Top 10 Books for Inquirers

Inspired by Christopher Orr’s post on Orrologion, I thought it might be positive to do my own Top 10 books for people looking into Orthodoxy.

It sounds like a relatively simple idea, of course, but it isn’t.  Any person looking into Orthodoxy has their own background from which they come – an Evangelical Christian may understand things entirely differently from a Neopagan, for example – and that’s notwithstanding things like cultural or gender differences.

However, my top 10:

The Orthodox Church, by Timothy Ware (now Metropolitan Kallistos of Diolkeia).

This was the first book that I read, and read a few times.  Considering I was 16 at the time, that’s not a bad start.

Christianity and Eros, by Philip Sherrard.

I know this one sounds odd, and seems to just be because I was 17 at the time, but I can explain :) .  In addition to being a flat interesting title, it completely changed my ideas on Orthodox views on the human person – and how they were sane and made sense.

Dancing Alone, by Frank Schaeffer.

This won’t win me many favours in the Orthodox blogosphere.  It didn’t win me many favours at the time, either, but for entirely different reasons.  But I stand by this choice: it’s a book that talks about Orthodoxy, and about how we aren’t living up to this yet.  The honesty – often ranging between brutal and obnoxious – was a good preparation.

The Divine Liturgy of St John Chrysostom.

Seriously, this is beautiful – and moreso when you know what the prayers are, and how much Scripture – Old and New Testaments – is infused in them.  And, it’s even better live.

After these four, though, I move from my foundational books to other fascinating books.  At the time of my conversion, I didn’t have enough money to buy many books…

The Orthodox Study Bible.

Oh, I know, not recommending the Bible – of all things – to a newcomer.  While this may seem silly, I stand by it.  The Church in the first century was subtly different to the Church today – for instance, they knew Jesus from walking around with Him and having chats with Him around the fireplace, watching His crucifixion and beholding Him resurrected, while we must rely on their letters and memoirs.

Orthodox Theology: An Introduction, by Vladimir Lossky.

A fantastic book.  Outstanding.  The fact that it’s a textbook in a distance-ed, applied theology course, though, makes me wonder if it’s really for newcomers; perhaps someone would be able to enlighten me about this.

Becoming Orthodox, by Fr Peter Gillquist

A fascinating, engaging story that many have found helped them understand and, sometimes, become Orthodox.  I read this long after I was Orthodox, though.

Christ the Eternal Tao, by Hieromonk Damascen

An incredible devotional book, in my mind.  I loved it, it sounded poetic.  Then again, I came from a fairly esoteric background – perhaps this would be a book that I would give to people of other backgrounds to learn about Orthodoxy.

Of Water and the Spirit, by Fr Alexander Schmemann

A textbook in my first year of theological study, but it changed the way that I thought.  For one thing, the book demanded that each person live up to their baptism, that baptism was a responsibility that we must take up.  For the Life of the World was a close second, and probably a good summary.

The Synaxarion, transl. Hmk Makarios of Simonopetra (Mt Athos)

I realise that this is a multi-volume text – I’m halfway through Volume 5.  I read a number of these early on in my life as an Orthodox Christian, and it was very beneficial.

If I was to recommend another, I’d go for the Octoechos; if I were to recommend non-Orthodox books, I’d go for The Screwtape Letters and The Great Divorce, both by C.S. Lewis

So, there you have it.  Feel free to comment – criticise my choice, add more of your own, as you like!

The Symbol of Faith – I Believe…

The word ‘Creed’ comes from the Latin credo, meaning ‘I believe’. Creeds have been around since the earliest days in the Church, with the simplest one based on the confession that Jesus is the Christ (Messiah), and that the Christ is the Lord, and the confession of this belief was a prerequisite for baptism.  Depending on the heresies that a particular local community had to respond to, the creeds would often develop in different ways to better explain what this belief meant.

The main creed in the Orthodox Church is called ‘The Nicene Creed’, and…

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For more information, see The Symbol of Faith – I Believe… on the Anesti website, at: http://www.anesti.info/information-on-the-orthodox-church/the-symbol-of-faith-i-believe

Holy Tradition in the Orthodox Church

One of the most important parts of Orthodox theology is adherence to what is known as ‘Holy Tradition’, expressed through changelessness – even timelessness – and a sense of living continuity with the ancient Church (2 Thess 2:15).

Tradition, in the Orthodox Church, refers to the Holy Bible, the Creed of Nicaea and Constantinople, the decrees of the Ecumenical Councils, the writings of Church Fathers, the Canons, service books, icons… each addition found in comformity with what came before, and primarily, in conformity with the centre of our Tradition, Holy Scripture. There is no conflict between Scripture and Tradition – God, the source of revelation, gave us the former and guides us with the latter…

To read more, visit Holy Tradition in the Orthodox Church on the Anesti website: http://www.anesti.info/information-on-the-orthodox-church/holy-tradition-in-the-orthodox-church/

Spirit Show by People

This weekend, I had the honour of being able to attend an art exhibition put on by Andrew Costi – the third one that I’ve been able to get to – I think I’m beginning to be a bit of a regular!

Andrew invited me to make some commentary on some of his paintings, which I intend to do, but first I wanted to note what stuck out to me, even before I walked in the door.

When I looked at the pamphlet for this show, it was entitled ‘Spirit: An Art Show By People’.  Obviously, slightly odd – it’s not like there are many art shows that aren’t put on by people!

But, I would hold that there is a bigger point being made here.

The key point of this is not that this is an art show put on by people, as opposed to the other art shows that are not.  The point is that on focusing on Spirit, those putting the art show on have become, in a deeper sense, people.

We look at animals, and note that there is really nothing deeper going on there.  There are relationships between animals, sure, and humans are able to develop a connection with animals, but most would remain unconvinced in the face of any argument that animals have metacognition or were, in any way, thinking about anything beyond the here and now.

This is what separates humans.
Our ability to evaluate, our ability to consider, our ability to think beyond ourselves…this is what makes us realise our own humanity.

These are people who, not only seeing their own humanity, are actually accessing that element, that ineffable aspect of their own humanity that makes them grow as people.

As far as the art show itself goes, I found it extraordinary.  Andrew Costi’s paintings, generally of a more abstract nature, mixed very well with Hubert Rietburg’s, which were mostly of tangible objects (e.g. flowers, the Sydney Harbour Bridge).  The evident discovery of the show was Beth Keane, who achieved the extraordinary accomplishment of selling a painting while setting up her display!  Her art, focusing on concepts (particularly to do with parent-child relationships), is worth seeing.

Along with the painters was the photography component, with Blakrok Design’s Dimitri Tsakas and his different take on historic European and Asian landmarks, Trent Everitt’s trees in London, and Clive Morley’s photos that attempted to capture a representation of aura.

In all, another thought-provoking Art Show, showing anyone that visual art truly is a medium that both embodies creativity, and allows other creative types to come together with the perfect atmosphere.

“Spirit: An Art Show by People”, presented by Andrew Costi, is on at the Circle Gallery, 273 Montague Rd, West End until 7 June, from 9-5pm.

Weakness into glory

During the Orthodox liturgical cycle, we find a strange occurrence – on the Sunday between the Ascension and Pentecost, we commemorate the Fathers of the First Ecumenical Council.  That’s not the strange occurrence – rather, the Gospel reading on that day, John 17:1-13, is, perhaps, not what would be expected.

The reading starts with Jesus praying to the Father at the end of the Last Supper. He prays for strength to carry out the will of the Father – that is, that the Son will be glorified by being crucified, so that the Father will be glorified. The resurrection of humanity, the defeat of death, depends on Jesus dying on the Cross.

Jesus prays especially for his disciples. He commends them to the Father as faithful, as knowing that all things are from the Father, and that Jesus was sent by the Father. Jesus explicitly doesn’t pray for the world, but He prays for the ones that have been given to Him by the Father. He prays for them especially because Christ, coming up to His voluntary death on the Cross, will resurrect and ascend to heaven – being bereft of their shepherd, they will need supernatural strength to keep from being destroyed by the evil one. Jesus asks that they be kept in His Name – that is, that they may be kept in the state where they can be representatives, or ambassadors, of God. The Father, being holy, can only delight in doing this.

“None of them was destroyed but the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled” may lead some to believe that Judas somehow had to betray Jesus and be lost, and it is an unfair deity to punish someone for what they were created to do. This is not the case – Judas chose to betray Christ, and the Psalms are quite clear that a traitor will have punishment – thus, fulfilling the Scriptures.

All well and good, of course, but we are in the period between the Resurrection of Christ and the great feast of Pentecost. Why, then, do we read a passage from just before Jesus is about to be crucified while we are still celebrating His Resurrection? This reading is read on the commemoration of the Fathers of the First Ecumenical Council. This is a great and auspicious event in the Church’s calendar, which is appropriate, because the First Ecumenical Council is a truly great moment in the life of the Church.

The early Church, from the first century onward, struggled with incorrect teachings. The Edict of Toleration, issued in Milan, did not serve to rid the Church of heresy, but it did mean that there was a new means of defining Church teachings. In response to the teachings of a priest by the name of Arius the emperor, St Constantine the Great, called a council of all the bishops of the Christian Church. 318 bishops attended the council in Nicaea in 325 – and perhaps we can imagine some of these bishops, who bore testament to their faith by their disfigurement, being almost bemused or waxing philosophical that the same Empire that tortured them was now paying for their transit to the Council and gave them lavish gifts for their diocese on their departure.

This council was opposed to Arius, who taught that Jesus was less than God, and to respond to this, the doctrine of the ‘of one essence’ group, championed by St Athanasios of Alexandria, was taken up, declaring that Jesus was “begotten not made, of one essence with the Father”. A baptismal creed was taken and expanded, and this is where most of our Nicene Creed is from.

The heresy lived on past the council, but compared to other heresies that required the entire Church to be brought together, it did not survive for very long. There are groups who still hold to Arian doctrines, with the Jehovah’s Witnesses, established in the nineteenth century, being the most well known group.

Now what exactly Christ is may seem to be mere pedantry. What does it matter, some might say, if Jesus was of one essence with the Father or if He was just a man adopted at His baptism or if He was just a top bloke? In more than one way, it makes all the difference in the world. If Jesus is not God, He cannot be our Saviour. Man had been trying for millennia to get back into God’s good graces through the Mosaic Law and it hadn’t worked, and the Son of God came to save us.

The First Ecumenical Council did not address whether Jesus was human, nor what relationship His divinity had with His humanity, because this had already been addressed by the Church in the second century, against the Docetists. The humanity or divinity of Christ has grave and direct effects on our theology of salvation, because: if Jesus was not divine, He could not be Saviour; if Jesus was not human, He could not save humanity. “God became man”, as St Athanasios of Alexandria so famously said, “so that man might become divine”, that we might become, by grace, the adopted sons of God.

The Gospel reading of Christ’s prayer at the Last Supper was not placed on this feastday of the Fathers of the First Ecumenical Council arbitrarily. Rather, the two were placed together because one elucidated the other: the reading from John’s Gospel showed the relationship between Jesus and His Father. We see Jesus praying to the Father; equally, we see Jesus saying to the Father to glorify Jesus in the Father’s “own presence with the glory which [He] had with [the Father] before the world was made”, and that the disciples may be kept holy while Jesus goes to the Father. His humanity and His divinity are very ably demonstrated in this passage.

And it goes deeper. The reading is from the Last Supper, immediately before the Crucifixion, where Christ is glorified. His glory is in the Cross. And for us, who bear the name Christians, our glory must be in the Cross. We wear it around our necks, we make its sign upon ourselves; our glory is in our sufferings, for as St Paul says, it is in human weakness that God’s strength is made perfect. The Fathers had a power, not because of their own wonder, but because of their willingness to submit to God, to take up their Cross and follow Him, and God, being glorified, making their weakness into further occasion for God’s glory. And so, being surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, urging us on to fight the good fight and to likewise witness to Christ, we both glorify God and honour their memory by taking up our own cross, with the assurance that we will have treasures in heaven, and hear our Saviour, saying: Come. Follow me.

This is based on a sermon delivered on the Sunday of the Fathers of the First Ecumenical Council, 2008.