Clarion: Journal of Spirituality and Justice

Friend of Foe: Orthodox Christianity and Historical Criticism - Philip Maikkula

This morning I was listening to an excellent interview with Dr. Brad Jersak on The Bible for Normal People Podcast. Towards the end of the interview, Dr. Peter Enns asked Brad how Orthodox Christians relate to the tools of Modern Historical Criticism. In short, are historical-critical methodologies valuable, useful, wrong or otherwise?

Brad’s answer focused on his experience with his spiritual father and he admitted that he wasn’t sure the Orthodox are producing historical-critical research, but in his experience, the Orthodox are reading and usefully engaging that research. In many ways, I agree with Brad’s assessment, but I wanted to nuance his perspective a bit and look at some of the factor influencing the relationship between Orthodox Christianity and historical criticism.

1. The Orthodox Church is Diverse.

The Orthodox Church is not monolithic. She is comprised of a family of churches including not only historic Orthodox jurisdictions like the Ecumenical Patriarch in Constantinople or the Churches of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, but also Churches delineated according to the boundaries of modern nation-states, such as the Churches of Russia, Greece, Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia, Georgia, Cyprus, Albania, Poland, and the Czech Lands and Slovakia. On top of this, there are Orthodox Churches of the so-called “Diaspora” in North America, Europe, and Australia among other places. While these Churches share a common worship and faith (Orthodoxy can mean both right belief and right worship), we must recognize that the Orthodox Church is diverse. There are questions where opinions differ.

2. The line between those who accept “critical” scholarship and those who reject it runs through every religious body.

We cannot delineate those who accept “critical” scholarship and those who reject it simply according to religious denomination. In every denomination, people differ on this question, even in those Churches where there are official teaching positions on the value of critical scholarship.

3. The Orthodox has no official position on historical-critical scholarship.

As perhaps both a blessing and a curse, the Orthodox Church doesn’t have an official teaching office like the Roman Catholic Magisterium. This leaves many questions that do not directly bear upon the Dogma of the Church up for debate among the faithful. For Orthodox Christians in the United States, there are some who engage modern historical-critical methodologies and some who decry it as unhelpful, unnecessary or even un-Christian and heretical. My own Alma Mater, St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary, values and teaches a critical engagement with the Orthodox tradition which includes, among other hermeneutical approaches, the reading of Scripture through the lens of historical-critical methodologies. Other seminaries might not see a value in the historical-critical method. I know at least one faculty member at another Orthodox seminary in America who rejects the use of historical-critical methodology outright, preferring to simply read the Church Fathers. Both positions exist in the Orthodox Church.

4. The Orthodox Church is just beginning to answer the questions of Modernism.

Roman Catholics began to face the questions of Modernism well over a century ago, with the Vatican ultimately approving the use of historical-critical methodologies in the middle of the 20th century. Yet the triumph of critical methods was not always a smooth road. Roman Catholics were initially on the cutting edge of modern biblical scholarship in the late 19^thCentury when French Dominicans established a school of archeology and biblical research in Jerusalem, known as the École biblique et archéologique française de Jérusalem. Yet, in the early 20^th Century, the Roman Catholic Church entered a period of anti-modernism. Pope Pius X, published the encyclical, Pascendi dominici gregis, which condemned, among other things, “rationalist” interpretations of scripture, resulting in a great freeze on the freedom of Catholic biblical scholars. It wasn’t until the publications of Divino afflante Spiritu, in 1943, and Dei Verbum, at the 2^ndVatican council, that the historical-critical method was given official sanction by the Catholic Church. Together these documents opened the door to the great flourishing of Catholic biblical scholarship seen in the second half of the 20^thCentury—perhaps best exemplified by the towering figure of Fr. Raymond Brown.

The Orthodox Church has largely been shielded from the questions of Modernism, either because of Turkish domination or the rise of communism. As a result, much of the Orthodox world has only recently begun to face the problematics presented by modernism. In my own view, this has given rise to our own brand anti-modernism within the Orthodox Church. The increasingly widespread rise of neo-traditionalism is best explained as a reactionary response to the challenges modernism presents. Increasingly, the Orthodox Church is going to have to wrestle with these questions as globalization brings the challenges of modernism home to roost for more and more Orthodox Christians.

5. The Orthodox Church both uses and produces historical-critical research.

While it is true that the Orthodox tradition provides many valuable scriptural resources beyond the scope of historical-critical research, it is simply false to claim that the Orthodox Church doesn’t produce any historical-critical scholarship. I think a big reason for this misunderstanding is because the Orthodox Churches in the English speaking world haven’t produced a great number of prominent biblical scholars. The Orthodox tend to be known for Patristic scholarship or liturgical theology, but not biblical studies. We are small and thus we don’t have a large voice. Yet, there are many Orthodox biblical scholars who do engage in thoughtful and positive research with the help of historical-critical methodologies. For instance:

Fr. Eugen Pentiuc is a well-established scholar of the Hebrew Bible and professor at Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology. Fr. Eugen has published several monographs which engage both historical-critical methodologies and patristic interpretations of the scriptures (see: The Old Testament in Eastern Orthodox Tradition, Jesus the Messiah in the Hebrew Bible, and Long Suffering Love: A Commentary on Hosea with Patristic Annotations).

Fr. George Parsenios is a respected Johannine scholar and associate professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary. Fr. George has written, among other things, a commentary on the Johannine epistles, as well as two academic works on rhetoric in the Gospel of John (see: Rhetoric and Drama in the Johannine Lawsuit Motif, Departure and Consolation: The Johannine Farewell Discourses in Light of Greco-Roman Literature). 

That just names two Orthodox scholars who are currently fruitfully engaging with historical-critical methodologies in the English speaking world. More could be named such as the now-retired professors Fr. Theodore Stylianopoulos, Fr. John Breck, or Fr. Paul Tarazi. The list would be enlarged even further if we broaden our scope to include Orthodox countries like Greece or Romania where many of the professors in the faculties of theology were trained in German universities in modern historical-critical methodologies. For Orthodox biblical scholars, there is little debate about the usefulness of these methodologies.

6. Debate still exists on how to best incorporate modern methodologies with the Orthodox Church’s rich history.

In my view, the biggest debate facing the Orthodox Church is how to incorporate these modern historical methodologies into the life of the Church in a way that is fruitful for research, yet respectful of our interpretive history. I would want to see an Orthodox hermeneutic that was big enough to encompass both ancient and modern readings of scripture. The Fathers of the Church offer invaluable insights into the text, and it would be impossible to reject their interpretation of scripture and still remain Orthodox. We have to find a way to live in both worlds. We must find a way of reading the scriptures that is both faithful to our past and yet faithful to our present. We need a reading of scripture that can hold together the best insights of the ancient and the modern world. Articulating such a hermeneutic of double fidelity will require a great deal of courage and creativity. I believe that is exactly what the Church Fathers themselves would do were they in our situation. The Church Fathers always engaged the best of the intellectual life of their time while remaining faithful to the Gospel. We must do the same.

* * * * * 

Deacon Philip Maikkula is attached to St. John of the Ladder Orthodox Church in Greenville, SC. He has been married to his wife Whitney for eight years and together they have two children. Deacon Philip holds a BA in Philosophy from the University of Central Florida and a Master of Divinity from St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary. He is currently completing the graduate certificate in religion, peace, and justice from the Institute for Religion, Peace, and Justice at St. Stephen’s University.

Does choosing faith make it less valuable? - Sarah Van Diest

I am in a constant need of saving. There is often a longing in me to step outside of the “things I know,” as in the way the Bible explains God and man, etc., and look at the plainer truth of what I see. When I study cultures, religions, and the histories of man I see many stories being told, often similar to our own.  I very much want the God of the Bible to cover my questions, doubts, and skepticism with himself; answering them all with his person. And he does, when I allow him to do so.

It is that small action of my own acquiescence that bothers my soul. Not that I do it, nor that I want to do it, but that it makes the difference. Why does it have to be that in order for me to experience the awe of an awesome God that I must submit to it? And why do I wish instead that it would overwhelm me? That his greatness would knock me off my proverbial feet and lay me flat on the ground in profound humility? Why must it be a choice? If it is defiance in me that causes me to struggle, then I am ashamed. If it is pride, also ashamed. If it is a lack of gratitude or self-righteousness, ashamed again. But must it be my own sin, my own fault, my own eyes which blind me from seeing his greatness, if it is indeed so great?

When I step into the circle of our familiar Christian stories and the music of scripture plays in my mind, repeating the truths I love, then I see once again. The God of the universe sits majestically on his throne and all that exists does so in such a way, in such harmony, that it can only be God who orchestrates it all. But one step outside the circle, one moment in my “other mind,” and that holy image disappears, blending in with all the other stories mankind has created throughout time.

As man worked to understand life and death, creation, and relationships, he made for himself stories to soothe his mind. Standing in his circle of stories he sees how they all come together and form an explanation for how we came to be and what will become of us. He has faith in his stories and he finds great comfort there. But what happens if he steps out of his circle, and looks at it from a distant vantage point? He may see it for the created structure it is. He may see other circles created by other minds, cultures, and religions and begin to wonder what stories he has not heard. He may wonder if his are not as true as he thought they were. His wondering, his questioning, could be endless and anxiety may rule his mind if he does not choose a circle to live in.

But perhaps if he climbs a very high mountain and looks down at all the circles below, he may once again find a thought that soothes his mind. Perhaps on the peak, he will begin to see something new. The circles look so much alike from so high a vantage point, each with its stories and structures, each with its explanations to bring calm to anxious minds. And there are so many circles, stretching out as far as he can see. Could it be that their consistency is the evidence he hopes for? Could the circles, in their similarity and volume, be evidence of pervasive truth? Could their cohesiveness be an indication of a greater structure-maker? Could it be this:  “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse” (Rom. 1:20)?

Reality remains what it is regardless of man’s explanation of it. It is merely his experience which is altered by his chosen explanation. The story of Yahweh may be the one reality, the one story, the one great circle. The Father of Jesus may be the great structure-maker. I hope he is. My heart longs for what I believe to be true. But I cannot know. Faith is the confidence of things hoped for, but it is not the thing itself. When I stand in praise of the Father of life, I stand in faith and in hope, and nothing more. The love I have for him is based on my desire that he really is who he claims to be and truly does love each one of us. I hope for his love and seem to experience it when I accept it. What more could I ask?

Does choosing faith make it less valuable? Is there somehow inherently greater worth in the verifiable? How vacant that sounds! How sorrowful that feels! If only that which we can prove has worth, then we are all bankrupt. We are left only with the perishable and the temporal to comfort our minds. The irony sits heavily on my chest. The concrete aspects of this world are hevel, vapor, doomed to decay, while the ethereal remain untouched and unaltered. If choosing faith means finding God, then I choose faith. I do not wish to walk this world alone.

Peace and Joy; Fear and Anger - Peri Zahnd

Peace and Joy; Fear and Anger

Peace and joy are the default emotional statuses of the flourishing human being, where we are intended to live in communion with God and other people.  But there are other God-given emotional states that alert us to danger and injustice, when something is not quite right in our world—the emotions of fear and anger. Fear and anger interrupt our equilibrium—they trigger our defenses and ready us for fight-or-flight.  They are intended as short-term motivators for change.  We were never intended to live indefinitely in these states, and doing so can cause serious damage to our souls.

Unfortunately, there is no shortage of fear and anger in the current climate of American Christianity, and it’s unrelenting. And while this is a generalization, it does seem that the Religious Right is mainly motivated by fear, while the Religious Left is mainly motivated by anger.  It’s important to consider this and the implications of each.

The Religious Right, who label themselves conservatives, wanting to conserve the status quo or even return to what they perceive as the past, experience fear in two very distinct ways.  First, they fear a God they perceive as angry, who takes personal offense at the sins of the world and whom they must appease in order to avoid being horribly punished.  I used to believe that God was that way, but through a long journey have come to know him very differently.  I have come to know that God is like Jesus, kind and loving and self-sacrificing to the point of death, and that Jesus came to show us what God is really like.

Carla D. Sunberg's, "The Cappadocian Mothers" - review by Ron Dart

Carla D. Sunberg, The Cappadocian Mothers: Deification Exemplified in the Writings of Basil, Gregory and Gregory (Pickwick Publications, 2017).                               

Every student of Christian theology, even if only a dilettante, has heard of the Cappadocian Fathers. But who were the Cappadocian Mothers? Thomas Noble

There has been a desperate need, for many a longing decade, to bring to the fore the immense contributions of the mothers and sisters of the classical Cappadocian theologians (certainly some of the most sophisticated and nuanced in the history of Christian contemplative theology). The sheer beauty and bounty of The Cappadocian Mothers is the way Carla Sunberg has woven together, in the finest of a tapestry, the insights and layered ways of thinking and living the faith journey and impact on their immediate and extended families (each who articulated a mature theology). The way Sunberg, rightly and legitimately so, connects the needful dots between theology and deification makes this primer of a book a must purchase and worthy of multiple meditative reads.

The Cappadocian Mothers has 9 compact chapters and the “Foreward” by T.A. Noble makes for a lovely pointer into the content of the book. Each of the chapters have much solid information packed into their few yet inviting chapters: 1) Introduction, 2) The Christianization of Deification, 3) Christocentric Development, 4) The Development of Monasticism and the Role of Virginity in the Cappadocian Understanding of Theosis, 5) The Fallen Virgin, 6) Married Women as the New Eve: Nonna and Gorgonia, 7) Macrina, The Perfect Virgin Bride, 8) Practical Implications for Life and Ministry: Macrina the Elder, Emmelia, and Theosebia and 10) The Mothers Exemplify Deification. 

Each of these incisive and finely tuned chapters walks the inquisitive reader into the wisdom and contemplative way of the past (and its deification ending) and the role significant women (Nonna, Gorgonia, Macrina the Elder and Younger, Emmelia, and Theosebia) played in shaping, deepening and enriching the theological visions and conclusion of their siblings and children. There is, of course, something perennial about the Cappadocian Mothers-Fathers and the unique way they lived and thought through their faith pilgrimages. Needless to say, as substantive questions are being raised about the limitations of modern and postmodern approaches to our all too human journey, the fullness of the classical way is being brought to the fore once again. The post-reformation tendency has been either to caricature the classical past or ignore it--such approaches now seem thin and vapid, not worthy of serious consideration. This means there is a turn to the classical tradition of Christianity, and, in such a turn, we cannot miss the nuanced approach of the mothers and sisters of the Cappadocian contemplative theologians. In short, and sum, The Cappadocian Mothers reveals much that has been concealed by inadequate and superficial reads of Western and Christian history--do read and inwardly digest this bounty and beauty of a key in the ignition classic in the making of sorts--a fullness of the faith will definitely be birthed in the process.

Ron Dart  

"An Adaptation of the Parable of the Lost Sheep (Luke 15:1–7)" – Anonymous

1. Now the black community was coming near to Jesus to listen to Him and seek his justice on their behalf. 2. But the white privileged folks began to grumble, saying, “All lives matter.”

3. So Jesus told them this parable, saying, 4. “What man among you, if there are a hundred houses standing on a street and one of them is on fire, does not leave the ninety-nine houses alone on the street and fights the fire of the house that’s engulfed in flames until the fire is extinguished? 5. When he has put the fire out, he stands there exhausted, but rejoicing. 6. And when he rebuilds his house, he calls together his friends and his neighbors for a house-warming party, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have rebuilt my house which had burned down!’ 7. I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one black person who receives justice than over ninety-nine privileged folks who need no justice."

“We celebrate the slaying of death …” - Elder Porphyrios

The Elder Porphyrios once asked a pilgrim visiting him:

— Do you know the troparion that begins, “We celebrate the slaying of death …”?

— Yes, elder, I know it.

— Then say it.

—“We celebrate the slaying of death, the destroying of hell, the beginning of another way of life that is eternal. And leaping for joy, we sing a hymn to the Cause, the only blessed and most glorious God of our fathers.”

—Do you understand it?

—Certainly I understand it. I thought that he was asking me for a translation into modern Greek. The Elder then waved his hand dismissively saying,

— Little George, you didn’t understand anything at all! You said it quickly like a chanter in a hurry. Listen to what awesome things are said in this hymn: Through Christ and His resurrection, we do not get across a river, a gorge, a canal, a lake, or even the Red Sea. We have moved across an abyss that no human being could cross on his own. Ages came and went with the world waiting for this Pascha, for this passage. Our Christ passed from death to life! That’s why today “we celebrate the slaying of death, the destroying of hell.” Death is no more. We celebrate today “the beginning of another way of life that is eternal,” a life with Him.

Speaking with enthusiasm and conviction, the Elder was clearly moved. The elder paused and continued more energetically:

— Now there is no more chaos, no more death, no more slaying, no more Hell. Now everything is joy, thanks to the resurrection of our Christ. Human nature is resurrected with Him. Now we too can rise again that we might live with Him eternally … What bliss is contained in the Resurrection! “And leaping for joy, we sing a hymn to the Cause.” Have you seen how young goats now in the spring frolic on the green grass? They drink some of their mother’s milk and then prance about leaping for joy, and so do we celebrating the ineffable joy of the resurrection of our Lord. He then stopped speaking. Pure joy was now in the air. And the elder continued,

—Can I give you some advice? In every sorrow, with every failure, in anything that causes you pain, collect yourself for half a minute and slowly say this hymn. Then, you will see that the most important thing in your life and in the life of the entire universe has already been accomplished with the resurrection of Christ. It is our salvation. And then, you realize that all our setbacks are so insignificant, that you don’t need to allow them to spoil your mood.

— St. Porphyrios, Wounded by Love