During a Thomas Sunday Sermon this year I heard a priest in Toronto say:
"Faith...that's not the same thing as believing in things...like believing in electricity, or taxes or that there was a man on the moon...that's not what faith is about...It's not about believing in things you can't quite figure out...In the Old Testament the root word of faith is in reference to a mother, a nurse, or someone who looks after children, and it is associated with caring, protecting, rending a cure, with education...It is about trusting a relationship...a trusting relationship that is good and life giving...that is where the word Faith comes from and is understood in the Old Testament...a relational power...a force, an energy that unites the creature with the Creator...it's not just an intellectual 'I believe in God' but rather something that brings us into relationship and unites us with God...that's Faith. Faith is what happens between two persons, that's different than simply believing..."
Likewise Fr Stephen Freeman, in a recent post on his blog discusses how much of our ideas about faith are equated with mental assertions and belief as thought. This characterizes the popularity of the concept that faith is a proclamation, public confession, emotional experience, or mental activity directed towards a packaged second-storey 'pie-in-the-sky' greater being. This is the theism that atheists so love to attack with demands for 'evidence.' This is also the theism that much of the consumerist mega-Churches continue to propagate. This understanding of God however is not the same as the encounter with the Living God, or with participation in the Life of the Holy Trinity.
The two-storey presuppositions of modern Christianity, with its iconoclasm and docetism, is what another priest, Fr Andrew Stephen Damick, defines as the New Gnosticism in Chapter 5 of "Orthodoxy and Heterodoxy". Specifically that:
Gnosticism was sharply marked by individualism, the belief that salvation was ultimately a private matter rather than a communal experience. The gnostics also stressed that salvation was obtained by saving knowledge rather than by faithful participation in sacramental church life. The gnostics religious system was strongly dualistic, believing that "spiritual" things were good, while the physical world was evil or at best unimportant. In its understanding of salvation and of culture in general, gnosticism was also profoundly escapist, seeking to withdraw from the world. Gnosticism placed a heavy emphasis on personal ecstatic experience contrasted with the "ordinary" ritual and sacramental life of most Christian believers. (Fr Andrew Stephen Damick, "Orthodoxy and Heterodoxy" [Chesterton: Conciliar Press, 2011] 103)
All three priests quoted and mentioned so far are not decrying mental activity. Fr Stephen Freeman for example even asserts that "God gave man a mind and He meant for him to use it. But “using” our mind and being caught up in an endless series of mental connections are not the same thing."
And later in the comments section:
"I like being with my wife, and sometimes I think about her. But, I don’t have to in order to benefit from being with her. Being with someone and thinking about them are not synonymous always. It’s, of course, normal to think about those whom we love, and to think about God, but it becomes problematic when we begin to relate to our thoughts about someone instead of relating to the person himself. Orthodox practice allows us to get out of our “mind.” And that, strangely, allows us to have peace of mind." + Fr Stephen Freeman, Comments section of post "Get out of your mind!"
So it is not the use of the mind that's the issue but rather the equating of faith as mental activity, belief as mental gymnastics, or the use of the mind and ideas [including blogs like this one] as a replacement for participation with the Person of Christ, and participation in the sacramental life of the Church, with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
"Nowhere in the Scripture or in the consensus of the Fathers do we see the notion that faith is just an inner, mental knowledge or even a feeling. Faith is rather an ongoing, dynamic relationship of trust and cooperation of the believer with God. Faith is a life of communion. Just as a marriage is not made merely by the wedding ceremony or the exchange of rings, salvation is not made by making a single decision for Christ. It is merely begun by that act, and like marriage, which St. Paul uses as a metaphor for salvation in Ephesians 5, salvation must be maintained and nurtured in order to come to full fruition." (Damick, 109)
"The physicality of the Church and all that is in it (including the physical presence and noise of the people gathered there) are truly sacramental – they are not there to make us think – they are there to love, to cherish, to honor, to make God present, to be “the least of these.” + Fr Stephen FreemanFaith is participation of one's whole being in the Life of Christ, which in the Orthodox Church also involves participation in the life of the Body of Christ, in the Church, in the Communion of Saints. Fr Alexander Schmemann says the following about this relational understanding and encounter we call faith:
"...when I say “I believe in God,” then I am making an affirmation which requires a choice, a decision. In other words, it presupposes some kind of very personal participation by my entire being. As soon as this personal participation, this choice disappears, then my faith dies, becomes in fact non-existent. Genuine faith of this sort is far from our norm, and therefore faith must in no way be reduced to simply an objective, independent part of my convictions and worldview. (Fr. Alexander Schmemann, "I Believe...: Celebration of Faith Vol.1" [New York: St Vladimir's Seminary Press, 2003] 19-20)
"...faith, in the Christian experience, is the fruit and manifestation not simply of knowledge; it is not a conclusion based on reasoning and analysis. Faith is not an intellectual calculation, but neither is it simply religious emotion which is here for a moment and then perhaps evaporates and is gone. Faith is the encounter, the real encounter between what is deepest in a person — that thirst which is so distinctly a part of him, and that toward which his thirst is directed—even if he doesn’t know what it is. St Augustine was the one who spoke best about this “realization of that which is hoped for” and the “certitude of things not seen,” when he said: “You made us for Yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” But this also brings us to the third and most enigmatic word of our confession of faith: “I believe in God”—this brings us to the word “God.” (Schmemann, 22)
"...faith is a response, which not only presupposes the presence of the one to whom we respond, but witnesses to that presence as well. Faith is a responding movement not of the soul alone, but of the entire person with his whole being. Suddenly he hears something, suddenly he sees something, and surrenders himself to that movement. This is expressed in the language of Christianity by saying that faith comes from God, through His initiative, through His call. It is always a response to Him, a person’s surrender to Him who gives Himself. As Pascal said so wonderfully: “God says to us: You would not be searching for me, unless you had already found me.” And because faith is a response, a responding movement, it always remains a search, a thirst, a yearning. (Schmemann, 24-25)
"It is not because I want eternal life after death that I believe in God; on the contrary, I believe in eternal life because I believe in God. (Schmemann, 26)
"Faith is the touching of a mystery, it is to perceive another dimension to absolutely everything in the world. In faith, the mysterious meaning of life comes alive. Beneath the simple, explicable, one-dimensional surface of things their genuine content begins to shine. Nature herself begins to speak out and to witness to what is above her, within her, but separate from her. To speak in the simplest possible terms: faith sees, knows, senses...the presence of God in the world. Faith in the affirmation of the apostle Paul is the “conviction of things unseen” (Heb 11:1); truly, for the believer everything in life and life itself begins to be experienced as revelation. “The heavens are telling the glory of God and the firmament proclaims His handiwork!” (Ps 19:1). This is not poetry; it is the voice, the witness, of faith. (Schmemann, 59-60)
To return to our first quote of this post (the bit from the Thomas Sunday sermon), perhaps we can once again suggest (with risk of reducing or packaging) that Faith in the Orthodox Church is relationship, is relational, is Communion with Love, Communion in Life. Faith is not an intellectual exercise or reliant on rational proofs, Faith is participating in the Life of Christ, Faith is the Lives of the Saints, Faith is Theosis.
Or as Fr Aidan Kimel states:
“Faith” therefore comprehends everything that we think of as constituting life in Christ: belief, trust, baptism, Eucharist, prayer, worship, ascetical discipline, works of charity, care for the poor. We are saved by being “in Christ”; we are saved by being “in the Spirit”; we are saved by our participation in the divine life of the Holy Trinity (theosis). That we sinners now find ourselves dwelling in the communion of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is sheer and utter grace." + Fr Aidan Kimel, "Ruminating Romans: Is faith a condition of salvation?"
May we live this Faith, this Way, this Truth, this Life. May on our hearts be written the True Knowledge and Life of Love by the Saints in whom all His desires are manifest, and may we write that same Faith on the hearts of our descendants. May grace and peace be multiplied to us in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, as His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us by glory and virtue, by which have been given to us exceedingly great and precious promises.
May we participate in this Grace and not in a theoretical faith. Wherever we look, whatever we do, and whatever and whoever we are, let us "find Christ and rejoice in Him."
Through the prayers of our Holy Fathers and all the Saints, may our Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us and save us. Amen.
"...the concept of "faith and works” in the Orthodox Church is inseparable from the living person of Christ, who is the source of faith and works alike in human life. The utlimate end of both faith and works is the glorification of God the Father — an essential work that belongs exclusively to Christ: "Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Ph. 2:11)."
+ Fr Matthew the Poor, The Communion of Love
(New York: St Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1984) 115-116
“Saints in Christ” means that they draw their righteousness from Christ’s righteousness, and their sainthood from Christ’s sainthood. Therefore, they are truly righteous and truly saints. Theologically speaking, faith in Christ means union with Christ based on salvation, receiving the Holy Spirit and eternal life. Union with Christ also implies communion in Christ, that is, sharing in eternal life.
+ Fr Matthew the Poor, The Titles of Christ
(Rollinsford: Orthodox Research Institute, 2008) 123
+ + +
* ps. Both Fr Aidan Kimel and Fr Stephen Freeman's posts are included below for reference:
Ruminating Romans: Is faith a condition of salvation?
by Fr Aidan Kimel
Let us assume for the moment that the Pauline phrase pistis Christou is rightly translated “faith in Christ.” What then does it mean? What is its function within the theology of St Paul?
In classical Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox exegesis, “faith” is posited as a condition of salvation, as the one condition that we must fulfill in order to be accepted by God and judged as righteous at the Great Assize. The big question then becomes: What is faith? Is it trust? belief? obedience? love? All of the above? Various texts and arguments can be invoked to support each of these options.
I want to provisionally propose that “justification by faith” is best understood as a polemical device invented by Paul, employed against those who claimed that Gentiles must become Torah-observant Jews in order to be judged righteous. It must be interpreted, therefore, over against the contrasting reality “justification by works of the Law.”
In his Commentary on Galatians, J. Louis Martyn asserts that the Greek phrase erga nomou should be translated “works of the Law.” By this phrase Paul intends to refer to life as lived under Torah. “It refers simply,” Martyn writes, “to observance of God’s law” (p. 261). In Exodus 18:20 Jethro instructs Moses that he must teach the people “God’s commandments and his Law” and make them to “know the way in which they must walk and the works they must do” (Exod 18:20; LXX). The three italicized expressions are equivalent. They signify the path of Torah observance, “the grand and complex activity of the Jew, who faithfully walks with God along the path God has opened up for him in the Law” (p. 261). Justification by works of Torah has nothing to do with Pelagian self-help or earning merit before God. It simply designates Jewish identity and practice.
Against life as lived under the domain of Torah, Paul posits life lived under the domain of Christ. He calls this domain “faith,” as a kind of shorthand or slogan. He is not proposing faith as an anthropological condition that we must fulfill in order to be saved. That is not his concern in either Galatians or Romans. If it were, we would find ourselves cast into either the pride of the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable or the angst of Martin Luther. Against the Teachers (Judaizers) Paul is concerned simply to assert the sufficiency of Christ and life in the Church. Gentiles do not need to become Torah-observant Jews. Conversion to Jesus and baptism into the eucharistic community is sufficient.
“Faith” therefore comprehends everything that we think of as constituting life in Christ: belief, trust, baptism, Eucharist, prayer, worship, ascetical discipline, works of charity, care for the poor. We are saved by being “in Christ”; we are saved by being “in the Spirit”; we are saved by our participation in the divine life of the Holy Trinity (theosis). That we sinners now find ourselves dwelling in the communion of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is sheer and utter grace.
That is my story, and I’m sticking with it until the Apostle Paul proves me wrong.
+ + +
Get Out of Your Mind!
by Fr Stephen Freeman
I am not certain at what point modern Christians began to believe that “spiritual” and “mental” were the same thing. I know that it is a commonplace to interpret John 4:24 (“God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth”) to mean that outward actions and locations are of no value – only those things that take place in the mind are truly spiritual. The older English word “ghost” was often used to translate pneuma (Spirit, breath). Thus the English praised God: “Father, Son and Holy Ghost.” That the word “ghost” now means a “spook,” the shade of a departed person, has made Holy “Ghost” fall out of favor. German still says, “Heilige Geist” and “geistliche” for “spiritual.” For years I fielded the terrified questions of young children who were confused by the older English usage. “Come, Holy Ghost!” is scary.
Far more frightening, however, is the transformation of Christian doctrine and practice that has accompanied shifts in meaning and thought. I suspect that the anti-ritual rhetoric of the Reformation drove the false reading of John 4:24. The emptiness of many Reformation Churches bears witness to the force of the verse. Stained glass disappeared in many places. Plain, white walls, with at most, the Cross as an image, expressed the iconoclasm of the new “spiritual” worship. The altar was de-emphasized, diminished, reduced to a table, usually under the imposing and central place of the pulpit. The “Word,” written, spoken or sung, became the spiritual sacrament of the community.
Of course today the heirs of such iconoclasm have forgotten the earlier rhetoric. Walls are being decorated again with images, though mostly drawn from mass media. Movement and rhythm are commonplace as well as the more “hands-on” materiality of Pentecostalism. Modern anti-ritualism feels better than is progenitor.
I am not noting these things in order to attack them. They are the inherited forms of modern Christianity and are at home in the culture which they helped create. As such, the thoughts and attitudes that belong to them are at home in the thoughts and attitudes of everyone, even among Catholics and Orthodox who officially disagree with such modern sentiments.
As an Orthodox mission priest, and a convert to Orthodoxy, I see these things in myself. I do the things that the Orthodox do (those whose native culture was formed by an Orthodox mind and practice). But I know that I often don’t do them in the same way. I stand before an icon and pray, but I doubt seriously that I see what the average Russian in my congregation sees – or if I do – it is only through great struggle and intentionality. American spiritual culture is inherently iconoclastic. We doubt that images are useful even after we have agreed that they are.
It is not unusual for me to watch a young man or woman of Eastern background show up in Church on a Sunday. They approach the icons like everyone else. Unlike the Americans, however, they do not “go about their business” quite as quickly. Americans tend to cross themselves the required number of times and bow. We kiss the icon, perhaps light a candle, and then we move on. After all, there is a line behind us and things need to get done!
But the young Russian reaches the icon and pauses (sometimes for much longer than their American fellow-congregants would like). He/she will cross themselves slowly, very deliberately, and will stand stock still before the image. It is at this point that I begin to think, “What are they seeing?” and “What am I missing?”
One simple explanation is that Americans (or believers shaped in our culture) see icons from the perspective of the two-storey universe. That which is “spiritual” is in the head, not in the icon. The icon only serves as an object that makes me think – and the thinking is the thing! My young Russian examples stand before an icon, pray before an icon, light a candle before an icon, as if the icon is what matters – the saint/Christ/Theotokos – is right there! How still would you stand if it were Christ Himself before you? That’s how they stand!
I sometimes hear modern detractors (iconoclasts) say that the images and ritual are distractions from spiritual things. Oddly, my experience is that almost all distractions are in my head, not in the room around me! Noisy children should be no more distracting that the blue of the sky – for both are entirely normal and natural. It is my dark internal musings, fears, anxieties and never-ending obsessions that distract. I would to God that I could get out of my mind!
And this lies at the very heart of traditional worship and devotional practice. God gave man a mind and He meant for him to use it. But “using” our mind and being caught up in an endless series of mental connections are not the same thing.
There is nothing inherently spiritual about the mind.
There is nothing that makes the mind at all superior to the body.
Making the sign of the Cross is just as spiritual as thinking about the Cross and perhaps far more effective.
Modern thought, in one of its better moments, has begun to recognize that thought is best understood as kinesthetic, a combination of movement, sensation and idea. It is the recognition that we are incarnate beings. Christ God did not become incarnate as an idea: the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
The means by which Christ descended to man is the same most appropriate means for man to ascend to Christ. In giving us the Eucharist, Christ did not say, “Take this and think about my Body… take this and think about my blood.” For many, the eating and drinking that are commanded have been replaced by a thinking that was never commanded. In the Church’s teaching, the Eucharist is Christ’s true Body and Blood whether you think so or not.
By the same token, the icons “make present what they represent,” in the words of the Seventh Council. They are who they are, whether you think so or not. The physicality of the Church and all that is in it (including the physical presence and noise of the people gathered there) are truly sacramental – they are not there to make us think – they are there to love, to cherish, to honor, to make God present, to be “the least of these.” Allowing ourselves to understand this will allow us to come to our senses and get out of our minds.
