Lenten Foolishness

Lent begins for Orthodox believers in a little over a week, with Forgiveness Vespers the night of March 9th. The extent of Orthodox Lenten fasting and services can seem rigorous at first glance. But I suppose it is all how you look at it. We are reminded that Lent is not about giving up anything, but rather, taking on more in the way of spiritual disciplines. It is a time to be quieter, more centered, more focused, if you will.

Orthodox Lent rarely makes the news. Not so with Catholic and Anglican Lent, which fits the more mainstream perception of the season. And every year, some news article quotes someone who just doesn't get it. A good case in point is this story, in which 2 Anglican bishops encourage their flocks to give up carbon instead of chocolate. Oh good grief. One expects this sort of thing from Anglicans these days. In fact, I would be disappointed if Lent rolled around without some such silliness as this from that quarter.

What one doesn't expect is this. The Dutch Catholic charity Vantenaktie is now referring to Lent as "Christian Ramadan." Lord. have. mercy. As I said, one would expect this sort of thing from the British Anglicans, but from a Catholic group? Christian Ramadan? The mind reels.

A spokesman explains:

"The image of the Catholic Lent must be polished. The fact that we use a Muslim term is related to the fact that Ramadan is a better-known concept among young people than Lent," said Vastenaktie Director, Martin Van der Kuil.

Oh, I see. Well, that makes it all okay then.

If memory serves me correctly, Christianity precedes Islam by over six centuries. Therefore, you cannot define or describe the Faith in Islamic terms. It would be akin to describing the Magna Carta in terms of the Declaration of Independence, or describing the battle of Agincourt in terms of the battle of Gettysburg. You can, however, legitimately define Islam in terms of Christianity, Judaism, Zoroastrianism and everything else of which it is a derivative.

I recall my 2006 visit to the Meryamana Kilisesi (Church of the Virgin Mary) in Diyarbakir, Turkey. I wrote about it at the time, here. This city is well off the tourist trail. In fact, it is the only place, in all my visits there, that I ever felt the least bit uncomfortable. Diyarbakir is an ancient city, but the population surged to over a million due to the dislocation of Kurdish villagers during the PKK troubles of the 1990s. The city is considered the epicenter of the Kurdish nationalist movement in Turkey. A heavy military presence guards a sometimes seething population. But the old city is enclosed by ancient Byzantine walls, said to be the longest outside of China. Also, deep within a maze of alleyways and warrens lies the Meryamana Kilisesi.

Hidden behind a protective walled compound, the church dates back to the late 4th century. Three or so Syrian Orthodox Christian families hold out within the compound. The church is one of the oldest in the world. Anyway, my Turkish guide, as well as our driver, joined me for part of the Vespers service there (in Aramaic, no less). They were both surprised to see that we did prostrations in the course of the service. My friend Turan asked me about it afterwards, and I gently chided him a bit by saying, "Of course we do prostrations. Where do you think y'all got the idea?"

All of that is to say that Islam can be seen in light of the Christian and Jewish practices that form the basis for its own practices. In the early years of Islam, it was often viewed as just another Christian heresy. But it cannot, and should not, work the other way around. This is just inexcusable.

Ralph Wood's Orthodoxy

I recently enjoyed reading The Catholic Fantastic of Chesterton and Tolkien, by Dr. Ralph Wood, found here, on the First Things blog. This is a 3-way hook for me. Both authors are favorites of mine, each playing a role in my spiritual maturation and education. Dr. Wood is a scholar I have come to respect and admire, as well.

The article in question is actually a book review of Alison Milbank's Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians: The Fantasy of the Real. Dr. Wood's review is highly laudatory, but as priced (originally $119.24 for a 184-page book!), I am going to just have to take his word for it. I particularly like his summation:

With clarity and wit and verve, she shows that the gift-quality of Tolkien’s and Chesterton’s art is premised on the gift-character of the universe itself. Their work, as she splendidly verifies, has profound moral implications. For in a gift-giving and gift-receiving world, we are not meant to seek our own advantage at the expense of others. Rather we are meant to create gifts—like those presents into which Galadriel has woven her own character before she gives them to the Company—that serve to free their recipients rather than putting them into our debt. Milbank has gifted us with what may well become our finest study of these Catholic artists in their unique relation not only to each other but also to our imagination-starved churches and culture.

I first became acquainted with Dr. Wood in his Flannery O'Connor and the Christ-Haunted South, published in 2004. This book is, quite simply, essential reading. You don't even have to be Southern (but it helps). Dr. Wood is a native of northeast Texas, who in his youth aspired to be a Baptist preacher. His family was too poor to send him to Baylor, so he had to settle for a nearby teacher's college. As Dr. Wood tells it, this turned out to be his salvation. For at this institution he found something he would have never encountered at that Bastion of Baptistocracy on the Brazos, namely, a Catholic professor. [This reminds me of a quotation from W. C. Brann, "the Iconoclast," in reference to the Baylor administration of the early 1900s. He observed that they "couldn't father an original idea if they were hurled bodily into the womb of the Goddess of Wisdom."]

Young Wood's professor opened his eyes to the Catholic literary tradition, and by this I mean Chesterton, Waugh, Percy, Maritain, Gilson and O'Connor, among others. This mentor even arranged for O'Connor to visit the small East Texas campus in 1962, two years before her death. Dr. Wood has made this his life's work, and he is today one of our nation's foremost authorities on Chesterton, Tolkien, Percy and especially, O'Connor. He is a professor of literature and theology at Baylor, introducing his students--Protestants, in the main--to the riches of the Catholic literary tradition.

And yet, Dr. Wood remains true to his roots, a committed Baptist. As one reviewer notes, he is that rarest of birds, a "Catholic Baptist Southern Literary Critic." Dr. Wood maintains a website, here. He links a number of articles and essays. Some are copies of published works, while others are simply short outlines intended for his classes. Such is his "A Brief Introduction to the Orthodox Tradition." It is very basic, intended as an encompassing overview for students. An error or two creeps in, but we won't quibble with that. I find it to be among the best of such summaries I have seen. The entire essay (only 4 pages) is found here.

Dr. Wood:

The largely unrecognized irony is that, despite the common reading of Orthodoxy as merely the Eastern version of Catholicism, Rome and Protestantism have more in common with each other than either does with Orthodoxy.

True.

Dr. Wood identifies 3 major claims the Orthodox make against Roman Catholicism:

1. They refuses to accept primacy of the See of Rome, and Roman additions.

2. They deny that apostolic succession in confined to Rome alone, (Indeed, Wood observes that "the Eastern church has a much better claim to an unbroken chain of the laying on of hands, all the way back to the earliest bishops, including Linus, the first historically-attested bishop of Rome.")

3. They view the Virgin Mary in "maternal terms," and rebut Marian claims that interpret her in "sub-incarnational terms"

He names 4 major claims the Orthodox make against the West, both Catholic and Protestant:

1. God is indeed Trinity, but God is 3 distinct persons or hypostates, not a unipersonal subject who revealed himself in three different ways. Consequently, the Holy Spirit plays a much larger role, for example, in the life of the Eastern than in the Western churches.

2. Salvation is not understood primarily in juridical terms.

3. Thus, they understand the human condition differently. It is our likeness to God which, after the Fall, must be restored. Orthodox thus speak of “ancestral” rather than “original” sin.

4. They view the Christian existence as a lifelong undertaking in theosis—"the divinization of human life by praying and practicing the faith of the Church." .

Finally, Dr. Wood finds 4 distinguishing characteristics of Orthodoxy:

1. Their insistence that Christian faith is not a set of religious ideas but an entire way of life: a life of worship and prayer, of devotion and service.

2. Orthodox inseparably link liturgy and theology. Worship lies at the center of Orthodoxy.

3. Their use of icons in worship and devotion.

4. Orthodox understanding of the Christian life as theosis, the divinizing and deifying of our humanity.

This is hardly the first time these distinctions have been drawn. This favorable analysis from a Baptist scholar, however, is refreshing. When Protestants become Orthodox, family members sometimes remain bewildered and confused by the path their loved-ones have taken. For those in this situation, Dr. Wood's essay would be a good one to copy and leave laying about the house.

Time to Move On, We're Told

The Kosovo aftershocks are playing out much as expected. The U.S. Embassy in Belgrade was torched--unfortunate, but hardly surprising. Bloody-handed pols from the Clinton era (Holbrooke, Cohen, etc.) are huffing and puffing on cue. Tensions are on edge in the fault line city of Mitrovica, see here.

And on top of that, Condeleeza Rice is losing patience with Serbia.

In Washington, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice said it was time for Serbs to accept that Kosovo is no longer theirs. She also suggested it was time to drop centuries of grievance and sentimentality in the Balkans. "We believe that the resolution of Kosovo's status will really, finally, let the Balkans begin to put its terrible history behind it," Dr. Rice said Friday.

Oh, really. Her message to Serbia seems to be something like this: We are America and we know what is best for you. We have divvied-up your country in a manner we think best, and it is high time for you to stop your whining and learn to live with it.

But I have saved the best for last. Rice continues:

"I mean, after all, we're talking about something from 1389 – 1389! It's time to move forward."

With the President out of the country--last seen getting-down, so to speak, with some Liberian tribal dancers--this statement is easily the most inane commentary coming from the Bush administration in recent memory.

The American people have been told that Secretary Rice's expertise lay in the field of Russian--or to be more exact, Soviet Union--studies. Such petulant comments display an appalling ignorance of Slavic history, culture and sensibilities. Beyond that, it dismisses the very thing which defines a people, any people--their shared history.

It's worse than we imagined.

Lord, have mercy.

Remembering Buenos Aires

I didn't watch the debate last night. From all accounts, Obama and Mrs. Clinton comported themselves amicably. The morning paper did mention that she was booed upon attempting to make hay out of that phony plagiarism charge against Obama. This, from a partisan crowd in the most liberal city in Texas. You might say that the firewall has been breached.

Instead, my wife and I attended a production of Evita. What great fun. No, this wasn't exactly Broadway, but the performing arts center at our local university has consistently attracted some pretty impressive touring companies, or least for a community our size.

My only disappointment was not with the play, but in the receptiveness of the audience. Most of the theater-goers were older (old, of course, being anyone older than me). Listening to the conversations during the intermission and afterwards, it dawned on me that this lukewarmness stemmed from a general unfamiliarity with the story. How could anyone of a certain age not know about Juan and Eva Peron? Theirs is one of the great melodramas of the 20th century, involving, along the way, the ruination of a once great nation. Simply put, it is one helluva story.

Film clips of 1940s Buenos Aires served as a backdrop to several of the scenes, which served to put me in fond remembrance of the city. Almost 9 years have passed since I was there. And what a city! First of all, it is very European. In fact, these days it is probably more so than many cities in Europe. You will see no headscarves or burkhas. You will see Italian fashions. Architecturally, Buenos Aires may be one of the most significant cities in the world. There's plenty of soulless, modern ugliness, to be sure. But the greater part of the city was constructed during the first few decades of the 20th century, when Argentina was one of the world's richest countries. The streets are chock-a-block with magnificent, soaring beaux arts and art deco buildings.

My memories of the city came flooding back: the Plaza San Martin, the Cafe Tortino, Casa Rosada, Avenida Pacifica, the flea market at San Telmo, the tango show, the bar at the Plaza Hotel, tea at the Alvear Palace, an Argentine steak supper, the Circulo Militar, the horse races, exquisite Argentine Malbec served in beer-sized bottles with your meal, the taxi drivers, Palermo, the macabre Recoleto Cemetery, the Opera House, our friends Julio and Peter.

Buenos Aires is laid out in the grand style, with many wide avenues (the Avenida 9 de Julio reputedly the widest in the world), but it is definitely a city for walking, and of course, doing what Portenos enjoy most--talking and people-watching. The venue of choice is the coffee shop. It is a rare block that is not anchored with a coffee shop at each end, and perhaps one in the middle for good measure. Many of these establishments were grand art deco affairs, with plate-glass windows along the street, white-jacketed waiters, and even mezzanine seating.

We found countless opportunities to stop and cool our heals a bit, and watch the parade of handsome humanity pass outside our window. Invariably, we would have a cafe con leche and a plate of medialunas ("half-moons," for the Spanish-impaired). These medialunas are small glazed croissants--oh, they were so good!

And that has become my most cherished memory of Buenos Aires--not the tango shows or the architecture, but rather a good cup of coffee, a bit of sweet bread, and a simple savoring of the natural rhythm of life. Political enthusiasms usually come to a bad, or at least a disappointing end, whether it be Evita or Obama. There are more important things. Like a good medialuna.

More Like-mindedness on Kosovo

Larison, here.
Raimondo, here.
Snyder, here.
Trevino, here and here.
Trifkovic, here.

Sunday of the Publican and the Pharisee

Yesterday was the Sunday of the Publican and the Pharisee in the Orthodox liturgical year. A fellow parishioner has some wonderful thoughts on this particular lesson in her blog, Chicken Marm. I highly recommend this site. And be sure and scroll on down. For only here will you be able to read about the "Chicken of the Week." Thanks, Mary.

Kosovo: The Real Clinton Legacy

Well, we knew it was coming. Kosovo has declared independence, with celebrations in Pristina. This is largely a situation of our making. The crowds in the street are waving American flags, alongside their Kosovo flags. They are also carrying signs saying "Thank you, America," and holding up pictures of Bill Clinton.

It seems increasingly obvious that the chances for a Clintonian Restoration are slipping away, and with it, the hope of solidifying and confirming their place in history. Future scholars will give the Clinton years a mixed review, at best. With no second Clinton administration, there will be no "Clinton era" for the history books. But Bill Clinton does have a legacy--if you want to call it that--and it is Kosovo.

Western Europe and the U.S. will fall into line recognizing the new state. Serbia and Russia will protest indignantly, but in the end, nothing much can be done. It will be interesting to see how quickly the "Kosovo principal" will be utilized by each and every separatist group in the world--many of which are uncomfortably close to western Europe and, I might add, the U.S. And when this happens, those of us who love irony can at least relish the sight of Western Europe and the U.S. preaching against the very same medicine they prescribed for Serbia.

The Kosovo story, here.

My Sentiments Exactly

I came across the following, in the combox to a Eunomia post. The contributor, known as Grumpy Old Man, usually has good things to say and his site can be found, here.

My bitter rant of the month:

There’s something deeply hypocritical about a country that took away a third of a neighbor’s territory in war, that went to war when Saddam Hussein did the same thing.

There’s something deeply hypocritical about the one country that used atomic weapons against inhabited cities threatening war because a distant rival might be manufacturing the same type of weapons.

There’s something deeply hypocritical about a country that fought a bloody war to keep eleven states from seceding, abetting secession from the heartland of a distant country three times as old, whose soil is thick with the blood of its martyrs.

There’s something deeply hypocritical about a country that wallows in trade and fiscal deficits preaching austerity and creditworthiness to the poorest nations on earth.

There’s something deeply hypocritical about a country that fancies itself a City on a Hill imagining it is enlightening the world with fast food, gangsta rap, celebriporn, and explosion-and-chase movies.

America, America
God mend thine every flaw!
Confirm thy goal in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!

As if.

The Texas Firewall Primary and Beyond

As I was scanning the local paper this morning, I came across a short announcement (warning?) that on the morrow, former President Bill Clinton will be traveling through our part of the state, stopping even here, in the reddest county of a cat-house red state.


So it has come to this. The Clinton candidacy is in such dire straits that President Clinton is being dispatched to behind the Pine Curtain, to stir up what votes can be had in East Texas. Meanwhile, Mrs. Clinton, or as the television ads call her, Nuestra Amiga, is camping out in South Texas, an area we now learn is her "second home."


We Texans are not averse to attention, but we never thought that our March 4th primary would amount to anything. Now it turns out that we, more specifically our Latinos and white women, are to be Mrs. Clinton's firewall. Well...maybe not. It appears to me that Mrs. Clinton has been swimming against the tide of history for some time now, and I am afraid the waves are about to wash over her. First, Obama seems to have closed the white-woman-voter-gap in the Virginia primary. Second, much is made of her strength in the Latino community, which certainly cannot be discounted. But Texas is not California. Our Hispanic population is long-established and much more integrated, in my view, than in California. Texas (Tejas, if you will) started off Hispanic, and that influence has remained an element of our culture, from the very beginning. The Rio Grande Valley has always been integrated economically and culturally with northern Mexico. When we drive down to the shopping outlet malls between San Antonio and Austin, we meet Mexican shoppers who drive up from Monterey. Our border has always been porous. And the Hispanic voter in Texas is more independent, much less susceptible to control by party bosses. Generalizations made about the Valley simply do not necessarily hold for San Antonio, Houston, Dallas and Austin.



So, Mrs. Clinton may very well carry Texas, but if so, it won't be by much. And in the current dynamics, it won't be enough.


Last weekend, in the nearby Starbucks, 10 or 12 of us were gathered around, having a free-wheeling pontification on what has to be the most exciting political season in almost 50 years. I was struck by several currents of thought. First, there is the ever-present Clinton loathing among some. It is visceral, emotional and irrational. One can certainly make a legitimate case, based on the issues, to be against Mrs. Clinton. But this opposition seems purely personal. To one of this mindset, it is inconceivable that the nation could ever elect Hillary Clinton (a fact I dispute). Some of us tried to suggest that our city is not even representative of Texas, much less the rest of the country. But they were having none of it, provincialism being a tough nut to crack. And yet, these same people were ambivalence towards Barack Obama, who is arguably more liberal than Mrs. Clinton. Some still do not think he can win the nomination--or better put, they don't see how Mrs. Clinton will not win the nomination (another fact I dispute--see above). I observed no hand-wringing over the prospect of an Obama administration. Next, everyone was underwhelmed by McCain--no discernable enthusiam. Finally, I observed an undercurrent that cut across the group--Republicans, Democrats and independents--that is, the desire to punish the current Bush administration. A discussion of the Bush-Cheney years leaves even the rock-ribbed Republicans sputtering and cussing. These observations are obviously just anecdotal. A roundtable discussion at a coffee shop in a medium-sized city in East Texas may mean something. Or it may mean nothing at all.


While I am enjoying the twists and turns of the political season (a guilty pleasure), the end game is not hard to figure out. Here is how I see it:


First, start with these 3 truisms:

• The Democratic Party was only 1 state away from winning the electoral vote in both 2000 and 2004.


• Democrats who voted for Al Gore in 2000 and John Kerry in 2004 will not balk at either Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama. Why should they?


• There is a deep-seated dissatisfaction/anger at the current administration which permeates all regions and parties.

Now, let's do the math. Take a yellow tablet. Draw a line down the middle, making 2 columns. On the left hand column, label it "States that voted Democratic in 2000 and 2004 that are now trending Republican." Go ahead, take you time. Now, on the other column, label it "States that voted Republican in 2000 and 2004 that are now trending Democratic." Use the second page if you have to. You get my point. By all means, enjoy the show, but I have just given away the ending.

Rev. Spikes

My previous post of Joel Osteen was creeping-out some people (myself included), and I received a request to replace it with someone less objectionable. Staying within the realm of religious charlatans, I chose the Reverend Spikes, shown here with Vera Carp, of Greater Tuna fame.

If you are unfamiliar with the Osteenian eloquence of Reverend Spikes, I submit the following, his eulogy of Judge Roscoe Buckner of Tuna, Texas:

I just wanna say, I say I just wanna say a few words, a few words about a friend of mine and a friend of Tuna’s. Roscoe Buckner spent his whole life in service to his community, his country and his Lord. And we’re sure that when the roll is called up yonder, he’ll be there. He was a judge who made hay while the sun shined, but always, I say always let a smile be his umbrella. He always kept his sunny side up and always saw the silver lining behind every cloud. A judge who took no wooden nickels nor threw caution to the wind, but looked before he leapt and never got in over his head. No, he kept his head, when all about him were losin’ theirs and blaming it on him. He kept a stiff upper lip and his nose to the wheel. About this man, we can truly say, he was one of a kind, a jolly good fellow, which nobody can deny. He was one for all and all for one, and to his own self be true. And I can tell you this, he did it his way. He was a serious-minded judge, and let bygones be bygones, but remembered the Alamo. About this man, we can truly say, he was the cream in Tuna’s coffee. He fought fire with fire, and kept the home fires burning. And when he couldn’t stand the heat, he got out of the kitchen. He would walk that extra mile, he would walk it softly and carry a big stick. He was a Pepper, a man’s man, early to bed, early to rise. He laid his cards on the table, gathered at the river, and brought in the sheaves. Hunger was his best pickle. He was a judge who wouldn’t fire until he saw the whites of their eyes, but whistled a happy little tune, praised God, and passed that ammunition. For he had not yet begun to fight. For never ever ever did I hear the man say die…he just did. He was a fine upstanding civil servant, who practiced what he preached, put his best foot forward and his money where his mouth was. And when the going got tough, he was gone…It’s not easy to find words to describe such a man. We commend his soul to you, Lord. I, the Reverend Spikes, recommend him. Amen, Lord. Amen.

The Gospel According to Joel Osteen

Making light of the theological depth of Joel Osteen is akin to shooting fish in a barrel. It is just way too easy. I would never do that. I'll let Chris Lehmann do it, here. A few gems, collected below.

Osteenian theology:

"Even many good, godly people have gotten into a bad habit of slumping and looking down...[Y]ou need to put your shoulders back, hold your head up high, and communicate strength, determination, and confidence."

"get in the habit of smiling on purpose"

"It doesn't please God for us to drag through life like miserable failures," he scolds. The Creator "wants you to succeed; He created you to live abundantly."

"If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be up on it. If God carried a wallet, your photo would be in it."

The Osteen Creed:

"This is my Bible. I am what it says I am. I have what it says I have. I do what it says I can do, I am about to receive the incorruptible, indestructible, ever-living seed of God, and I will never be the same. Never, never, never. I will never be the same. In Jesus' name. Amen."

Lehmann is having none of it.

Mr. Osteen's rigid – and plainly dangerous – nominalist faith sits uncomfortably alongside an obsession with blood heredity, which seems to contradict the notion of a purely spiritual and supernatural health-care plan....an eerily collapsible spiritual narcissism that downgrades the divine image into the job description for a lifestyle concierge.

Head Scarf Ban Lifted in Turkey

I haven't blogged about Turkey in quite some time now, but I have continued to follow events there. Apparently, the "head scarf issue" is still roiling the country. Parliament recently took a step towards lifting the ban on women's head scarves at Turkish universities. Secular Turks are up in arms over the move. As one secular legislator charged, "It will ultimately bring us Hezbollah terror, Alqaeda terror and fundamentalism." Well, this is the sort of hysterical, overblown rhetoric that one would expect from the likes of say...Mitt Romney. But considering Turkey's neighborhood, such concerns are somewhat more understandable. One commentator feared that "it is going to evolve into a ban on uncovered hair."

But such a take on events may be a misreading of what is actually happening. The issue "pits a rising, increasingly wealthy middle class of observant Turks, on one side, against a secular elite, backed by the military and the judiciary, on the other." One scholar concludes, "it's all about power....it's about who gets to decide what Turkey's image and emblematic lifestyle will be. Islam is the lightning rod for all the fears and concerns."

Turkey's booming economy is a great equalizer. On the streets of Istanbul, young women in heans, stylish T-shirts and Keds wear head scarves of all colors. Young observant women are more integrated than ever.

My response is somewhat counterintuitive to the response I would have tend to have in other parts of the Muslim world. For the secularist tradition in Turkey cannot be divorced from Turkish ultra-nationalist. And it is this virulent nationalism that has been most repressive of the Christian minority there. The voices of moderation and tolerance (such as they are), come more from the so-called Islamist parties.

I recall a conversation I had with my friend, Hakan, on my last visit to Istanbul. We were sitting at a small restaurant--4 tables set out in the cobblestone street, for there was no sidewalk--savoring a meal of fish, mezes, melon, flatbread and, of course, raki. I was making the observation that I noticed far fewer head scarves then (June 2007) than I had in 2003 and 2004. I wondered if the whole head scarf thing had been more of a political statement than anything else, and now that Erdogan's party had carried the day and they were in power, there was no longer a need for the "statement." He said that that was exactly the case. For people like Hakan, thoroughly Western in orientation, the AKP party was simply the party of good government and the rising middle class.

I have commented before that I believe Turkey will remain solidly Muslim in character. And it may take its eyes off the West, somewhat, to gaze eastward at their historic Turkic homeland. But they are not looking south, to Mecca.

Read the story, here.

A Good Day

Yesterday was an eventful day for me. I drove to Dallas to attend the annual pre-Lenten retreat. The speaker this year was Elder Zacharias, the disciple of Elder Sophrony, and by extension, St. Silouan the Athonite. He is with the Monastery of St. John the Baptist in Essex, England, and the author of "The Enlargement of the Heart," and the "Hidden Man of the Heart." The best part of the presentation was his answering of questions that were submitted. I listened carefully and took notes. And there is no way, on my part, to do justice to the wisdom he imparted. I have much to ponder.

I also was blessed to attend the baptism of young James in Fort Worth, whose parents are now parishioners at our mission. Along the way, I had the rare treat to visit, face to face, with several blogging friends: Eric (Jacob), David Bryan and Andrea Elizabeth. I wish I could have spent longer with them, but it was a hurried trip, and I am thankful for the time I had.

At Into the Light, I found an interesting post, here, that sets something of the context for my previous post. The article is entitled "There never was a Bible in the Orthodox Church."

Spengler and the "Cult of the Book"

Spengler is always good. I found his article "Yes Romney, there is a Sanity Clause" on a recent visit to his site. This may seem like old news, in light of Romney's withdrawal from the presidential race today. But that is not the real story Spengler is telling. On his way to reaching his main point, Spengler doesn't pussy-foot around with Mormon history or doctrine, to wit:

Voters may reject a candidate whose religious views are crazy, for example, someone who thinks he talks to God. Does Romney believe that he himself will become God, as Mormon doctrine teaches?

Americans express disquiet about Romney's religion; 27% of respondents to the 2007 Pew Center poll held an unfavorable view of Mormons, about the same as of American Muslims (29%), against only 9% for Jews and 14% for Catholics. These numbers suggest that Americans are not as dumb as they look.

Joseph Smith...the Sorcerer's Apprentice of American religion.

Belief in the Book of Mormon is one of the strangest collective delusions in history. The circumstances of its forgery are transparent and exhaustively documented.

According to a recent survey, 99% of the students at the church's Brigham Young University believe that Smith was a prophet, despite overwhelming and authoritative evidence that he was a con man.

But the main point Spengler is raising is not the falsehoods upon which the Mormon edifice rest, but rather, this:

To understand the Mormons we must look below the surface of belief. Why we believe something cannot be separated from what we believe. Judaism and Christianity are founded on an event - the Exodus of the Hebrews from Egypt, and the spiritual Exodus, namely Christ's Resurrection. Mormonism offers quite a different sort of revelation: a book purportedly translated through Smith's top hat. In that respect, Mormonism resembles Islam more than Christianity. As Franz Rosenzweig said of Islam and the Koran, "The book sent down from Heaven - can there be a more complete renunciation of the concept that God Himself descends, and gives Himself to humankind, to reveal Himself? He sits enthroned in His highest heaven and sends humankind - a book."

And then Spengler asks "what attracts people to the cult of the book?" That is a question that has been on my mind of late. I am curious as to why it is so. For the cult of the book is not confined to Mormonism or Islam. As Spengler noted, "why we believe something cannot be separated from what we believe."

I spent a quarter century deep in evangelical American Protestantism. From that perspective, I could never see just how close we came to bibliolatry ourselves. Scripture, or rather our interpretation of it, was the ultimate Authority. From this, we deduced a concept of Christ, a plan of salvation, and fashioned an ideology. But really, it was always all about the book. I remember comments made in bible class about how much more fortunate we were than those First Century Christians, because we had "the Word," meaning of course, the leather-bound variety. It sounded odd, even then. Now, it is almost laughable, if it wasn't so sad. We didn't use words like Incarnation, but it was almost as if Christ's role in giving himself to mankind was really just to bring us the New Testament.

A bit harsh? Perhaps. I don't want to be one to throw stones back at "from whence I came," but this situation intrigues me, particularly when I look at the current state of religion in America. I would be curious to hear the experience/observations of others.

Closest Book Meme

David Bryan, here, has tagged me with the Closest Book Meme. The rules are:

1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

I have never forwarded a chainletter or anything of that nature, so I think I will follows s-p's lead and let the meme die here. But it is fun to play along. If I were home, I would be able to throw out a passage from my Landmark Herodotus. But, I am away from home, in this case, Austin. That means, of course, a mandatory stop at the "Best Little Orthodox Bookstore in Texas," mentioned, earlier. So, my selection is, as follows:

Faith in the Byzantine World, by Mary Cunningham

Finally, Orthodox Christians believed then, and still believe, that God continues to reveal himself to us through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. The ideas expressed in the seven ecumenical councils of the Church, which took place between 325 and 787, may go beyond biblical sources in their formulation of Christian doctrine; nevertheless, this reflects God's continuing involvement in human history and the gradual process of divine revelation. As Gregory Nazianzen argued in the fourth century, some doctrines, such as the divinity of the Spirit, were revealed only gradually since Christ's disciples and their followers were not yet capable of fully understanding them.

Some Recommendations

I am going through something of a dry spell, blogwise, these days. Perhaps it has to do with being busier than usual. I am teaching two night classes this semester, in addition to my regular job. Also, as the political race tightens, I will have less and less to say in that regard, for fear of giving my hand away--something I do not intend to do. But I am enjoying the conversations at several new Orthodox blogs. Chances are, you may have already visited them.

Returning:

Oh Taste and See--back again, in great form, after a blogging sabbatical.

New:

The Path, an evangelical contemplating Orthodoxy, with an interesting perspective.

Pious Fabrications--excellent blog by a young soldier and Catechumen in the Orthodox Church.

Midnight Disciple--a recent convert to Orthodoxy, thoughtful and insightful.

Enjoy.

Fr. Stephen Freeman on Florovsky and the West

Within Orthodox circles, the status of Western converts pops up from time to time on the blogs. Either converts are accused of being "Superorthodox" who somehow attempt to transform themselves into ethnic Russians, or contrarily, of bringing all our baggage along and, in effect, "Protestantizing" Orthodoxy. I have little patience with either accusation. As is usually the case, Fr. Stephen Freeman has the best take on this sort of thing, here.

The following paragraph contains the gist of his argument:

Today, Orthodoxy in America is quickly becoming “native.” Both converts whose roots have always been in the West, as well as the descendants of original diaspora Orthodox becoming “Westernized,” the Orthodox Church in many places in the West today can speak of itself as “Eastern” only as an historical artifact. Its converts have not become “Eastern” in the process of becoming Orthodox - we have not become citizens of a foreign culture. Deeply influenced and immersed in Eastern experience - yes. But I would contend that converts have become to a great extent individual examples of Florovsky’s original proposal. They are now Orthodox Christians who have personally experienced the “western religious tragedy.” As a result of that tragedy they have come to Orthodoxy, but never as a tabula rasa. Every convert who enters the Church brings with them, in some fashion, the inheritance of centuries - problems not of their own creation but inherent to the West and to the modern Western world. To a large extent the problems of the “West” have now become universal problems for the simple reason that Western culture has become the dominant culture of the world. Others have our problems whether they want them or not. As converts within the West or even just Orthodox living in the West the inner encounter between Orthodoxy and Western experience is unavoidable.

The comments are instructive as well.

After Iraq

Remember Iraq? Well, The Atlantic has an intriguing article by Jeffrey Goldberg, here, entitled "After Iraq." He puts a different twist on the ongoing question as to what comes next. And the map on the magazine's cover is a natural hook to geography nerds like myself who used to draw imaginary countries on blank maps.

The article begins with a story from a Kurdish prison. The author was allowed to interview a pyschotic Sunni al-Quada operative. Before all is done, the Kurdish officer in attendance beats the prisoner over the head with a copy of the Koran, and then curses Muhammed's mother.

In the hallway, I asked the interrogator, “Aren’t you Muslim?”
“Of course,” he said.
“But you’re not a big believer in the Koran?”
“The Koran’s OK,” he said. “I don’t have any criticism of Muhammad’s mother. I just say that to get him mad.”
He went on, “The Koran wasn’t written by God, you know. It was written by Arabs. The Arabs were imperialists, and they forced it on us.” This is a common belief among negligibly religious Kurds, of whom there are many millions.

This story clues us into the one factor that is most determinative in the region--its "blood borders." The author notes that five years on, our war's unintended consequences are still accumulating, while its intended consequences are astonishingly brief. One of these unintended consequences may be the questioning of artificial borders, not just in Iraq, but across the region, the "incoherent amalgamations of disparate tribes and territories." For example, Goldberg finds that the real question is not whether there will be 2 states between the Mediterranean and the Jordan, but how many states will there be between the Mediterranean and the Euphrates? Or better yet, the Indus? As Goldberg observes, "All states are man-made. But some are more man-made than others."

Of course, the current turbulence in the Middle East is attributable also to factors beyond the miscalculations of both the hubristic, seat-of-the-pants Bush administration and the hubristic, seat-of-the-pants French and British empires. Among other things, there is the crisis within Islam, a religion whose doctrinal triumphalism...is undermined daily by the global balance of power, with predictable and terrible consequences....But since 9/11, America’s interventions in the region—and especially in Iraq—have exacerbated the tensions there, and have laid bare how artificial, and how tenuously constructed, the current map of the Middle East really is.

A polling of Middle East experts offered nothing but bleak prospects. David Fromkin, respected author of The Peace to End All Peace, grumped “the Middle East has no future.” Military historian Edward Luttwak observed that "the United States could abandon Israel altogether, or embrace the general Arab cause 100 percent...[but] the Arabs will find a new reason to be anti-American.” Ralph Peters noted "It’s not a question about how America wants the map to look; it’s a question of how the map is going to look, whether we like it or not.”

Rather than following the European-drawn borders, he made his map by tracing the region’s “blood borders,” invisible lines that would separate battling ethnic and sectarian groups. He wrote of his map, While the Middle East has far more problems than dysfunctional borders alone—from cultural stagnation through scandalous inequality to deadly religious extremism—the greatest taboo in striving to understand the region’s comprehensive failure isn’t Islam but the awful-but-sacrosanct international boundaries worshipped by our own diplomats.

Goldberg concludes: Americans cannot make Middle Easterners do what is in America’s best interest....A first step in restoring America’s influence in the Middle East is to accept with humility the notion that America—like Britain before it—cannot organize the re­gion according to its own interests.

Good advice, that--but not likely to be taken by the next adminstration, or either party.

Just for fun, Goldberg maps the following possible changes:

Sunni Republic of Iraq

Shiite Islamic State of Iraq

Kurdistan

Turkey (abbreviated)

Greater Azerbaijan (at the expense of Persia)

Greater Syria (so long, Lebanon)

The Alawite Republic (for the House of Asad)

Hezbollahistan

Israel

Islamic Emirate of Gaza

Druzistan

Greater Jordan (West Bank reattached)

Bedouin Autonomous Zone

Sudan

New Sudan (Christian)

Greater Yemen

Islamic Holy State of Al-Hijaz

Arabia

Khuzistan (carved out of Pakistan)

Persia (shifted eastward)

Baluchistan

Pashtunistan

Pakistan

Kashmir

Recent Reads

In recent months, I have resolved to purchase fewer books and read the ones I already have (with mixed results).

The Chronicle of Theophanes, translated by Harry Turtledove.

The monk Theophanes was a Byzantine chronicler (they distinguished between a chronicler and a historian), who wrote of the period of anni mundi 6095-6305, our 602 AD through 813 AD. This was a low ebb for Constantinople--the waning years of the long struggle with the Persians, followed by the rise and sweep of Islam through much of an exhausted Empire, the iconoclastic controversy, the coronation of Charlemagne in the West, etc. Briefly put, things were in a mess. If Byzantium had a "dark age," this was it. Theophanes' account is one of those essential primary source document for the era.

Anthony Powell: A Life, by Michael Barber.

Powell is one of the least-appreciated great novelists. His 12-volume Dance to the Music of Time is in a class by itself. Since 1984, I've read through it 3 or 4 times. His style is cool and detached, as befits a slightly bemused observer. Powell takes a dim view of what passed for "progress" in the 20th century, but never in an angry voice. Unfortunately, he was, as he put it, non-croyant. Even so, there was no greater observer of the tragedy that was the 20th century.

Young Stalin, by Simon Sebag Montefiore.

This was a Christmas gift from my son. The highly-acclaimed biography lives up to its good press. This is generally not the type of history I enjoy, but the book is a real page-turner. Stalin was something of a monster, even from a young age. His legal father was the town drunk, his mother was promiscuous (at least 3 other townsmen were the reputed father of Stalin.) He spent some time in seminary, but this was just a ploy, he was never seriously interested in pursuing the priesthood. He quickly turned to banditry, and then anarchism in the name of Marxism. Amoral and immoral, he never forgot a slight, even decades later. His basic persona remained unchanged, until in time, he was the monster in charge of the largest empire the world has ever seen. One historical "what if" concerns his native Georgia. As the Russian empire was falling apart in 1917, outlying dependencies began declaring independence. Georgia, Azerbaijan and Armenia broke away in 1917 or 1918 as the Trans-Caucasus Republic. Lenin was content to let them go, as he had with Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. But for the up-and-coming Stalin, this was unthinkable. A few years before, he had transformed himself from Georgian to Russian. Just as Hitler felt compelled to incorporate Austria into a Third Reich, a Russified Georgia had to be a part of the new Soviet Empire if Stalin was ever to have legitimacy as a ruler. The troops went in in 1921.

Michael and Natasha: The Life and Love of Michael II, the Last of the Romanov Tsars, by Rosemary and Donald Crawford.

Okay, okay, so this is a bit of a guilty pleasure. I'm a sucker for any Romanov saga that comes along. Michael (Michael II, for you purists) was Grand Duke Michael Alexandreivich, brother of Tsar Nicholas II. And as the Tsarevich Alexis' health was always precarious, Michael was never more distant than 2nd in line for the throne. The last generation of Romanovs in Tsarist Russia hardly inspires confidence in the monarchial principle. Nicholas was a simple, good man, but hardly equipped to be Autocrat of All the Russias. He was totally devoted to Alexandra, who had an increasingly tenuous grasp of reality. Nicholas's cousins were a problem, as well. Few were attached to duty, and most were more interested in making the circuit of European watering holes with their mistresses or morganatic wives. Michael, to Nicholas' consternation, was no different. He insisted on marrying one of the most beautiful women in Russia, a commoner divorced (messily) from two men, one of them Michael's close friend at the time. But the real interest in the book--that makes slogging through all the courtship chapters worthwhile, is its insight into the events of 1917 and 1918. Nicholas could not be forced to take action. Even at the very end of his rule, he dithered and did nothing, when action might have paved the way for a constitutional monarchy under the sympathetic figure of the Tsarevich, as Alexis II. Finally, Nicholas abdicated in favor of Alexis. Then before the day was out, changed his mind and abdicated for himself and Alexis in favor of Michael--hence the "Micheal II," if only for a day. But by this time, things were so muddled, that there was no chance of saving the monarchy, as the government crumbled into chaos. Michael and Natasha remained in Russia, to see how things would turn out. Months passed when they could have easily left the country without incident. Only after the Kerensky government fell and the Bolsheviks seized power did the couple start attempting to leave. But it was too late. Michael was placed under arrest, despite Natasha barging into Lenin's office and demanding his release. In time he was transferred to the Urals, and then shortly to a shallow grave in the woods. Natasha was able to smuggle the children out of the country with the assistance of the Danish embassy. Her own escape through Germany was a close-run thing. As his brother, Michael was another good man, of simple tastes. He was certainly more perceptive and attuned to the temper of the times than his brother, but then, as youngest son, he was never called upon to utilize it.

What I'm reading now:

The Landmark Herodotus: The Histories, edited by Robert B. Strassler

Purchased with the B&N gift card I received from my nephew at Christmas, this is in incredible read! This particular translation is very accessible to the general reader. But as I am only 60 pages into the 850 page tome, it may be a while before I report.

Upcoming:

Nureyev, by Julie Kavanagh.

2008 Georgian Monastery Tour Update

My friend John Graham informs me that the 2008 Georgian Monastery Tour has a new website, here. Though I am not returning to Georgia this year, the thought of doing so is never far from my consciousness.

I consider John and Luarsab Togonidze to be experts on all things Georgian--its rich history, the wine, the incredible topography, the wine, the ancient but vibrant Orthodox churches and monasteries, the wine, the haunting Georgian polyphony, the wine, its supras and cuisine. And did I mention the wine? Touring this magnificent little country with these guys will be a life-changing experience.

Tours are limited to 15, unless of course, you do as I did last year and continually badger John until he agrees to make an extra spot for you. I do not expect the remaining openings to be available for long. Check out the site, and enjoy the photography and travelogues. And if you are contemplating travel a little off the beaten trail this year, by all means, contact John Graham about the tour. You will not regret doing so.

The Dead-Ends of Protestantism

Benedict Seraphim posts an excellent article, here, entitled The Dead-Ends of Protestantism. I found it a thoughtful piece--as his posts generally are--and not as in-your-face as the title might imply. Remarkably, in making his point, he accomplishes a task not often attempted: finding commonalities in the experience of American Churches of Christ and The Episcopal Church.

There is something of a cottage industry among Protestant converts to Orthodoxy. For some reason, we all feel compelled to share our particular "conversion story." This is understandable, human nature being what it is. In all probability, however, our time would be better spent remaining quiet, and learning how to actually be Orthodox, rather than pontificating on how we had "figured it all out." I am struggling to resist that temptation, and Benedict Seraphim's essay certainly does not fall in that category, either.

But something in his title really struck a chord with me, for it puts a name to the unease I once felt, particularly following 9/11. I was no different than anyone else. The events of that day jolted me out of my complacency. But I never viewed the tragedy as random or inexplicable, but merely the latest skirmish in an age-old conflict--dormant, but never dead. In the clarity of that moment, I began to examine our standing in the Protestant West, and more to the point, my particular (and peculiar) variant of it. You might say I found us sadly wanting, ill-equipped and lacking resources to engage in any ideological, philosophical or theological struggle. We were a good fit for the peace and prosperity that Americans had come to expect to be our due, but ill-suited for tackling the long haul of history.

True, we made grand claims for ourselves, as restorationists are want to do. But these claims were never self-evidently so, or at least not to me. The plea rested solely on the intellectual constructs we derived from Scripture. Others made different cases from Scripture. And few people were buying what we were selling.

Inexorably, my readings drifted back to those who took a little longer view of things: Lewis, Chesterton, Newman, O'Connor, Pelikan, and others. I came to see that much of Protestantism either had become, or was in the process of becoming a "dead-end," to use Benedict Seraphim's terminology. [My co-religionists would have argued, "Oh, but we're not Protestant," an argument which has never passed the duck test.] This brings me to the points made in Benedict Seraphim's post. He identifies 3 interrelated areas where Protestantism becomes a dead-end.

First, there is the inherent problem with Sola Scriptura. Those who believe in the concept explicitly might wonder, "What problem?" Simply open your phone book and turn to "churches" in the yellow pages for an answer. He makes the excellent point that scripture is not a series of essays, but rather is addressed to the church, from the church, within the church. And for the first 1500 years or so, its interpretation was found within the context of the Church. Sola Scriptura divorces scripture from the church, excluding it from the context of the church. Despite assumptions to the contrary, he notes that scripture simply does not and cannot come to us uninterpreted.

Second, Benedict Seraphim posits that Protestantism almost always fails to consider church history as a dynamic reality. This is particularly true within our Restoration Movement heritage, whose churches "were shaped and formed by Lockean empiricism, by a form of Enlightenment modernism..."containing "all the blind spots of that modernism: a false belief in progressivism, an o'erweening confidence in human reason, and a certain arrogance toward pre-modern/pre-Enlightenment thinkers." To the restorationist, church history is useful for informational purposes, but not living. He finds that "just as an insect pinned inside a shadow box, this approach to the New Testament Church rendered it nothing move than an intellectual concept, a blueprint or pattern, one birthed or progressivism, rationalism and price, and ultimately little more than a lifeless, dessicated bit of chaff."

Finally, Benedict Seraphim observes what he calls the "ex-ecclesial critique of the Ekklesia." He finds that both the Restoration Movement churches and The Episcopal Church, having divorced themselves from the context and living history of the Church, have turned back upon the church and attempted to criticize it for its perceived sins and failures--i.e., the Churches of Christ reinterpretation of Communion as merely a memorial, while castigating the concept of the "real presence" and The Episcopal Church's ordination of women and redefining "social justice" by contemporary mores. In a telling line, he concludes that "the beginning assumption is that the Church is wrong, except insofar as the Church already agrees with us."

The post is not some triumphalist trashing of Protestantism by an ex-adherent, but rather a cool reflection based on one man's life experience. To the extent that my background overlaps with part of his, I find his insight to be spot on. Anyway, Benedict Seraphim makes some excellent points, and I commend his work.

I Don't Believe I Would Have Said That (cont.)

Asked whether the American commanders on the scene were right in not attacking the Iranian boats, Mr Huckabee said he backed their decisions, before warning Iran: "Be prepared, first, to put your sights on the American vessel. And then be prepared that the next thing you see will be the gates of Hell, because that is exactly what you will see after that."

More silly chest-thumping, here.

Bush in Bethlehem

Now here's something you don't see every day. Read the full story, here. (And thanks again to the ever-vigilent Kirk for spotting this.)

I Don't Believe I Would Have Said That

I am frankly enjoying the spectacle of the 2008 Presidential election. While I couldn't characterize it as a particularly edifying experience, the surprises on both sides of the aisle have made for some lively entertainment. And I know not to put much stock in political rhetorical excess, especially in the days leading up to the New Hampshire primary. But something I read today gave me the chills. The article is "Not So Fast, Clinton Says About Obama Momentum," found here.

She did not spare President Bush in her remarks, either. In Hampton on Sunday night, Mrs. Clinton ribbed Mr. Bush for saying he had looked into the soul of President Vladimir V. Putin. “I could have told him Putin was a K.G.B. agent,” she said. “He has no soul.”

I am no Hillaryphobe. In fact, this may be the first time I have even mentioned her online. I understand the point she was trying to make in referencing George W. Bush's inexperience and naivete, while casting herself as a no-nonsense negotiator, tough and battle-hardened. But this is too much. From a practical standpoint, if she were to be nominated and if she were to be elected, she might have to deal with Vladimir Putin. His only crime, that I can see, is putting his own country's interests ahead of the Bush administration, and of course, being right about so many things he warned against in the lead-up to our invasion of Iraq.

But the real problem with her statement is it's troubling moral and theological implications--not for Putin, but for Mrs. Clinton. As a Christian--which she purports to be--there are certain things that you just don't say about anybody. This is one of them.

Post-caucus miscellaneous

Rudy Giuliana, fulfilling Joe Biden's quip that all his sentences contain just a noun, verb and 9/11, here.

Barack Obama once again deftly turning a Clinton jab into a joke, here.

John McCain redefining "victory" as occupation, here.

Fearless Prognostications!

Well, here we are on the eve of the much-anticipated, or at least much ballyhooed Iowa primary. I have refrained from commenting on American political developments, other than the occasional snide remark about the current administration (Have I mentioned lately that this is, without doubt, the most disastrous Presidency since that of Woodrow Wilson?) I will become even more reticent about my preferences, as the election approaches. Nothing is more polarizing than political partisanship, and I see no need to flaunt my choices on these pages. My wife and I have been married for....well, a long time, and we have never, ever told the other how we voted --not even the party!

That said, here on Thursday afternoon at 5:22 PM before the caucuses open at 7:00, I make the following predictions:

Barack Obama will come out on top in the Iowa caucuses. This will lead to victories in New Hampshire and South Carolina, as well. I think he has correctly read the temper of the times. But, this in no way means that he will necessarily receive the nomination. (I recall a Saturday Night Live skit from late 2000 or early 2001, where the Clintons had to be literally pried out of the White House. You might say there are entitlement issues involved here.)

Mike Huckabee will win for the GOP. What this means is anyone's guess. What it will not mean is that he has a clear shot to the nomination. I can make an excellent case why each of the GOP candidates cannot possibly receive the nomination. I cannot make a case why any of them will. But one of them has to, I suppose.

For political junkies, you can get your fix by checking in at Daniel Larison's Eunomia. He is a Byzantine scholar, frequent contributor to various journals, Orthodox, helluva nice guy, with one of the keenest political insights anywhere.

Fr. Stephen on The Nature of Things

Fr. Stephen Freeman is always good, but this post is exceptional.

An except:

1. It is the nature of things that man does not have a legal problem with God. That is to say, the nature of our problem is not forensic. The universe is not a law-court.

2. It is the nature of things that Christ did not come to make bad men good, but to make dead men live. This is to say that the nature of our problem is not moral but existential or ontological. We have a problem that is rooted in the very nature of our existence, not in our behavior. We behave badly because of a prior problem. Good behavior will not correct the problem.

3. It is the nature of things that human beings were created to live through communion with God. We were not created to live as self-sufficient individuals marked largely by our capacity for choice and decision. To restate this: we are creatures of communion, not creatures of consumption.

By all means, read the article.

The Passing of Hugh Massingberd

I was sad to read today of the passing of Hugh Massingberd, 60, of London. Massingberd was the past president of the Anthony Powell Society, of which I am a charter member. He was a former editor of Burke's Peerage, and the author of dozens of books on the English aristocracy and the great Country Houses of Britain. But most importantly, he was the long-time obituary editor of the Telegraph. Indeed, he single-handedly elevated what many considered to be a journalistic dead-end into a high art form. His own obituary can be found here, and here and here.

A master of understatement, Massingberd was clever, droll, possessed of an encyclopedic memory, sharp-witted but never cruel. And by all accounts, he was a much-beloved man, noted for his abundant generosity. The Telegraph noted that, Hugh knew instinctively that it is our peculiarities - our failings, our embarrassments - that make us who we are. This view of mankind as fallen, but redeemed through eccentricity, ran like a golden thread through all his obituaries...

Part of the fun lay in the style which Massingberd evolved to pin down the specimens on display. Liberace, readers were gravely informed, "never married". Hopeless drunks were "convivial". Total shits "did not suffer fools gladly". Financial fraudsters seemed "not to have upheld the highest ethical standards of the City".

The 1988 obituary of John Allego, a once noted Dead Sea Scrolls scholar, was a case in point. In later years, Allego unfortunately advanced a theory that both Judaism and Christianity were the products of a cult that worshipped both sex and mushrooms. Massingberd pronounced him "the Liberace of biblical scholarship." And on Liberace himself: "The first sign that Liberace had embarked upon a road along which reticence would never ride came when he placed a candelabra on his piano. At this, the dam of discretion appeared to burst: first came a white tail suit, followed by stage patter about his mother and his philosophy of life, then a gold lamé jacket and a diamond-studded tailcoat.”

Indeed, the Times even offers up an abridged Massingberd-English dictionary:

"Convivial": Habitually drunk.

"Did not suffer fools gladly": Monstrously foul-tempered.

"Gave colorful accounts of his exploits": A liar.

"A man of simple tastes": A complete vulgarian.

"A powerful negotiator": A bully.

"Relished the cadences of the English language": An incorrigible windbag.

"Relished physical contact": A sadist.

"An uncompromisingly direct ladies man": A flasher.

I have to admit, reading obituaries is a guilty pleasure of mine. I enjoy scanning the obituary page, whether it be in the New York Times, the Dallas Morning News, or even our local paper. But no one on this side of the Atlantic carries on exactly in the tradition of Massingberd. Of course, outside of the New York Times, obituary-writing is hardly the art form here that it is in England.

On the local level, where the notices are written by the families themselves, the humor one finds is seldom intentional. I have my own theories about how to interpret obituaries. If the obituary gushes about how loving/adoring/precious the family was, then the family may be trying to compensate for their lack of attention during the lately departed's lifetime. If the obituary refers to how much they "loved their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ," then I assume this person was the church busybody.

Referencing hobbies and/or obsessions can be problematic. Saying that the avid golfer is now "playing the fairways of Heaven" is just tacky. I once laughed out loud after reading the obituary of a man who "liked to collect rocks." I collect coffee mugs, in a casual way, but I would hope my survivors have enough taste to leave that little detail out of my obituary.

Also, just because your little great-granddaughter calls you "Pee-Paw," is that really any reason to put it in the obituary? One popular line is: "after a courageous battle with... (fill in the blank)." The way it is always phrased makes it sound as if the person had fought just a little harder they would have actually have vanquished Death. The ones that list pets as survivors are often good for a chuckle. Why are the surviving dogs always chihuahuas? Or why do so many people with chihuahuas die? Could these little yappers actually be the hounds of Hades?

One of my favorite plays is Greater Tuna, which chronicles the goings-on in the "third smallest town in Texas." In one scene, the Rev. Spikes, pastor of the Coweta Baptist Church, is eulogizing a parishioner, pulling out every tired cliche along the way. Wrapping up, Rev. Spikes concludes: "He never said die......And then he did."

Jesus in Turkey

I was recently in my local Barnes and Noble, perusing the magazine aisle. One cover, in particular, grabbed my attention. The magazine was ChristianityToday, and the lead article was entitled Jesus in Turkey, Rebirth of a Bloodied Church. Okay, so there was no way I was going to leave the store without that magazine!

Of course, ChristianityToday is the flagship of American evangelical magazines. I have visited their website from time to time, but have never been interested enough to purchase a magazine, until now. You cannot really object to evangelical bias here. It would be like complaining that your favorite Tex-Mex joint has too many enchilada plates on the menu. It is simply who they are and what they do. And yet, I expected (foolishly, it seems) a little more historical context from this source.

The story covers eight pages. The writer notes that few nations have as rich a Christian heritage as Turkey (something of an understatement)....where Paul (known to some of us as St. Paul) founded some of the earliest churches. The writer gives a nod to the early monastic movement in Cappadocia, mentions in passing the fall of Constantinople in 1453, and then moves on to the really important date in the history of Christianity in Turkey: the beginning of Protestant mission work in 1820.

There are 2 passing references to the Greek Orthodox Church in Turkey, but nothing about the perseverance of Orthodox Christianity after 1453, the exchange of populations and the massacre of 200,000 Orthodox Christians at Smyrna in 1932, the anti-Christian riots of 1955, and the continuing persecution of the Greek remnant in Istanbul. There is a side box story on the Armenian Christians, but the author is careful to not mention that they are Orthodox Christians. In fact, nothing in the story would lead you to believe they worshipped any differently than your local Bible Church.

The story largely concerns Protestant house churches, such as the Istanbul Presbyterian Church, under the dynamic leadership of a Pastor Ucal. This is just fine with me. If Turks are abandoning Allah for Jesus Christ in these evangelical house churches, then Praise God for that! But it irks me that what could have been a blockbuster story is so limited by its own evangelical presuppositions. For these writers work within a historical enclosure, that only begins with the Reformation. They occasionally peer over the wall to look back at the First Century, but the concept of a seamless 2,000 years of continuous Christian presence is lost on them, or unexplainable within their religious framework.

And Speaking of Icons....

This yesterday from the Dallas Morning News on Putin, iconographer Vladimir Grigorenko and The Icon that Wasn't.

The Piercing of Space and Time

Beauty will save the world, Dostoevsky

Susan Cushman, at the First Things blog, posts an excellent article on icons, here. In a wide-ranging essay, Cushman references Dostoevsky, Kandinsky, St. John of Damascus, Fr. Seraphim Rose, John Climacus, John Chryssagvis,and somewhat surprisingly, Henri Nouwen, among others. Nouwen wrote:

...icons...are created for the sole purpose of offering access, through the gate of the visible, to the mystery of the invisible. Icons are painted to lead us into the inner room of prayer and bring us close to the heart of God.

Outside of their Orthodox context, I suspect icons are largely misunderstood. And at least in my part of the country, they are hardly even on the radar screen of our collective consciousness. Many would condemn them as a variation of papist, graven-image idolatry. The less judgmental might appreciate their aesthetic value, as some sort of stilted, quirky religious art, peculiar to the Orthodox. In fact, they are neither.

My religious background was as iconoclastic as could possibly be imagined. We allowed for no images, no stained glass--not even a cross was permitted (though our children's classrooms and literature were chock full of syrupy and saccharine images of Christ and biblical characters--go figure.) Perhaps this stark, clinical rationalism left me starved and hungering for what was missing. I just didn't yet know what it was.

My first exposure to Orthodoxy came on June 6, 2003, when I walked into the Rila Monastery in Bulgaria. I have related this episode before, and I don't want this to turn into yet another self-indulgent convert story. But I actually encountered icons the day before, and that experience is pertinent to the subject at hand.

I was traveling with my friend, Bill (see third previous post). We each had frequent-flyer miles to burn, but were short on cash. Bill and I had to set our sights considerably lower than the Grand Tour. Hence, Bulgaria. We were naturally sympathetic to the country--history has seldom dealt kindly with Bulgaria, whether it be 500 years of Ottoman rule, the disaster of the First World War, followed by the disaster of the Second World War, followed by the disaster of 45 years of communism. Then there was "Good King Boris" who saved the Bulgarian Jews from being shipped to concentration camps (a joint effort, I later learned, with the Orthodox church). Finally, the last tsar, Simeon, had recently returned and won election as Prime Minister of the the country. So, Bulgaria was a bit in the news at the time.

Anyway, we really took to Sofia--just enough faded neo-classical architecture to suit Bill, and just enough down-to-earth grittiness to suit me. The must-see attraction in the city is the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, a magnificent early 20th-century church in the Russian style. This was the first functioning Orthodox church that I entered. It took a bit of getting used to, once inside. The nave was dark and cavernous, lit only by the flickering of candles. In time, my eyes gradually adjusted to the dim light. As my perception increased, the walls became alive with marvelous frescoes, and I eagerly went from one scene to the next, following the story of Man's redemption.

There were actually quite a few people in the church at the time. The structure was so large, however, that it had a sense of being near empty. I began to observe the worshippers--for it was a revelation to me that that was what they were actually doing. The idea that one could, or would, go to a church and worship outside of a "service" was foreign to my Protestant evangelical sensibilities. I observed one young man in particular. He was thin, probably in his mid 20s, standing very still and erect before a mounted icon of the Virgin Mary. He had already lit a candle and placed it in the stand to the right. He just stood there, perfectly still, seemingly for the longest time. Then I watched him as he crossed himself three times, in slow, sweeping movements, bowing low after each time. He then kissed the icon and moved on to another.

Flannery O'Connor observed that grace is never the "warm fuzzy blanket" we want it to be. More often than not, it comes as a knock upside the head--or worse. Certainly nothing quite so severe in this instance, but something was happening as I watched, my attention rivetted to the young man's actions. The logical, rational, "speak where the Bible speaks, be silent where the Bible is silent," restorationist arguments, that I could have once mustered with confidence against such behavior, fell away into meaninglessness. For in the back of my mind, even then, I realized I had just witnessed something of the nature of true worship and devotion. I didn't yet know what to do with it, but that would come "in God's own time." In becoming Orthodox, I obviously struggled with certain things, but never with the veneration of icons.

Again, from Cushman:

Like the Incarnation, the icon pierces space and time, because a physical object—a piece of wood with gesso and paint and gold leaf—is shot through with God’s eternal presence...."iconography does not ‘decorate’ the church but has an organic, liturgical function in the polyphony of the Eucharistic event, existentially elevating us to the hypostatic realization of life.” This is heavenly stuff for us mortals to wrap our minds around, but we all need to be elevated—to be lifted up in order to see the world as God sees it—as sacred and worthy of redemption.

I encourage you to read her article. Her explanation of the theology of icons--particuarly for the non-Orthodox--is as good as any I have read.

This Is What I've Been Looking For

This, by way of my friend, Kirk:

This Christmas night bestowed peace on the whole world;
So let no one threaten;

This is the night of the Most Gentle One — Let no one be cruel;

This is the night of the Humble One — Let no one be proud.

Now is the day of joy – Let us not take revenge;

Now is the day of Good Will — Let us not be mean.

In this Day of Peace — Let us not be conquered by anger.

Today the Bountiful impoverished Himself for our sake;
So, Rich One, invite the poor to Thy table.

Today we receive a Gift for which we did not ask;
So let us give alms to those who implore and beg us.

This present Day cast open the heavenly doors to our prayers;
Let us open our door to those who ask our forgiveness.

Today the Divine Being took upon Himself the seal of our humanity
In order for humanity to be decorated with the Seal of Divinity.

--St. Isaac of Ninevah

Christ is Born! Glorify Him!

Not from Borat Movie

This, from Friday's New York Times:

Kyrgyzstan: On Top of Old Santa

By AP

The authorities say they plan to name one of the country’s snowy peaks Mount Santa Claus. Why such an honor from the predominantly Muslim and former Soviet land? “We want to develop tourism, and Santa Claus is an ideal brand to help us do this,” said Nurhon Tadzhibayeva, a tourism official.

Bass on Charlie

My other great friend of longstanding, is Bill Bass, a former attorney, legislator and appeals court judge. If this sounds a bit stuffy, then know that he is a one-time victim of the notorious White Rock Lake "Love Bandit," was known to his college pals as the "Crockett Rocket," sometime known to others as "One-Beer Bass," was fished out of the Colorado River by Ann Richards, survived an assassination hit on him by the "Canton, Texas Mafia" and found himself holed-up in an underground bunker during the siege and bombing of Vukovar during the Serbo-Croatian war--and that's just for starters.

Bill, in turn, is one of the oldest friends of Charlie Wilson, who is, of course, the subject of highly acclaimed Charlie Wilson's War by George Crile, as well the just released Tom Hanks film. My only connection is that Bill surprised me with an autographed copy of the book when it was first released.

Anyway, the headlines in today's Dallas Morning News showcases the movie, and more importantly, Charlie Wilson. Bill was invited by the News to an advanced screening, and is quoted extensively in the piece, here.

Bill Bass, a state appeals court judge from Tyler, is sitting in a dark theater, having just watched Charlie Wilson's War. As the credits roll, he wants to speak but can't. He's crying.

The real Charlie Wilson is one of Judge Bass' dearest friends. To see him portrayed by Oscar-winning actor Tom Hanks has reduced him to tears.

"I was very moved by it," he says. "I remember Charlie's efforts, and his efforts did change the world. Charlie is one of a handful of people who made a difference in the history of the 20th century. ... I'm so proud to have known him."

From 20 years of friendship with Bill, I have heard a lot of Charlie Wilson stories, and feel I know him a bit, as well--even though we've never met. A political career such as Wilson's--honest, passionate, devoid of cant--is a rarity, particularly in today's climate. I look forward to seeing the movie depiction.

For Judge Bass, the movie's legacy will be its "accurate depiction of a very good man, warts and all."

He loves the scenes that show the interior of Mr. Wilson's Arlington, Va., apartment, "where Charlie loved looking down on the Marine Corps monument. He was a true patriot. He loved women and whiskey, but he was like his idol, Winston Churchill.

"As Charlie always said, Winston Churchill won the Nobel Prize for literature. He was in the last cavalry charge in modern history. He was a great writer who, in his spare time, managed to save Western civilization," Judge Bass says.

"But then Charlie would look you in the eye and say, 'And he still drank, didn't he?' And, of course, he did. What both men have in common is greatness and the fact that each made a lasting imprint on history."

Of course, for those who are too young to remember, Charlie Wilson was instrumental---crucial, really--in supplying arms to the mujaheddin in Afghanistan, fighting the Russian Communist occupation during the 1980s. It seemed like a noble endevour (they all do at the time), and its success played no small part in the fall of Communism itself. The rest, as they say, is history. But events of the 21st century certainly show how the chickens of our foreign adventurism have come home to roost. But Wilson does not see a straight line connection between the fall of the Russians in Afghanistan and the rise of the Taliban there.

"No one had heard of the Taliban," he says. "They didn't exist until 11 years after the Russians were defeated. What happened was, by not pursuing the end game as we should have, we let chaos develop in Afghanistan. I tried hard to pull the other way, but my colleagues were tired of listening to me."

All Too True