The Fall of Man and the Neolithic Revolution

I posted this to the Faith and Theology blog's discussion of sin. It sums up ideas I've been working on for several years but never shared with anyone until about a month ago. It doesn't seem to be drawing any responses in its original context, so I'm re-posting it here in a slightly edited form.


I do not think the fall was a matter of mere disobedience. This would suggest that had Adam transgressed any arbitrary command of God it would have had the same effect. Rather, I think the nature of the fall must be found in the particular transgression – eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

Until the fall, Adam and Eve were naive creatures living in paradise in accordance with their God-given nature (very good, created in the image and likeness of God). Upon eating the fruit, their eyes were opened. At this point, they began to substitute their own judgment, in accordance with their perceived, calculated interests, for the unconscious operation from their God-given nature.

I think the story of Genesis 2-4 can be tied loosely to a real, though not exactly historic (it was more prehistoric) setting. Scholars locate Eden in what is now northern Iraq, southeastern Turkey, or northwestern Iran. This was, not coincidentally, an early locus of the Neolithic Revolution – the shift from the hunter-gatherer mode of subsistence to the more "advanced" lifestyles of agriculture and herding (represented by Cain and Abel).

Evolution suited mankind to be hunter-gatherers – that is our nature. When humans began to manipulate their environments for survival advantages (more for groups than for individuals, as it turned out), they were on their way to adopting new lifestyles at odds with their hunter-gatherer nature.

So Adam and Eve, through their own choices, were forced out of the easy, natural, naive life of Eden, and they had to start working for their living. This complicated their relationships with God, one another, and all of Creation. To the extent that there was a fall within human history, I think this was it, and Genesis records it.

Now I don't really think Genesis 2-4 is about the Neolithic Revolution any more than I think Genesis 12-35 is about the nomadic herding culture of the early second millennium BC. The authors of Genesis were not recording history as an end in itself. But the ancient oral tales on which they based Genesis embodied memories of real settings as the background of their stories.

It would be simplistic to attribute the entire state of human fallenness to the abandonment of hunter-gatherer ways. But this was the "event" that, more than any other, set mankind on a new trajectory that has led to alienation from God, our fellow creatures, and our own nature. It is, then, not surprising that the author of Genesis 2-4 would set the story of the fall of man in that time and place.

Worship and Works

The current issue of Washington Window, the monthly newpaper of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington, includes a feature article on the Grate Patrol, a ministry of my old parish, St. Paul's, K Street. Every Saturday and Sunday, early in the morning, members and friends of St. Paul's distribute over 200 meals to homeless people on the streets of Washington, DC.

This sort of ministry is very much in keeping with Anglo-Catholic tradition. A religion rooted in the Incarnation cannot minister only to spiritual need while neglecting more worldly needs – or vice versa. The second generation of Anglo-Catholic priests in England often found themselves assigned to slum parishes by unsympathetic Protestant-minded bishops. So they made the best of it, and it turned out to be a pretty good fit. An elaborate liturgy in a beautiful church was a bright spot in otherwise drab working-class lives. And these priests worked to meet the needs of their parishioners by sponsoring basic education and distribution of charity, among other ministries.

Anglo-Catholics have often been criticized for maintaining this combination of worship and works. The religious and political establishments feared the implications of raising the expectations of the lower classes and empowering them to act. Reform-minded liberals, meanwhile, deplored the wasting of time and resources on worship and church maintenance. But to anyone who has participated in the Anglo-Catholic life, it is obvious that the liturgical life of the Church is the source of motivation and empowerment for ministry, while ministry is the necessary response to the encounter with God in worship. Worship and ministry are inseparable.

When Jesus was staying in Bethany a few days before the Passover, a woman from among his followers anointed him with expensive, fragrant ointment. Some reproached her, saying, "This ointment might have been sold for more than three hundred denarii, and given to the poor." But Jesus defended her: "She has done a beautiful thing for me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you will, you can do good to them; but you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burying." (Mark 14:3-9; John 12:1-8)

For those who love Jesus, there can be no conflict between worshiping him extravagantly and serving him in the persons of the poor. (Matt. 25:40)

The Return of Judas

This week saw the publication of the new book by Elaine Pagels and Karen L. King, Reading Judas: The Gospel of Judas and the Shaping of Christianity. With predictable regularity, the media are revving up their annual round of sensationalistic stories calling into question the foundations of Christianity, just as we head into the holiest time of the year. Last year it was the last hurrah of The Da Vinci Code, combined with the unveiling of The Gospel of Judas. This year Judas is back, together with The Jesus Family Tomb.

In National Geographic's article on the Gospel of Judas, Stefan Lovgren wrote:

In the key passage Jesus tells Judas, "‘you will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.'"

Kasser, the translation-project leader, offers an interpretation: "Jesus says it is necessary for someone to free him finally from his human body, and he prefers that this liberation be done by a friend rather than by an enemy."

This is indeed the key passage. It shows just how radically different is the Gnosticism of the Judas author from Christianity. The Gnostics believed that the material world was evil and the body was a prison from which the soul must be freed. Christianity, by contrast, affirms the goodness of material creation, as well as the essential unity of body and soul.

This passage from the Gospel of Judas reminds me of the Heaven's Gate UFO cult, which committed suicide en masse in 1997 to depart their bodies and "progress to the next level." The cult's leader said that human bodies are only "the temporary containers of the soul . . . The final act of metamorphosis or separation from the human kingdom is the ‘disconnect' or separation from the human physical container or body in order to be released from the human environment." More info on Heaven's Gate can be found here.

Not all Gnostic sects were as weird as UFO suicide cults, but many of them were. A sect that read the Gospel of Judas and then asked, "What would Jesus do?" might very well go the way of Heaven's Gate.

Old E-mail

Before I started this blog, most of my research and debate, theological and otherwise, took the form of e-mail, some to lists, some to individual correspondents or small groups of friends. Beginning with this post on the Second Council of Orange, I will dredge up some of my more interesting e-mails and post them here. I will backdate them to the date when I originally wrote them, so they won't show up at the top of page 1.

Most Holy Theotokos, Save Us

In recent years, my primary formal role at St. Paul's was as the official proponent, instigator, and organizer of Marian devotion. I was secretary of both the parish ward of the Society of Mary and the parish cell of the Society of Our Lady of Walsingham. In the former role I organized the monthly meeting of the Society of Mary. On the third Saturday of the month, after Morning Prayer at 9:15 and Low Mass at 9:30, we would recite a Scriptural Rosary at the Lady Altar and then gather in the Common Room (or later the Guild Room) for brunch. Occasionally I would give a short talk or invite a speaker. Whenever I could not get a volunteer to lead the Rosary or provide brunch, I would do it myself.

In addition, I spent a lot of time on my knees at the Lady Altar. I went through a period where I found it difficult to engage in intercessory prayer except at places dedicated to Mary, so I got into the habit of always praying here and at other shrines of Our Lady, such as the Guadalupe Shrine at St. Luke's, Bladensburg.

As with most things in Anglo-Catholicism, Marian devotion requires a high degree of intentionality. It's not something you will find in most parishes of the Episcopal Church, and even in an Anglo-Catholic parish you might have to look for it. This points to one of the major differences I have found in Eastern Orthodoxy.

In the Orthodox Church, all of the things that Anglo-Catholics have had to work so hard to establish and maintain are just part of the base package, not optional extras. If you participate in any service at any Orthodox Church you're going to commemorate and request the intercession of "our all-holy, pure, most blessed, and glorious Lady Theotokos and Ever-Virgin Mary."

Theotokos is Mary's dogmatic title, which is most often translated as Mother of God, but might be rendered more precisely as Birthgiver of God or Godbearer. In honoring Mary as Theotokos we acknowledge both that her son is God and that he was born of a human mother, thus affirming the Church's teaching that Jesus is fully divine and fully human and that the divinity and humanity are perfectly joined in him. Those who refused to honor Mary as Theotokos were judged not to share the Church's understanding of the Incarnation, and they were excommunicated at the Council of Ephesus in AD 431. Conversely, my own devotion to Mary is tied closely to my commitment to the centrality of Christ's Incarnation.

Obviously, I am glad to be in a church where everyone joins in honoring Our Lady and begging her prayers. But no matter how extravagantly we honor her collectively, I am left feeling that I should do more. More generally: After cultivating a highly intentional devotional life as an Anglican, where is there room for that intentionality in my new Orthodox life?

As if to address my questions, Holy Cross just instituted a monthly Paraklesis service on the first Thursday of the month. This service is a supplication for the intercession of the Theotokos. Thus, it plays a role roughly equivalent to the Rosary for Anglo-Catholics. Naturally, I made a point of attending the first Paraklesis on Thursday evening, and I will try to do so regularly in the future.

From death and corruption he has saved
My nature, held by death and corruption;
For unto death
He himself has surrendered;
For which reason, O Virgin, please intercede
With him who is your Lord and Son,
From the enemies' evils deliver me.

Most Holy Theotokos, save us.

Renouncing Iconoclasm

Yesterday on my favorite blog, Fr. Stephen shared with his readers some thoughts about icons and human nature inspired by the Sunday of Orthodoxy. My friends will recognize these both as recurring subjects in my own thinking, reflected most clearly, perhaps, in my occasional lectures on Marian devotion, icons, and (what else?) Marian icons. I commend the whole post for your consideration, but especially these concluding paragraphs:

Thus when we celebrate the return of icons to the Churches, we also have to look at ourselves. The icon, the image of God, must be restored to the Temple of our self. We must renounce false images and embrace what God has revealed of Himself. The Holy Icons of Christ are precisely part of that revelation. We honor Him in His icon lest we fail to honor Him in the Truth.

At the same time we have to renounce iconoclasm. In so doing, we inherently set ourselves against certain forces within modernity. The truth is indeed eschatological, that is, it lies in the future, but we also believe that this eschatological reality was incarnate in Christ, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and the Omega. We do not oppose the future in embracing the Tradition we have received. We embrace the future that is coming in Truth, rather than the false utopias of modern man’s imagination.

May the Holy Icons truly be honored and may we all be restored to the image in which we were created. Thy Kingdom Come, O Lord!

Catechumenation

After I formally joined the Orthodox catechumenate earlier this month, my friend Trevor (not my fellow catechumen, but a different Trevor) congratulated me on my catechumenation, then asked if that was a word. I decided that if it wasn't already, it should be! The catechumenate is a period of preparation for the sacraments of Baptism and Chrismation, just as engagement is a period of preparation for the sacrament of Marriage. I was the fourth catechumen. Two others had begun in late November, and one sometime before that. We have recently been joined frequently by a catechumen from a Western Rite mission who intends to transfer to Holy Cross after she is chrismated next month. Today we added six new catechumens. Six! After the homily, when we went forward for the Prayer of the Catechumens, we had nine catechumens and at least five of our sponsors gathered in front of the icon of Christ Pantocrator with Deacon Mark, who led the prayer. In a small parish where 140 is a good attendance on Sunday, we now make up a sizeable share of the congregation. Today was another highly appropriate date for catechumenation – arguably even better than the Presentation (though I wouldn't trade) – the Sunday of Orthodoxy. On the first Sunday of Lent, we commemorate the Church's first victory over the heresy of Iconoclasm in AD 787, at the Seventh Ecumenical Council, and the Church's second victory over Iconoclasm in AD 843, with the subsequent restoration of icons. But we also celebrate the Seventh EC as the last ecumenical council, which finally settled the christological disputes that had rent the Church – and, indeed, the Empire – for the preceding four centuries. This council is understood to have established the Orthodox faith as we know it today. Therefore it has become customary to celebrate the occasion with a procession of icons and the recitation of this portion of the Synodikon of Orthodoxy:

As the prophets beheld, as the apostles have taught, as the Church has received, as the teachers have dogmatized, as the universe has agreed, as grace has shown forth, as truth has revealed, as falsehood has been banished, as wisdom has declared, as Christ has assured, thus we declare, thus we assert, thus we preach: honoring Christ our true God, and honoring his saints, in words, in writings, in thoughts, in sacrifices, in churches, in holy icons; in the first instance worshipping and reverencing Christ as God and Lord, and in the second honoring them as true servants of the same Lord of all and accordingly offering them veneration.

This is the faith of the Apostles, this is the faith of the Fathers, this is the faith of the Orthodox, this is the faith on which the universe is established.

UPDATE: Catechumen number 11 joined us today, 4 March!

Second Thoughts

I must precede this post with a double apology. First, I am sorry to have kept my readers waiting so long for this post. Second, I'm sorry that it isn't quite up to my usual standards. I actually began composing this one in my mind before I started the blog, intending it to be my second post. I finally began drafting it more than a week ago and have been editing it ever since. It still hasn't quite come together, but I need to let it go and get it off my plate. I can't continue working on it because it upsets me to dwell so much on these issues. But I don't think I can proceed with my apologia until this one is posted.

To summarize my post from earlier this month . . . To the extent that my departure from Anglicanism is a response to current events, I am fleeing more from Archbishop Akinola than from Bishop Robinson. The latter, along with the rest of the liberal leadership of the Episcopal Church, will soon be irrelevant. Unfortunately, the process of excommunicating them is likely either to 1) break up the Anglican Communion, or 2) marginalize Anglo-Catholics.

After I reached my decision and talked with Fr. Gregory about becoming Orthodox, I made an appointment with my rector to inform him of my decision. The very day before the scheduled appointment, I had an experience that induced second thoughts. I was going through my Orthodox links and clicked onto the Interfax religion page for the first time in ages. I saw stories that reminded me once again of my misgivings about the ambitions of the Moscow Patriarchate and its attempts to exert authority over the rest of the Orthodox world. Patriarch Alexy II reminds me too much of Archbishop Akinola.

Just as Nigeria is numerically the biggest Anglican province, Russia is the largest Orthodox jurisdiction. In fact, the Russian Orthodox Church claims more members than all other Orthodox jurisdictions combined. One would think the responsibility of overseeing such a large flock and rebuilding it after seven decades of communism would be more than enough to keep the Russian bishops busy. One might also make similar suppositions about Nigeria, where the rapidly growing church must deal with widespread corruption in society and conflict with Islam. The leaders of both churches, however, seem to think their churches' size and growth in the face of obstacles heighten their authority and responsibility on the world stage. Just as Nigeria sometimes seems to think it should displace Canterbury as the center of world Anglicanism, Moscow often appears jealous of the status of Constantinople as the senior Orthodox see. While some (including me) might dismiss both churches as young and immature, they see themselves, rather, as vital and enthusiastic, in contrast to the more cautious, established churches that have become comfortable and settled in wealthier, more stable cultures. And while some (again including me) see in both churches a dangerous hubris and knee-jerk conservatism, they see themselves as maintaining a purer, more traditional form of their respective religious traditions than the churches of other nations.

In 2004, at the Eighth International Assemblage of the Russian Orthodox Church, Patriarch Alexy revived the "Third Rome" theory, a 16th century notion that, with the fall of Constantinople (the Second Rome) to the Turks, Moscow inherited the prerogatives and responsibilities of Rome. It was on this basis that the Russian rulers adopted the title Tsar, which derives from Caesar. Since then, Russia has always maintained an inflated sense of national destiny. We see this manifested today in Russia's ham-fisted attempts to dominate the neighboring nations that it formerly controlled under the tsars and the communists, as well as in the Russian OC's ongoing attempts to meddle in the affairs of Orthodox churches outside Russia. (Hierourgos notes several such instances in recent months.) In Constantinople, meanwhile, Patriarch Bartholomew promptly dismissed the revived Third Rome theory as "foolish, hubristic, and blasphemous."

So, as I was approaching Orthodoxy, I was reminded that I would not be escaping the sorts of political problems that were wreaking havoc in Anglicanism. In many ways, Orthodox politics are even worse than those of Anglicanism: in their romanticization of the past, and their fantasy-prone views of the present; in their knee-jerk conservatism masquerading as tradition; in the extreme positions of its partisans, as well as their immoderate ways of expressing these positions. It can all be rather upsetting to someone coming from Anglo-Catholicism, where we pride ourselves on the subtlety and understatement with which we express arguments, insult opponents, and issue threats. Unfortunately, the whole world can't live in the rarefied atmosphere of Anglo-Catholicism (though perhaps the Anglo-Catholic diaspora will influence the churches that receive us for the better in such respects).

But Orthodox politics have one major advantage: Orthodox conflicts rarely lead to long-term excommunications or schisms. We somehow remain in communion with extremists whose Roman Catholic counterparts would be sedevacantist schismatics. (Yes, I know there are exceptions. But you can nearly count the schismatic Orthodox groups without running out of fingers. In Anglicanism, on the other hand, no one knows how many break-away groups there are. By this point, I'll bet there are more varieties of Anglicans than of Franciscans!)

So I can look forward to a church with plenty of political conflict, just like Anglicanism. But while I have to be in communion with "those people," they will also be stuck with me; to an anti-ecumenical Russian devotee of the Julian calendar, I am one of "those people." But unlike Western churches, where unresolvable conflicts too often end in schism, most Orthodox will just keep arguing until Judgment Day or the next Ecumenical Council, without imagining there is anywhere else to go.

Ruth Gledhill Proposes Anglican Divorce

It would appear that Ruth Gledhill, proposing divorce on Valentine's Day, is no romantic. It would even appear that she regards divorce, in this instance, not as a necessary evil, but as a positive good. Gledhill sees an upcoming Anglican split resulting in two churches, headquartered in Nigeria and the U.S., respectively. She concludes:

An obsession with unity is blinding Anglican leaders from seeing the truth now facing them. It would be a better, braver and more realistic course of action to separate. It is time for the Anglican Communion to divide up the assets and divorce.

I submitted the following response (which has not yet appeared – I assume responses on the Times site are moderated). It doesn't say anything I haven't already been saying for the past few months, but it says it in 998 characters – just under the 1,000-character limit for comments on the Times site).

The unity of the Church in England was a founding principle of the C of E in 1559, and its tradition of comprehension was how that principle was realized in practice. Today, however, the C of E no longer thinks of itself as THE Church OF England, but has settled for being just one sect among many. The rest of the communion has followed this lead. With this change of identity, many Anglicans no longer take the principle of unity as a given, and they have ceased working to accommodate one another.

Ruth Gledhill proposes that the two major factions should simply acquiesce to the inevitable and get on with the schism. But any church built on schism as a founding principle will be inherently Protestant. There will be no place in either post-Anglican denomination for those of us who do not regard ourselves as Protestants. For Anglo-Catholics, and for anyone else whose ecclesiology takes unity as essential, at least in principle, the proposed "solution" is the end of the Anglican road.

The Presentation

Well, it's now official – as of a few hours ago, I am an Orthodox catechumen! At tonight's Vesperal Liturgy for the Feast of the Presentation, I went forward after the Gospel (there was no homily tonight) with my fellow catechumens and our sponsors to stand before the icon of Christ for the Prayers of the Catechumens.

I chose this date primarily for a practical reason – it was the first Divine Liturgy at Holy Cross since I completed my final duties at St. Paul's. But I also think it was symbolically appropriate to make my official Orthodox debut on the day when Jesus made his first visit to the temple.

On Tuesday morning I attended the early Mass at St. Paul's to celebrate the Feast of King Charles the Martyr and to receive communion for the last time as an Anglican. Tomorrow night I will make my first visit to St. Paul's as a non-Anglican for the annual Candlemas service, featuring the Blessing of Candles, a procession, and an orchestral Mass setting by Mozart. It is actually the same feast that we celebrated tonight at Holy Cross. Since the Antiochians normally observe great feasts that fall on weekdays on the eve, I will be able to celebrate one of my favorite feasts a second time!