M.C. Steenberg]

Dear Owen,

My thanks for that insightful and helpful post. You've touched on something right at the heart of the whole matter; namely, the various ways in which the writings of the fathers do, in fact, work the transformation of the person. There are some 'expected' ways, but as you rightly point out, there are also those that are less obviously pastoral, but which, in their focus on the right ordering and shaping of the nous, pastorally guide the faithful person into truer life.

INXC, Dcn Matthew

[Allen Long]

I would add that this is also the way we should read Scripture.


Fr Dn Matthew wrote:

We must read the Holy Fathers with renewed minds and especially with simplicity. The way that most of us have learned how to read and listen is critically, ie we demand, ask or need something from what we relate to. When we come to the Patristic writings however this critical attitude does not allow us to hear what they are saying. Basically they are not yet our holy Fathers.

For this to occur then it must take place from a place of obedience & simplicity.

In Christ- Fr Raphael

[Rick H.]

When I read the words of Fr. Raphael (as quoted above by Mr. Long), it occurred to me how this really applies to reading works such as we see in the Philokalia. I remember the first day I picked up vol. 1 of this set in a book store. I cracked it open halfway in the book and started reading. After about 3 minutes of reading I knew I was taking this book home. I could "hear" what was being said, it touched my heart deeply in a profound way and seemed to bring about a renewing of the mind and a shaping of the nous in an all encompassing way. Just even spending a small amount of time with this collection of works seemed to bring about a naturally occurring contemplative state. And, while I had always thought we should read everything critically, that day, and since then, I have changed my mind. In light of what Fr. Raphael has written it is a mistake to read all things critically. Because to do this is to bring about a vanishing of what is being expressed, at times. . . not unlike a contemplative state whereby when one is given certain gifts (whether the eyes are open or closed), if one tries to reach out and grasp what is given to hold it and go deeper, and in a sense build a tabernacle for it to remain on a more permanent basis . . . then it vanishes.

In this sense, it is only through what might be called a positive disengagement that one may truly find the condition of his heart submissive, passive, receptive, as opposed to the one who is actively engaged in a demanding way with what one is relating to, with what one desires to become one with. From Owen's drift in the above post to the first post in this thread which speaks of theology in the first person--"the theology experienced by the theologian, is the living engagement with, and union in, God himself"--I think this is what is at the heart of the matter here in this thread.

What is life giving and quickening? What is empty and dead?

Is it the same for all?

Is the rule given by Fr. Raphael equally applicable for technical articulation of theology as it is for what we might consider to be monastic expression?

I think Fr. Raphael is dead on with his comments as it relates to monastic writings. But, as we may consider some writings that would not be regarded as monastic writings is it not true that there needs to be a direct engagement, real critical discussion, and a significant degree of erudition in order to have any chance at all of understanding what is being said?

Yes, theology in the first person. We are not all the same, we have different bents and leanings. We are not all monastics, not all academics, not all lay, not all clergy. We come from different places and have been shaped and molded differently by the particular churches we have attended and by our individual spiritual fathers. Some of us have been given ears to hear what is life giving and quickening from one such as the uneducated old lady who sits in the corner of the fellowship hall every Sunday morning after church. Some of us have been given ears to hear from the dessert hermits more than from one such as John Zizioulas for example. And, so on . . .

In fact, possibly this is a good example to use. Take the writings of Zizioulas for example, which assume a degree of knowledge of contemporary theological trends. Without an critical approach, without an active and direct engagement with his writing, without a kind of bearing down on what he writes combined with a degree of erudition it will require an act of Divine intervention for any 'lacking' these things to have the slightest clue of what he is talking about.

In short, to read Zizioulas with a lack of these things (and barring Divine intervention) would be to read the following:




A lsdjdjf df aldkjdfkj d jjiwonw noieionw lakhjthht kl; kjow, nowienoh nkonknl lkjj kkll vvoiwn tonnntklnlw!




So, on the one hand, I don't really want to draw a distinction between what we might consider monastic expression and other works from writing theologians. But, I am wondering if we could have some discussion on this.

I think our approach is essential, but as well it occurs to me that possibly there is no one approach that covers all Orthodox writing that could be presented as a rule for all Orthodox persons. It would seem that this is necessarily so to avoid an irony of the first order, if you get my drift . . .

Do we see from a consideration of reading monastic works as compared to other possibly less than monastic works that the nature of pastoral theology must necessarily take into consideration what has been shared by Herman the Simple, in the past, about "different players and different coaches?"

And, I say irony of the first order because so much if not everything in Orthodoxy seems to boil down to the relationship between the individual Orthodox Church Member and his direct and responsible relationship with his spiritual father . . . but, it seems we are close to laying down dogma here about how all should read what.

And, this is only a part of 'reality as a whole,' but, I think it is a very large part for most of us here who think and write on monachos.net.


In some ways I have to wonder if we aren't being both too narrow with our principles as well as too broad with our application at times. I think to miss this, especially in a discussion of the nature of pastoral theology is to miss everything (viz. in many ways, one size does not fit all).

'A subtle, but essential difference.'

[Rick H.]

In some ways this is a separate topic, but in others it has a direct bearing on the recent turn in this discussion.

When Father Raphael says in the above quote:





We must read the Holy Fathers . . .




Who are "the Holy Fathers?"

In his last post in the Yoga/Chakra thread, Andreas gave me pause for reflection when he said he just quoted from a 20th century Father.

As it relates to our readings of the Fathers and a possible consideration of how we read the corpus of patristic writings and how we read monastic expression, I think this is a fair question.

For example, is Bishop Zizioulas a 21st century Father?

I think this matters in light of the general comments/imperatives about how we read what.

[Anna Stickles]

is it not true that there needs to be a direct engagement, real critical discussion, and a significant degree of erudition in order to have any chance at all of understanding what is being said?




The way that most of us have learned how to read and listen is critically, ie we demand, ask or need something from what we relate to.



Simplicity doesn't mean a lack of engagement, a lack of critical discussion, a lack of erudition. Simplicity is a condition of the heart that submits itself to the presence of divine truth; which confirms itself to the truth without mediation, rather than refracting the truth through various lenses to make it more comprehensible, more palatable.


I've really enjoyed this discussion because it brings out some of the questions in my own mind. Can say that there are two types of critical reading? One comes to the text in a self-willed way. This could be in a way that uses the text simply as a way of prooving my preconcieved ideas and beliefs. It could also be in a way that comes to the text with preconcieved questions that I am either consciously or unconsciously demanding answers to. This is often not as obviously self-willed and needs more discernment to catch but this second is what I think Fr Raphael and Dcn Matthew were trying to get at, just in different words. Submission to divine Truth is the opposite of demanding something of God. Often, too, we don't want what God has to give us and I can really appreciate Fr Dcn Matthew's comments on our attempts to make the truth more palatable.

However, there is a beneficial type of critical reading. Some things I think of in conjunction with a right kind of critical engagement are letting the text, in a spirit of prayer bring questions to mind that we then hold in abeyance and see if they are answered. And maybe they will not be answered till we read something else or gain additional life experience.

Also we engage critically with the text in trying to understand the terms being used and exactly what is being said in context, trying to get into the author's mindset, conforming ourselves to it as Owen said. Also when we read the Fathers we should look for repeated themes. This I think is where we start finding a real integration. Recently in reading St Gregory of Nyssa I came across a number of passages that reflect what Fr Dcn Matthew brought up earlier



The passage demands an abdication of any view that thrusts my perception of man’s created condition into some static state, however blessed, and forces me to acknowledge the growth I must undergo as a child of Christ.


like this one.



For man does not merely have an inclination to evil; if this were so, it would be impossible for him to grow in good, if his nature possessed only an inclination towards the contrary. But in truth the finest aspect of our mutability is the possibility of growth in good; and this capacity for improvement transforms the soul, as it changes, more and more into the divine. And so...what appears so terrifying ( I mean the mutability of our nature) can really be a pinion in our flight towards higher things, and indeed it would be a hardship if we were not susceptible of the sort of change which is towards the better. One ought not then to be distressed when one considers this tendency in our nature; rather let us change in such a way that we may constantly evolve towards what is better, being transformed from glory to glory, and thus always improving and ever becoming more perfect by daily growth, and never arriving at any limit of perfection. For perfections consists in our never stopping in our growth for good, never circumscribing our perfection by any limitation. On Perfection


I enjoyed the additional perspective here on how we often fear change. We can see that in the history of the Church. There are those who hold on to traditions like a security blanket not letting God continue to perfect Tradition.

However, from my reading it seems to me that as one advances in perfection we do not just change our state of being but also our mode of action. And how we read changes also.

Here are some quotes from a passage on pure prayer in St Silouan the Athonite, by Elder Sophrony that struck me.



"But for an ascetic to fall from pure prayer into the opacity of a sensual approach to the world means that he is distancing himself from the Lord. ...Only by uninterrupted effort can the ascetic preserve himself from the humiliation to which the flesh constantly drags him down. And the more frequently his spiritual moods recur and the longer they last, the more painful it is for him when he falls back to a sensual approach to the world....

It is impossible for one who follows this path to indulge in abstract rational cogitation even concerning the mysteries of the faith. His soul avoids all discursive argument leading to a peculiar disintegration of the unity and integrality of the life of the spirit panting in prayer after God."


So yes, there is no one rule fits all, but I think we do have to strive for the better things to the best of our strength, and not consider all approaches equal even if all approaches are, at one point or another in our spiritual life, helpful.

[Rick H.]

The Pastoral Nature of Theology: "The Heart of the Pastor"


I cannot tell if we are all tracking along together, or not, in this discussion lately; but, I must say that I appreciated reading Anna's post as a whole, and her conclusion above where she wrote:




So yes, there is no one rule fits all, but I think we do have to strive for the better things to the best of our strength, and not consider all approaches equal even if all approaches are, at one point or another in our spiritual life, helpful.



Sometimes, I think this simple thing is forgotten too often (viz. there is no one rule which fits all). To be honest, right or wrong, this understanding or lack of it has become a kind of barometer for me over the years. There is a mentality (an epistemology if you will) found in the one who really believes in what is expressed in such sayings as this. It can be expressed in different ways, as Fr. Jack Sparks does, "Each as is appropriate for oneself." And, there is also a mode, a method, a mood (an ontology if you will) which manifests what is truly believed. In my experience the one with the pastor's heart, as the expression goes, is the same one who both knows first hand and models consistently the pastoral nature of theology which deals with the individual person where he or she is at! The one with the pastor's heart does not expect the end of the process at the beginning of the process or in the middle of the process. The one with the pastor's heart understands clearly that all approaches are not equal, but (within reason) as Anna also says, all approaches can at one point or another be helpful. I wonder who can see the peace, the patience, the wisdom, and foremost the Love in this way of knowing, this way of being, this way of formation, this way of guiding and directing. And, this whole situation between the father and the child involves a significant degree of freedom.

But, even in this, someone could easily say something like, "Yes, Rick, I hear what you are saying; but,isn't that just 'your way' and you are violating the above principle!" Possibly, someone could bring up an Athonite spirituality and make the case that this is another way not necessarily aligned perfectly with what has just been described about the Life in Christ above. However, to say this or bring up an Athonite spirituality does not tear down the dominant principle of Love but it builds it up (and the dominant principle serves as a barometer of sorts).

So, back to earth, back to us here today sitting at our keyboards typing away with our little posts and hitting the send button. Who here in this discussion today is a 24/7 monastic living in a monastery or in the desert or in a skete? I would guess the answer is no one.

We are store clerks and nurses, we are teachers and doctors, we are mothers and fathers, husbands and wives with responsibilities and demands placed on us almost every hour of the day. Yes, it is absurd to think there is one rule that fits all, isn't it? And, in this light when I read the above quote from a passage on pure prayer in St Silouan the Athonite, by Elder Sophrony (whoever said this) . . . I wonder who is this directed towards, to whom does this train of thought apply? From what there is to work with here it seems to be directed towards the 24/7 monastic. And, as it would be applied to us here today sneaking time out of our day to type our little posts, these assertions seem to be distant or out of touch with us. One could wonder how relevant this could be for each of us . . . to what degree does this kind of spirituality apply to us (or to what degree does this kind of spirituality mock us).

Whereby, I think we find a clear answer and a perfect model in an exchange between Fr. Seraphim and Fr. Raphael. (Spiritual Fatherhood & Monasticism thread post #2)

Fr. Seraphim asks:





That which I would like to ask, is this, essentially "Life in Christ" to quote St. Nicholas Cabasilas known in its fulness only to monastics? Or is this "descent to earth of the angelic powers" open to all Christ's sons and daughters?






To which Fr. Raphael replies:




All must respond to this call which ultimately is similar for all.
I guess the question arises though because of the degree of monastic obedience and asceticism. The laity rightfully ask to what degree they should be following this also?

The answer I think is, 'to the degree that is right for them'.


"To the degree that is right for them" . . . yes, a pastor's heart. I wonder if this is one of those things that we all nod our heads to when it is brought up, but is something that we really do forget after the head nodding and 'amens' are over with and we go our separate ways?

I feel very strongly that theology becomes dead and lifeless and dangerous for all concerned when its pastoral nature, as manifested in the above exchange, is forgotten or omitted for any reason. And, this is not something that is hard to understand or to bring into view. I do not think there is a special gift of discernment required here to differentiate between this way of knowing and this mode or mood or method/approach.

This is something that is very obvious, in fact, I think it is very hard to hide where one stands on this matter as it relates to both a Theology of Freedom and a Theology of Love. And, if I had more time I'd reprint a previously posted piece on agape and eros because this speaks directly to the pastoral nature of theology in a way that cannot be denied . . .

But, on second thought I'm not sure all of the copy on agape and eros would address this thread, at this point in our discussion, more than what Fr. Raphael says when he wrote to Fr. Seraphim:





At first sight this might seem like a lot less than a monastic. But if pursued faithfully it could well be that it is actually as great as anything offered by monasticism.



As it relates to this conversation I really do feel that if we can't hear/see this, then at best there is a fixation on religion and we are preachers of self-will unaware . . . or at worst we cannot hear anything at all.

[Owen Jones]

Christ is the example for all of us, and to say that only the monastic can approximate Christ I think is an error. Monasticism is a calling. Motherhood is a calling, etc. Through monasticism we all benefit, through their example and their prayers on our behalf. But there is no reason why any other Christian cannot approximate Christ's virtues in every sense. Yes, only monastics, perhaps, devote themselves to chastity and poverty, but many who are not monastics can observe these virtues in spirit, which, as has often been pointed out, is perhaps a more difficult task while living in the world. This is why we can take the writings and counsel of the ascetics and appropriate them, because they all apply to our daily lives on some level. And it is why you see such concern by the ascetics themselves that they not see themselves as virtuous. Monasticism has its own set of temptations. All men are liars and that applies to monastics as well.

[Owen Jones]

It's time to talk about the nature of the problem that pastoral theology is an answer to. The primary pastoral problem now, as always, is fear. This exists on any number of levels about any number of things. Since we live in a kind of managerial age, I've found it helpful to list them, mentally, or on paper. This is not really how the Fathers address the problem -- I think it is more or less assumed -- but certainly Jesus did. How many times does He (or an angel of God) say, "Fear not!" Fear is the greatest obstacle to the truth, and the greatest obstacle to God's work in us. So a truly pastoral approach to theology must begin with the assumption that you are battling fear in the hearer, and in one's self. Fear to proclaim the truth, fear of hearing it, because of all of the implications. And we are at the point where it becomes a matter of courage to state the obvious in conversation, whether we are with believers or not. The most obvious point to be made is this, if there is no God, then were does all of this come from? The God problem is avoided studiously by most people in polite conversation, in part because we have all been burned by self-appointed preachers, but also because atheism is in the air. We breath it in and out constantly.

[Rick H.]

For my part I would break down the nature of the problem in terms of apprehension and anxiety; or possibly more to the point doubt. Not a doubt in the sense of denial or negation. But, a doubt that oscillates or staggers between Yes and No. In this sense an uncertainty that does bring about a fear of moving in any direction. I think the expression used to be 'paralyzed with fear' which usually results in a full blown apathy or the wearing of the smiling face of resignation . . . either way misery.. Yes, we have all been burned, and all been to the place where we have said (or wanted to say) the emperor has no clothes, but what good does it do to say the model is broken? What good really comes from listing 95 or so things on a piece of paper and nailing it to a door? The response to those who say these things and do these things always comes in the form of well honed responses, or a request to recant or to just shut up and sit down. But, where were we? Oh yes, pastoral theology as an answer.

[Anna Stickles]

Yes Faith, Hope and Love -to strengthen this in the soul of a person is true pastoral theology. It is a cleansing out of fear, delusion and pride. These three latter it seems to me are never separated, but where one lurks, so also lurk the others. And where true faith is growing, hope and love are sure to follow.