Orthodoxy will likely never gain a strong foothold in post-modern, over-Christianized and post-Christian America until it is able to expunge from the societal consciousness of our ailing nation the jello-like adherence to “relativism.” A close cousin to this nonsensicality is that of pluralism, of course, but that is a discussion for another day. I realize I’m painting with broad strokes here, so forgive the broadness, the boldness and the matter-of-fact-ness, if you will. Forgive the use of “-isms,” in general, please.
When the Orthodox Christian approaches the “average American,” the idea that there could be only one Church, with one Gospel, one right way of doing things and one right way to believe, the Orthodox person is often faced with sentiments of absolute horror, disgust and rebuke. “How dare you claim that you’re the only true Church!” they say. Indeed — How dare we. But the fact of the matter is simply this: it’s true.
Now, without debarking onto an extant diatribe on the one-ness of the Church, apostolic succession and the like, I will regain my focus and get to the point: Truth has become the red-headed stepchild (please forgive me, all red-headed stepchildren) of present day American/Western culture. Truth is no longer absolute, it is no longer particular and it is no longer personal. Truth exists somewhere in the world of abstractions and is impossible to nail down with any certainty. It has become completely dependent upon the whims of time, culture, circumstance and necessity. It has become wholly relative. In fact, it seems that the only absolute truth of our present, evil age is that truth is relative.
“Be not deceived with strange doctrines, nor with old fables, which are unprofitable. For if we still live according to the Jewish law, we acknowledge that we have not received grace.
The Holy Gospel According to John is the most “mystical” of all the holy scriptures.
I’ve recently been listening to some lectures by Fr Thomas Hopko (Dean Emeritus of St Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary) that deal with both the Apocalypse and the Divine Liturgy. I highly recommend his work, especially for those who have come from an evangelical or Baptist background, as he can make things quite simple for us.
One of the most distinguished characteristics of the Orthodox Church is the nuanced (some might say “eastern” or “Greek”) understanding of “symbol” that is transcendant and goes beyond mere externals or the recesses of one’s brain. The concept of “symbol” for most people in the west today is — in the words of the reposed Fr Alexander Schmemann: “an illustration whose purpose can be termed pedagogic or educational.” In other words, a symbol merely points to or teaches about an idea or concept, but offers no real or transcendant connection to anything beyond itself. In Orthodoxy, however, a symbol is a gateway or “window” to something beyond itself; it is something that truly connects the person with the thing signified.
Saint Justin the Philosopher (known also as “Justin Martyr,” given that he was martyred for besting a debater of the non-Christian empire) wrote at length on a variety of subjects that are of the utmost interest to me as a student of philosophy. His work on the Church as “the true Israel” as well as the dependency of Greek philosophers on Moses / Hebrew philosophy are crucial when trying to discern how the early Church fathers understood such things.
When a Protestant approaches the scriptures in order to rightly interpret them and apply them to their lives, the approach is typically that of a scientist and a historian – they are attempting to abstract and be removed from the context of today’s western world and be found within the culture, language and context of the original authors of divine literature. There is rooted in this approach not only a reliance upon Nominalism (as with all things Western and/or Protestant) but also the fundamental belief that we are “separate from” both these original authors and from God Himself (He is the “Man upstairs” and Protestant worship focuses on asking God to be present or “show up”). As such, Protestant hermeneutics, if you will, is an exercise in textual archaeology.
Raphael and Tobias continue on their journey and come to the Tigris River. When there, “a fish jumped up from the river and was determined to swallow the young man” (Tobit 6:2). This is an interesting turn of phrase, considering these events occurred during the time of Jonah’s prophecy about the destruction of Nineveh (mentioned later in this book by Tobit himself). Raphael instructs Tobit to catch the fish and make use of it, however: “Take the heart, the liver, and the gall and put them in a safe place” (6:4). They cook and eat the rest, of course (6:5).