Saturday, February 21, 2009

Rock House

I spent the day in Stokes County with my ex-girlfriend's mother, driving over hill and dale, in search of the Rock House. That sentence requires some explanation. Most people wouldn't ever hang around with their ex-girlfriend's mother, but I'm still friends with my ex and her family, and I keep in touch with them, as well as occasionally working for them, so it isn't strange for me to be out somewhere with them - whether doing odd jobs on their property or meeting them for dinner somewhere. Right now I happen to be doing research for them, with the goal being the production of a "history" of the plot of land they've bought in Stokes County, NC. They intend to convert this piece of land into a cidery, and to that end they want some sort of story to go along with the property, a sort of "legend," that will make their cidery's image more appealing. This "history" is to be a piece of fiction partially conceived in fact and drawn from tidbits of local history. How exactly this "history" will be structured is not 100% clear to me. The more I delve into the local history of Stokes County the more I find that would make for an interesting story.

This brings me to the Rock House. The Rock House is a practically cyclopean stone fortress/house that was built some time between 1770 and 1785 by Col. John Martin, a Revolutionary War hero, Indian fighter, and judge. This is what we had set out to find. So we traveled over the hills and dales of Stokes County, an area that is comparatively "older" in many respects than nearby counties. Driving through such an area is a treat for me, because I'm a tobaccobarnophile. I like craning my neck to see old tobacco barns, sheds, shacks, mills, and ramshackle huts that dot the countryside. The Dutch have their windmills, we have the tobacco barns. Lately I've been fantasizing about salvaging tobacco barns and building an Orthodox church out of them, so every time I see one I try to imagine it with a gold dome on top of it.

Tobacco barns are all well and good, but then there is the Rock House. This is the most impressive pre-industrial structure in North Carolina that I've ever seen. Sure, Tryon Palace may be grand and reefined, but it can't compare with the herculean effort which clearly went into this backcountry castle. What I find most impressive about the house is that it's so imposing, and composed entirely of huge pieces of rock quarried from the nearby Sauratown mountains. Teams of slaves and quite possibly other hired hands from the community would have had to truck tons of rock a good distance from where it was quarried to the site, which sits on top of a promontory. The walls are three feet thick in most places, and around the chimneys which flank either side of it, five feet. Most of the stones range in size from a foot long to huge monoliths that make up the steps and foundation. Equally impressive is the arrangement of the stones, which have been stacked in such a way that they lay almost perfectly level, one on top of the other, in jigsaw fashion. The house has three floors, arched windows and doorways, and a huge basement area that was used as a kitchen. During times of panic, such as the American Revolution when marauding Tories and Indians were roaming the country, the home served as a refuge for the locals, as well as a mustering ground for the local militia.

I'm not sure as yet how to utilize the Rock House in my "history," but I'm working on it. Below are some photos, even though they hardly illustrate just how large this building is.





Friday, February 20, 2009

Carolina Conquistadores

I was excited when I read about this a few years ago. Spanish forts in North Carolina predating English settlement by 20 years. I was reminded of this because of late I've been conducting research for some friends on the history of Stokes County, NC. There are three explorers who penetrated into the Carolina bac country in the period between 1567-1700, and all three were named John. Juan Pardo, a Spanish Conquistador, Johann Lederer a German physician, and John Lawson an English naturalist.

In the record of his travels, John Lederer, the German explorer who explored the North Carolina backcountry in the 17th century, records meeting a group of Indians who described a powerful nation of bearded men to the south. Lederer assumed that these bearded men were Spaniards, and it seems very likely that they were.

However, it got me thinking about the legends that are associated with the frontier of America. The early areas of contact between Europeans and Native Americans during the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries are places of legend, where reality is blurred and there are many opportunities for imaginative conjecture and fantastical stories. Lederer was certainly aware of the failed colony at Roanoke, and perhaps of the disappearance of its inhabitants, along with the cryptic message "CROATOAN" carved menacingly into a tree.

Lederer may or may not have been familiar with the legend of Prince Madoc, the Welshman who came to America with a group of colonists in the 12th century. They are purported to have roamed the waterways of the southern interior searching for a permament home, all the while avoiding unfriendly Indians. The Cherokee spoke of a "moon-eyed" race of people who had fair skin and blond hair. Many historians think this legend was invented as a means to assert a prior English claim to the New World - and if so I think it's brilliant. Nevertheless, the Daughters of the American Revolution erected a plaque to Madoc overlooking Mobile Bay, Alabama in 1953 that read: "In memory of Prince Madoc, a Welsh explorer who landed... in 1170 and left behind, with the Indians, the Welsh language." The plaque was later removed, which is unfortunate. Who cares if it's apocryphal? We need legends like this, if only to add an ounce of wonderment and mystery to our past.

There is also the legend of St. Brendan, who some believe sailed to America in the 6th century. A researcher demonstrated that it was possible to sail such a distance using a coracle - but I've been in a coracle before, and they're not particularly comfortable, even over short distances. There are others who claim to have found evidence of ancient Hebrew settlement in the Americas, but that begins to cross the line from entertaining speculation into full-on nutjobbery.

But the fact that Juan Pardo, the Spanish conquistador, came to North Carolina in the 16th century with his priest, troops, plates of armor, and arquebusiers is mysterious and fascinating enough to inspire me to wonderment. They built six forts, all named after saints or existing cities in Spain, such as Salamanca, Santiago, and Cuenca - which was Pardo's hometown (Cuenca, incidentally, may have derived its name from an Arab castle called Kunka which stood near the present city of Cuenca). The first Christian religious services held in North Carolina were Catholic. The first Christians in Carolina asked Mary and the saints for intercession (Pardo even named a fort near present day Morganton "San Juan," for his patron saint) and in all probability celebrated some sort of liturgy in modern day Rowan County. So, there were Spanish Catholics worshiping in a fort that was probably named after an Islamic castle in 16th century North Carolina - to me that's incredibly fascinating.

The Spanish presence established in North Carolina by Pardo only lasted 2 years, with a lay missionary, Father Sebastian Montero, remaining another four years among the Indians, teaching them Spanish and the rudiments of Christianity. He's certainly an individual I would like to learn more about. What if they had succeeded? What if the Spanish project in North Carolina had held on, and not only established a permament settlement, but successfully converted Indians to Catholicism? Would we be living in Carolina or the northern portion of La Florida?

But reality is perhaps more amazing than any "what if" scenario or fantastical legend. Juan Pardo left Carolina unsuccessful, and eventually the Indians were also driven out in turn. But now the Mestizos and Hispanics have come to Carolina - Indians of other tribes and points of origin - and they bring with them their Catholicism, their images of the Virgin, and their Spanish language. History is full of such wonderful ironies.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Men in funny hats

It's always an interesting day at Books A Million, for one reason or another. Today a venerable southern black lady came in asking for the books on applying for college aid. I took her back there and we started talking about my college experience. This shifted to what I studied. She asked me about history - was the American Constitution based on Christian principles or was it from some other source? I said that I believed it was primarily derived from Greek philosophy and Enlightenment notions, not that Christianity had nothing to do with it, but I emphasized that the founding fathers were primarily deists, not orthodox Christians. Thomas Jefferson even took out all of the parts in the Bible he didn't like - the miracles, references to Christ's divinity, etc.

We continued on the subject of religion. She asked me how I knew so much about Christianity, and I explained that I was a Christian. She asked what denomination. Oh boy, here we go. So I explained my upbringing and then explained that I was converting to the Orthodox Church. She didn't know what that was at first, so I explained further. Her idea of the Orthodox Church was terribly intellectual men in funny hats - somehow this seemed to signify the lack of life, of spirit. I attempted to explain the mystical quality of Orthodox theology to her, that at its heart it's anything but intellectual, but deeply mystical. A theologian is one who prays, and one who prays is a theologian, I thought, but I didn't tell her this. She also seemed to think that the Russian Orthodox Church was Marxist. I thought this was funny, but didn't say anything.

She said that she was brought up Pentecostal, but was now involved with a church that had a bishop who was from Liberia, and he didn't approve of all of the crazy slain in the spirit behavior. They still had speaking in tongues, but she seemed to indicate that it was engaged in to a lower degree than in her previous experience. "Do the Orthodox speak in tongues?" I said that we believe in Pentecost and all that it entails, but I wasn't able to articulate to her just what that means to the Orthodox Church, at least in the time given. I did make it clear that speaking in tongues wasn't something that went on during our services.

"Then how do you know if you have the Holy Spirit?"

How do we know anything? How do we know God exists and that He created all things? How do we know that Jesus Christ is His only begotten Son? Except apprehend it by faith? When people say things like "How do you know if you have the Holy Spirit?" or "How do you know if you're saved?" it upsets me. Because it's a preoccupation with salvation, with the signs of election, than with what really matters, and that is loving God. A believer should not be asking him/herself such things, but rather they must love God, love their neighbor, pray without ceasing, repent, rejoice, and give thanks. But most of all give thanks for the gift of salvation.

But when I answered her question, I had to be honest and said, "It would take me a while to explain that to you properly." But then it got really weird. She put her hand to her head and closed her eyes and said, "The Lord is telling me something now...you're not going to convert to that Church."

"Oh, really?" I said.

"Yes, the Lord says that you're searching for truth, and that's good, but don't let them get their hooks in you. You'll find the truth. He's telling me that you're looking for unadorned worship, without the trappings of men, and that you'll find it. And He's telling me something else, that you're going to become a great pastor."

She started speaking about the Devil coming in the form of an angel of light and essentially warned me to stay away from the Orthodox Church, even though she clearly didn't know much of anything about it.

At this point I'm thinking, okay. I have a lady prophesying in Books A Million. I honestly didn't know how to react initially, but as the evening went on and I thought about her words they only further confirmed me in my decision to convert to Orthodoxy. I thought, what could possibly deter me from the True Faith, from the Church, in which is Life? "Unadorned worship," is no worship at all. Worship is rich and elemental; gold, smoke, fire, water, bread, wine. To me the very notion of not being baptized into the Church was foreign. For all of my life of being brought up Christian, I had Christ, but in the One Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church I have seen Him. I have come to the fullness of Him. I thought about the words that are sung after communion every Sunday: "We have seen the True Light, we have received the Heavenly Spirit, we have found the True Faith, worshiping the undivided Trinity, Who has saved us!" How do we know if we have the Holy Spirit? We eat the flesh and drink blood of Jesus Christ. I have come to the point on my journey where I think, why would anyone not want to be part of this?

Perhaps only those who do not understand, or who have yet to "come and see." I wonder to what extent the ignorance of this woman with regards to the Orthodox Church - who I believe is a very sincere believer, and most certainly a much better Christian than I - is general among southern evangelicals? Black evangelicals?

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

We must disenthrall ourselves

Fr. Thomas Hopko has a great podcast on President's Day and Abraham Lincoln. This is taken from another great speech that Fr. Tom gave on Lincoln and our secular religion, but I can't find it online. I've only heard it on cassette tape because it was given way back in the day at Saint Vladimir's Seminary.

In the podcast, Fr. Tom addresses how Lincoln emerges in American secular theology as a redeemer figure. Horace Bushnell explicitly stated this in his book "Vicarious Sacrifice" - that Lincoln had to die in order to "save" the Union. It's clear from Lincoln's writings that he believed in this providential view of America as being "chosen" by God and aspiring to some great destiny. And Lincoln was willing to sacrifice hundreds of thousands of human lives to save this. "We must disenthrall ourselves," is Lincoln's Gospel message. It's the same sort of self-assertive language we find in "Yes We Can."

I was always disgusted at the notion of the the Union and why it had to be saved. Fr. Tom speaks of America as the nation with a soul of a church. If that is so, then the Union takes on a sacramental character. If America is a chosen people, set apart by God, then the Union cannot be dissolved, for its dissolution would invalidate that belief. It's like saying the Body of Christ - the Church - could be dissolved and divided.

Yet I am reminded of John Wilkes Booth's final journal entry, written just days before he was shot and killed by Boston Corbett in a barn in Northern Virginia. He wrote: "This forced Union is not what I have loved." I find it interesting that Booth was a baptized Episcopalian, and some of his fellow conspirators were Catholics, whereas Lincoln - although he clearly read the Bible - had never been baptized, was not a believer in the Church, and had a deistic view of God. In another interesting religious twist, Boston Corbett, the man who helped pursue and later kill Booth, was himself a religious "eccentric." A born-again Christian, he was given to displays of sudden religious euphoria, such as shouting "Praise Jesus!" He later moved to a secluded piece of prairie in Kansas where he dug a hole - yes, a hole - and lived in it like some ancient ascetic. While there he castrated himself so as to avoid being tempted by prostitutes. He was later put in an asylum, but escaped, and possibly met his fate in the Great Hinckley Fire in Minnesota - although there is no definitive proof.

Fr. Tom does make an incorrect statement though, that America is the only place where race-based slavery existed. Rather, race-based slavery existed throughout the Americas (Central America, Caribbean, South America), and in other parts of the world in different periods. Under Islamic slavery for instance, the more menial work was typically assigned to Africans, who were seen as inherently intellectually inferior in Semitic culture. This is not to assert that there is anything in Islam which asserts that blacks are inherently inferior. However, Islamic writers did use the Koran to defend racist attitudes. This is the same case with Christianity; rather than simply using Scripture to defend slavery in the abstract - which they certainly did - American slaveowners also looked to the Bible to defend race-based conceptions of slavery. This led to all sorts of "mark of Cain" and "curse of Ham" nonsense that many throughout the ages - including southerners unfortunately - believed.

********

I've been watching "MacGyver" from the beginning and today I watched "The Heist." An English soldier of fortune/war criminal/casino owner (played by Vernon Wells of "Mad Max" and "Commando" fame) steals 60 million dollars worth of diamonds from a charity that intends to use the funds to feed starving people in Africa. Of course MacGyver is sent in to get the jewels back - why people always turn to MacGyver in these situations is never made fully clear. It seems to me that a unit of Delta Force could just go in and run roughshod over the bad guys, but then again I suppose it wouldn't be as fun to watch. MacGyver teams up with a Peace Corps worker turned vigilante who is determined to get back the $60 mil and return it to its rightful owners in Africa.

Really the whole episode is just a silly romp, which is what television should be. At one point, MacGyver has to infiltrate the casino by dressing up as a high roller. When a woman at a craps table asks who he is he replies, "The name is Bond." Despite his suave clothing and demeanor, MacGyver can't seem to get his cowlick to stay down.

Terry Nation of "Dr. Who" fame contributed to this episode, and it shows. The pacing is brisk, and frequently it doesn't make a lot of sense - which is rare for MacGyver episodes since they're typically so science-based. There are a couple of things in this episode that are frankly quite impossible. For instance:

1. MacGyver uses a piece of plastic tubing to contain a beam of light that is being used as a security device. It's a good effect, but it's totally impossible, especially since MacGyver has to interrupt the beam before he can connect it to the other side.

2. The baddies use a vault that is encoded with a code that responds to a certain sequence of notes. MacGyver is able to infiltrate, listen to these notes, and then replay them using four wine glasses and a bottle of wine. And he has help from a tropical bird, which has heard the notes so many times that it keeps repeating them. This is one of the more entertaining MacGyver moments, but we all know he'd be there for hours trying to get the perfect notes - and how come the bird doesn't set it off on its own spontaneously?

3. MacGyver jerry rigs a parachute to a sportscar in the back of a cargo plane. He then drives the car out of the plane and parachutes to safety. The shots of the ground below are clearly somewhere in the southwestern United States, not the Virgin Islands, where this episode takes place. If this had been in the Virgin Islands, MacGyver's car (which contained the diamonds) would have been lost in the ocean. Furthermore, you can clearly see the cameraman jumping out of the plane behind the car.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Fr. Paul Yerger on Orthodoxy in the South

There's a great article over at Fr. Stephen Freeman's blog by another southern Orthodox priest, Fr. Paul Yerger. It deals with the question I've been wrestling with of late, how Orthodoxy fits into the South, and I think he answers it rather well:

Christ-haunted — Southern Christianity is split down the middle, head and heart divided asunder. There is head religion: some tincture of Calvin, all about law and judgement, righteousness and sin, the fearful grace of the sovereign God tamed by respectability. Then there is heart religion: Pentecost, revivals, Jesus and the Holy Ghost called forth on demand to save souls and soothe the heartaches of life. And there are redneck existentialists, too, who want nothing of either, like Hazel Motes in O’Connor’s novel Wise Blood, who preaches the Church Without Christ: it ain’t got no Jesus to die for you and make you feel guilty about it.

....


Orthodoxy is the only Church that puts it all together: the mind in the heart, the body and the spirit, the word and the image, grace and freedom, the good God who loves mankind. This is the “evangel”: the Good News for the South. Her deepest longings are met here. As Vladyko has taught us, all that is good and true in Southern Protestantism is here. Jesus and the Holy Ghost are here: the real Jesus confessed as Lord and God and Saviour, risen from the dead. We are steeped in the Bible and love to hear its cadences. We also know that deep sense of the irony and mystery of human life, that yearning for something lost. The writers of the Bible knew this yearning well: By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion. This yearning is really a yearning for the New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God.


Thanks to Fr. Chris for bring it to my attention. Read the whole thing.

A friend from high school wrote, performed, and produced this album. Give it a listen. It has sort of a Postal Service/Elliot Smith feel. It's the product of ten year's of dreaming - since our sophomore or junior year of high school. I'm certainly quite impressed.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Antebellum Southerners on Orthodoxy

For the most part, the attitudes we find towards the Orthodox Church, typically referred to as the "Greek Church" among southerners, were either negative or ambivalent. There were some individuals, particularly George Fitzhugh, who praised the Orthodox Church, but for the most part southern attitudes towards Orthodoxy were informed by either a prejudice against anything that seemed Catholic or were filtered through an Enlightenment lens. Much of what southerners knew of Orthodoxy was through Gibbon's The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Gibbon took an unfavorable view of the eastern churches and wrote of the rise of Islam thusly:

More pure than the system of Zoroaster, more liberal than the law of Moses, the religion of Mahomet might seem less inconsistent with reason than the creed of mystery and superstition which, in the seventh century, disgraced the simplicity of the Gospel.

Southerners consistently praised Islam and Muhammad for limiting the influence of the Eastern Churches. C.A. Woodruff, who wrote for the Southern Quarterly Review, judged Islam "more pure" than the "depraved" Orthodox churches that were existing in the Near East. Those churches had fallen into "gross superstition," through the "idolatrous introduction of images as objects of worship," and the "deification of saints and martyrs." An article in the Southern Quarterly Review on Peter the Great contrasted the "self-control" enforced by Islam with the "merely nominal" Greek Christianity adopted by the Russians. John Fletcher, a New Orleans Orientalist and author, also credited Muhammad and Islam with limiting the influence of the "degenerate" Eastern Church, even though he argued that Islam adopted the "errors" of the Eastern Churches to mollify Greek Christians. Just what these errors were, Fletcher does not say.

An article that appeared in the 18 April, 1846 issue of the Southern Quarterly Review described the condition of life in Palestine and Jerusalem in particular, with a great deal of attention given to what the author considered the "nominal" Christians of the Eastern churches. The author ridiculed the descent of the Holy Fire at Pascha as a "farce" and compared the gathering of the faithful in the rotunda of the Holy Sepulchre as more akin to a heathen ceremony or an Indian war dance. "Of the iniquity of the bishop, who thus annually deceives these deluded pilgrims, it is not necessary to speak," he writes.

The article is an indictment of the worship and lifestyle of eastern Christians, and the author wonders how such a brand of Christianity could ever attract anyone:

The five thousand nominal Christians of Jerusalem are the representatives of almost every Christian sect known in the oriental world. The exhibition which they make of Christianity in the cradle of its birth, is dishonorable to the Christian name, and it is no marvel, that both Mohammedans and Jews hold it in derision. Such Christianity will never allure a follower
of Mohammed, or enlighten a believer the Talmud. It is painful to think, that the exhibition now made of the Christian religion in the city where it originated, is fitted to repel, rather than allure the believer.

Much of the article gives attention to the ignorance of the population and lack of progress being made in Palestine towards the improvement of the general welfare. This is a common theme in articles about the Christian east - the ignorance of the believers and the corruption and malice of the clergy. The author branded the religion of Palestine "almost universally, worthless, burdensome and debasing," and concluded his article on the hope that Christian missionaries from America and England would improve the intellectual, economic, and religious life of the denizens of Palestine.

Yet another article in the Southern Quarterly Review, from 1855, on Peter the Great, unleashed a wave of invective against the Russian Orthodox Church. Of course, we must keep in mind that this was during the Crimean War, but this does not fully explain the level of negativity:

The clergy were also very numerous, and their spiritual head, the patriarch, was armed with almost autocratic power, but was rarely enlightened enough to see, or interested enough to regard the welfare of the people. Of all the ministers of a corrupted form of Christianity, they were probably the worst ever seen on earth. The priests were disgraced by the most revolting superstitions, were infinitely more ignorant than the Catholic clergy of Spain or Austria, and if possible more unfriendly to all social, moral, and political reforms. They were members of the Greek Church, and their ambition and pride were apparently concentrated in making their churches wealthy, gorgeous, and the scenes of pompous ceremonials - such as appealed most forcibly to the tastes of the vulgar. Although Christianity had been planted in a corrupted form in Russia, as early as the eleventh century, by Vladimir, a powerful Sclavonic (sic) prince, still it had effected but few of those healthty changes which Christianity effected in the Teutonic countries of Europe, under the reign of the popes.

The introduction of Orthodoxy to Russia, which even today Orthodox Christians are fond of recalling, the famous story of Prince Vladimir's servants visiting Hagia Sophia and exclaiming that they did not know if they were in heaven or on earth is interpreted by the author as evidence of the Russian's baseness:

Its very manner of introduction augured few beneficial results. The czar was a pagan and a barbarian, yet had sense enough to perceive the necessity of some recognized form of religion; and therefore sent ten of his ablest councilors into various countries to examine their religious systems, resolved to adopt the form which best suited his royal caprice - Mohammedan, Jewish, Manichean, Papal, Or Greek.

Islam enjoins too great self-control, the author explains. Manicheanism is too hard to understand. Judaism has no country. The Pope was too autocratic. But the Greek Church was selected because it appealed to the barbarians' rapacity, lust for riches, and ignorance:

The vastness and splendor of the churches, the variety of the ceremonies, and the rich dresses of the clergy, struck the commissioners with admiration. Their reports were adopted, the czar and his nobles were baptized, and an expedition was sent to the Grecian empire, which returned with plundered vessels, books, images of the saints, relics, gorgeous dresses, and priests in abundance....Such a religion, merely nominal, had but little effect in destroying or even alleviating the miseries of barbarous life.

In my research into the subject thus far, I can't say I was surprised to find one of my favorite figures from southern history, George Fitzhugh, coming out in defense of Orthodox belief and practice. For those who don't know him, and he has indeed been forgotten by history - as many of those who defended slavery have been forgotten - Fitzhugh was a brilliant social and political theorist years ahead of his time. He foresaw the coming clash between workers and capitalists, and railed against what he saw as the erosion of traditional values and the destruction of organic social order by capitalism and industrialization. He upheld traditional southern cultural values against the acquisitive, "progressive" spirit of the North and the rest of the industrialized world. In terms of his outlook we may say that it was more "orthodox" in its rejection of Enlightenment notions. He celebrated a social order based on hierarchy and held together on a principal of patriarchy. But most of all, Fitzhugh was a sort of conservative enfant terrible of Southern letters.

In an article for an 1859 edition of Debow's Review, Fitzhugh took to task the writings of Bayard Taylor, who looked upon the undeveloped, pre-modern societies in the East as being benighted and backward. Taylor had travelled to Greece in 1859, and during his travels there had kept a travelogue, which was the subject of Fitzhugh's article. Taylor, although somewhat sympathetic towards the Greek Christians, viewed their clergy as "ignorant" and the multitude of their feast days and devotions to be counteractive to progress. In response, Fitzhugh comes very close to articulating an Orthodox view of mysterion and sacramentalism as laying at the heart of true faith:

Our author is one of the last men we should suspect of hypocrisy. We doubt not his religious faith; yet we fear the manner in which he speaks of venerated religious forms, ceremonies, and observances, is calculated to shake the faith of other people. Christianity, stripped of the formal and extraneous, degenerates into universalism and deism, and leads very soon to downright infidelity. Such has been its downward tendency in Boston, and such it will be everywhere. The Episcopal church, in both England and America, is attempting by high churchism to counteract this tendency. This new movment is headed by men equally remarkable for piety, learning and ability. If theirs be superstition, then is all religion superstition, for it is never found without ceremonial of some sort. If it be right to celebrate the birth-days of deceased warriors [here Fitzhugh refers to Greek heroes], sure it cannot be wrong to hold in veneration the memory of saints. A reasonable religion, squared down to philsophic rule, and reduced to human comprehension, is no religion at all. We must all believe what we cannot understand, or not only reject Christianity, but even dispute the existence of a material world.

And then to drive his point home, Fitzhugh quotes Tertullian:

"Credo quia impossibile," [I believe because it is impossible] is not an altogether absurd maxim. A possible religion must certainly be a false one. Not only does the antiquity of the Greek Church entitle its ordinances to respect, but the purity of its creed also challenges our approval.

Further on, when Taylor complains that the Greeks are less tolerant than the Turks, Fitzhugh defends them:

He often complains that he found the Greeks less tolerant in religious opinion than the Turks. A very tolerant spirit is not at all consistent with strong conviction and sincere faith. The Turks are tolerant, because it is notorious they have little faith in their own religion; the Greeks intolerant , because they are sincere and jealous Christians. The Virginia act of religious toleration proceeded not from regard to religion, but from indifference to it with some, and downright infidelity in others. Religious toleration, as it is now understood, is one of the humbugs of the day, which Mormon and other religious isms of the North will soon dissipate.

Taylor reserves most of his criticism for what he perceives to be the excesses of the Orthodox Church calendar, which he saw as standing in the way of "progress:"

The festivals of the Greek Church are fully as numerous, if not more so, than those of the Latin. Almost every third day is an eorti, or holy day of some venerable unwashed saint, whose memory is duly honored by a general loafing-spell of all the inhabitants. The greatest benefit that could happen to Greece, and to all Southern Europe, would be the discanonization of ninetenths of their holy drones, who do enough harm by sanctifying indolence to outweigh a thousand times the good they may have accomplished during their lives. God's sabbath is enough for man's needs, and both St. George, the Swindler, and St. Polycarp, the Martyr, have sufficient honor shown to them in the way of chapels, shrines, candles, and incense, to forego the appropriation of certain days, on which no one thinks particularly about them. Not only are the laborers idle and the shops generally shut on every one of these festival days, but the University schools and public offices are closed also. The Greeks are very zealous professors, and would exhibit much more progress as a people if they did not make a millstone of their religion and wear it around their necks.

This touches on several themes that appear throughout writings on the Orthodox in the South, but also, as we see here, in the North, during the 19th century - their preoccupation with what is seen as a religious "millstone" that weighs them down and keeps them in poverty and ignorance. Fitzhugh, however, sees this as a blessing, and draws a parallel between the Greek way of life and the way of life Fitzhugh was attempting to preserve in the South:

Better wear that than the collar of the rapacious task-master, who would make them work twelve hours a day. Better have too many holydays than none. Greece and the rest of Southern Europe have not as yet adopted the high-pressure system of society, which begets paupers and millionaires, and riots in famine and starvation. Mr. Taylor speaks in terms of high commendation of the purity of the domestic lives of the Greeks. He says also that they are desirous of acquiring knowledge, and learn with great facility. Add to this their religious zeal, their light work, and the absence of extreme destitution among them, and there is left little cause to regret their hesitancy to adopt that high pressure system of progress which our author so much admires, but which, so far, has only doomed the masses to overwork and insufficient food and raiment.

Therefore, we may say that Fitzhugh's worldview was more "orthodox" in its belief in a religion centered on mysterion, history, and tradition. Likewise, the ideal society for Fitzhugh was one based on stable institutions and hierarchy - and above all not ruled by the profit motive. If we are to speak of a "pre-orthodox" mentality in the South, we can certainly find its strongest explicit articulation in George Fitzhugh.

This is only scratching the surface of the attitudes towards Orthodoxy in the South. There are other sources which I haven't even reproduced here, and still many more sources to be explored. Eventually I hope to take all of this and write at least a sizable paper on it.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

On communion

I have been to Capernaum, the tiny fishing village on the coast of the Sea of Galilee, where Christ performed some of his most memorable miracles. The house of Peter still stands there, as well as a 3rd century synagogue which was built on the ruins of the one where Christ preached. I spent a lot of time just silently wandering through this ruined synagogue, which in form is more Roman than anything else. One can only wonder at the fact that God incarnate was here, in the flesh. This also happens to be the place where Christ said some of the most difficult words in all of the Bible - regarding the consumption of his flesh and blood.


Did Christ mean it symbolically when he said "he who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him?" Or did he mean it literally? Many of Christ's disciples remarked that this was a "hard saying," and "walked with Him no more." Some have interpreted Christ's words in the following passage, "It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh profits nothing," to mean that Christ was saying this in a strictly "spiritual" sense that we would "eat" his flesh and "drink" his blood. But in the Semitic cultures, when one speaks figuratively of eating someone's blood and flesh, the connotation is negative - it speaks of wrath. But if Christ's words in John 6:63 are in fact a sort of explanation or glossing over of his words in previous verses, then why did many of His disciples "walk with him no more?"

"But there are some of you who do not believe," the next verse begins. Christ isn't speaking about his flesh being "spiritual" or "symbolic," but that only those who have faith may grasp this as a mystery. Many of Christ's disciples wanted him to be an earthly king - someone who would kick out the Romans and rule as David had once ruled over Israel. After He fed the five thousand, many among the crowd said he was a prophet, so Christ withdrew into the mountains lest they should proclaim Him an earthly king. All of this talk of eating His flesh and drinking His blood conflicted with that. The crowds who had come by boat from Tiberias to see Him could not grasp this, for they were carnally minded. When Christ says that the Spirit gives life, it is precisely this attitude that He is addressing.

We should not attempt to understand this rationally or fit it into categories that oppose "spiritual" and "material." Just as Christ's incarnation is a mystery - fully God and fully man - so also is the Eucharist a mystery whereby we eat bread and wine, but also Christ's body and blood. To attempt to understand it and fit it into rational categories is not only impossible, but blasphemous.

The words that Christ spoke were meant for simple fishermen, and the meaning was plain to them. The difference between those who "walked with Him no more" and those who remained was that one group had simple faith. When Christ asked Peter, "Do you also want to go away?" Peter replied, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. Also we have come to believe and know that You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." That Christ was going to give for them his flesh to eat and his blood to drink did not drive them away. Rather, they simply believed.

The night before Christ was given up, or rather gave Himself up for the life of the world, He took the bread, gave thanks, broke it and said, "this is my body." After they had eaten He then took the cup and said, "this is my blood." What did he mean? The early church was clear on this point. In Paul's writings we find there is no controversy as to its meaning. At no point does someone say, "well, He really meant this," or "while he was using a metaphor, He really meant it this way." Paul says, "whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord." He then goes on to relate how some have fallen ill and died because of this, because they approached the Eucharist without a spirit of repentance. This isn't a mere symbol or a simple memorial.

Justin Martyr, writing not 50 years after the repose of the Apostles writes of the Eucharist:

For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.

Saint Ignatius( c. 35 or 50 - c. 98-117 A.D.) third bishop of Antioch (a post which Eusebius records he was appointed to by Peter), warned his flock about heretics and their Gnosticized approach to the Eucharist:

They (heretics) abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer, because they confess not the Eucharist to be the flesh of our savior Jesus Christ…Those, therefore, who speak against this gift of God, incur death in the midst of their disputes.

The earliest heretics were themselves anti-Eucharistic and denied the mystery of Christ's presence in the bread and wine. The Gnostics held that matter was evil and hence nothing physical could ever attain to eternal life, or communicate God's grace. There are numerous other references to the Eucharist that appear in the writings of the early Fathers, and they are unanimous in their teaching regarding the Eucharist.

"Do this in remembrance of me" is more than the institution of a memorial, like Veteran's Day or the Fourth of July. If it is a simple memorial then it does not fulfill or exceed the types which are given to us in the Old Testament - all of the images of messianic banquets, manna raining from heaven, the consumption of the paschal lamb, the fiery coal that touches the lips of Isaiah. "Oh taste and see that the Lord is good!" All of the mystery is lost, all of the incarnational significance is jettisoned, if one takes communion and makes it a mere "ordinance." I often get the sense, from reading books and watching television programs, that Evangelicals don't know what to do with communion. You get things like Perry Stone's "The Meal That Heals," which treats communion like a panacea for every sickness and ailment, with Stone prancing around on a stage with giant prop bottles of wine (labeled as "fruit of the vine") and giant prop wafers that look like saltine crackers.

The things of this earth were given by God to men as communion with Him. The Fall was a denial of this reality. The forbidden fruit was not communion with God, but communion with itself, communion with the world, a view of this world as an end in itself, not as communion with Him. This is the essence of sin, forgetting God. Adam and Eve did not remember God when they ate of the forbidden fruit. When Christ says “do this in remembrance of me” he is restoring that lost communion. He takes the stuff of the created world and transforms it from what this world sees it as - mere matter, mundane dust - and transforms it into communion and Life with Him - which it always was, only in Christ we have its fulfillment. While in the Garden God gave man all of creation as communion with Him - as remembrance of Him - in Christ He offers His own body and unites it with creation, with us, in the ultimate act of sacrificial love. Therefore, “do this in remembrance of me” is more than a memorial, but a restoration of our true nature as beings who exist in communion with God.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Coworkers With Candy

We hired a new woman at work, I won't give her name here but most people who read this already know her name anyway. For the past couple of weeks that she's been working with me she's been very forward and touchy. On the first day that she worked with us I had to train her and show her around the store. She took me back to the astrology/new age section of the store and asked me my birthday. She pulled down this book called "Sextrology" and looked up all of the things that were supposed to "turn me on." This was a list of all sorts of things that I won't repeat here. She also looked up the birthdays of those I would be attracted to, but didn't find herself there. Rather, she found that she was an individual who would "challenge" me. "I'm challenging you right now," she said. How very right the stars would turn out to be in this instance.

It continued with her playfully saying "I looooove yooouuuu...." She would look at me expecting me to say "I love you" back, but I would only look at her and smile. "You have to love me back, that's what Jesus does." She told me about how much she enjoyed evangelical snake oil salesman Joel Osteen once. I don't like Osteen or his writings, but being polite I told her that I was converting to Orthodoxy. She didn't know what I was talking about, so I said that I'm not a Protestant any longer. She didn't know what Protestant even meant. She also professed a great love for Sylvia Browne's books. In other words, she's a bona fide flake. One day Fr. Christopher came in to the store and we talked briefly. "Who is that?" She asked.

"That's my priest."

"Well. Praise the Lord."

Every day she found some way to put her hands on me in ways that were not appropriate. Once she took hold of the strings on my hoodie and pulled them down tight, an action that I interpreted as provocative. On several occasions she has smacked my ass - not with her hand, but with a book or a rolled up piece of paper. These were not "good job" ass smacks that some men are prone to engaging in, nor were they "ironic" ass smacks, but genuinely took me off guard because of their force and abruptness. On one occasion it was while I was helping a customer, which made it all the more inappropriate.

One day she even started quizzing me on my sexual history. I wonder if she's being flirty or if she has no other way of relating to people. If it's flirtyness it's just sad, because there's nothing about her that I find attractive. Some people have told me to turn her in for sexual harassment, but I can't see myself doing that. For one, I'm not the kind of person to raise a stink about something as minor as this. It's annoying, but it's not degrading or frightening.

After talking with her one day I found out that she used to work at a strip club here in town. All of her behavior makes sense to me in light of this. She's used to flirting with people and being touchy. It also explains other things, like her fascination with porn star Jenna Jameson, whose books she also buys at work (Osteen, Sylvia Browne, and Jenna Jameson all seem to fit together). And her whole image. She wears loud clothes like leopard skin print jackets, large amounts of make-up, and has short, frosted pixie hair. She always reeks of cigarettes covered in a layer of some sort of anonymous perfume. Her voice is like a woman 20-30 years her senior, made gravelly and slightly hoarse from heavy smoking. She's actually 28 but sounds and looks as if she's much older. And her accent is the worst kind of southern accent.

She's certainly very strange. Tonight while we were closing up the store she called with around 10 minutes left. Another co-worker answered the phone. She was drunk. She asked what we were up to and if the cafe was still open. He explained that we were getting everything ready for closing and she hung up. Five minutes later she called back again and wanted to know what was up because she was "bored." I was glad that I hadn't answered the phone.

It occured to me who she reminds me of, though. And now that I know who she reminds me of, she seems less of an annoyance and more sad. Jerri Blank, the character from Strangers With Candy, played by Amy Sedaris, is a very close approximation of the kind of person this woman is. The similarities between the character and real person even go right down to the spelling of the first name, which is spelled with an "i" instead of the more standard - and somehow less ignorant - "y."



Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Death spasm

For the past couple of weeks I've been having pain in my cheek, jaw and teeth - and this is not counting the other two weeks of recovering from the initial wisdom tooth extraction. I've been in some kind of pain for the better part of a month. The current pain started up about 2-3 weeks after the surgical work in my mouth had healed. All of the stitches had fallen out by that point. I started noticing an aching in my teeth on the right side, which I initially believed was either sensitivity or a toothache. It stuck around and got worse. Soon it became difficult to open my mouth and the pain spread to my jaw, cheek, and ear. It radiated throughout my head on the right side, which it continues to do even now. I also noticed some slight clicking or popping, which was inaudible, but I could feel it in my jaw. I emailed my oral surgeon and she said it all sounded like normal muscular healing. I was skeptical, so I scheduled a follow-up appointment.

I went back to the oral surgeon and was examined by another doctor. He told me it was the muscle in my cheek - the masseter - which had been hyperextended, sliced, and injected in the course of the operation. Not only that, but it was on the receiving end of a solid 30-45 minutes of grinding and cracking as the oral surgeon attempted to break the wisdom tooth on that side. Bone was also removed. The soreness was related to this stretching - which produced muscle spasms - and it would take time for the muscle to heal. He suggested I take 600 mg of Ibuprofen for a week and put heat on it for about an hour a day, which I've been doing. He suggested I begin my own sort of physical therapy by massaging and stretching the jaw bit by bit every day. I've also been doing that. The week is almost up - tomorrow it will have been exactly one week - but there has been little change. Everything still hurts. Some motion has been restored to my mouth, but I'm still in pain and sick of taking Ibuprofen, which makes me feel "not all there." I'm willing to give this another week, but much longer and I'm going to have to visit the doctor once again.

From a site on oral surgery complications:

Many times pain after the first week is not due to the extraction sites themselves; rather it is due to muscle spasms of the jaw muscles. This is most common in adults, and especially in females. Symptoms include pain which is usually worse at the end of the day or in the morning. The pain is more of a generalized one-sided jaw or facial pain than a localized pain in the healing socket. The pain is worse on chewing, talking, and opening the mouth. The inability to open the mouth very wide, or jaw muscle stiffness may be present. The jaw may feel swollen, but there is usually no physical distension of tissue visible. Ear pain may be present. Patients may be awakened in the early morning hours with severe pain if they have a tendency to grind their teeth. These muscle spasms are essentially due to jaw overuse and should be treated with jaw rest (maintain a soft diet and talk as little as possible) moist heat (ice can make it worse), ibuprofen (unless you have a medical condition that prohibits you from taking ibuprofen), and possibly a prescription muscle relaxant that our office can call in. Please note that taking a strong narcotic opiate pain medication for this problem can make this problem worse, because when the body is devoid of all painful inhibitions, it is easy to overuse the jaw muscle and further damage it. The measures taken above will provide pain relief and an opportunity for the joint/muscle complex to heal.

Monday, February 02, 2009

The building committee

Last Sunday we had a wonderful liturgy and service. Fr. Christopher's son, Alexander, was baptized and it was also Fr. Christopher's birthday, so the church was full of people. A bronze laver was brought into the sanctuary for the baptism, like a gigantic chalice. And Alexander was brought out, after his mother had undressed him. Here was this tiny reddish person, totally naked, wondering for all the world what was going on. Father dunked him into the water three times, eliciting a bleat or two from the tiny babe, and then Alexander was wrapped in a white baptismal garment with a little kerchief to keep his head warm. It was very moving and felt "full," for not only did the prayers mention practically every reference to baptism in the Old and New Testaments, but it was also those words being lived out.

What a shame, I thought, that there are Christians who do not even practice this - let alone infant baptism, but any type of baptism. And what a shame, I thought further, that the Christians who do practice it, don't even believe in it, because they have separated matter and spirit, symbol and symbolized, and reject a sacramental view of the world. And what a shame, I still further thought, that they ascribe no redemptive grace to the act, but make it a mere "witness" or "testimony" or "public proclamation." How empty is that world!

After liturgy I noticed some of the men, the deacons, and the church treasurer gathered around a table looking at pictures of wooden churches. It was the beginning of the building committee. Although a permanent church is far in the future - probably two or more years out - our church has already begun putting together a committee to start floating ideas. I struck up a conversation with one of the deacons - who happens to be an architect - about how cool it would be to create an Orthodox church that reflected a southern vernacular style. A church that was made from recycled tobacco barns, and that employed local river stones and had a tin roof with a coat of shiny red paint on it. He really loved the idea, and had already been thinking about it. What does a hybrid Orthodox-Southern style look like?

I said that if we could do that - it would - and he completed the sentence for me, "be one of the coolest things ever?" I nodded my head in agreement. He pointed to one of the photos, I think from Ukraine, "you see how that Church looks like it belongs there? It looks like a natural part of the landscape." And that's the problem with just plopping a very Russian or Eastern European church in a Carolina landscape - it would look out of place. We talked for a while about vernacular styles and I told him all about my explorations of sundry abandoned buildings. He asked about tobacco barns that could possibly be salvaged. I explained that people did it all the time, and that many people were more than happy to clear them from their property. "I think you just volunteered for the building committee."

A physical expression of what I envision? A tangible example of a Southern Orthodoxy? It would be like...giving birth to a child in terms of its awesomeness.