Fr. David's Blog

Demographic Deities

A Reply to Robert L. Sharp’s “Talking about Religion”

By Fr. David Thatcher

      I found myself perplexed as I read Robert L. Sharp’s opinion piece, “Talking about Religion” (April 25, 2009). On the one hand, Mr. Sharp has enough interest in the topic of religious faith that he would bother to write about it — even “with extreme trepidation.” On the other hand, he ends his column describing himself as neither agnostic nor atheist, but rather as an apatheist – an invented word, playing off the word apathy, meaning one who does cares not about the matter of God. So, Mr. Sharp writes about religion and God, but doesn’t really care about it or people who do. How one puts these two things together with any degree of seriousness? Surely matters of God, faith, and culture are serious questions. Nevertheless, Mr. Sharp’s statements on these things are quite public, and whatever his personal journey has been, he is worthy of a response.

      Mr. Sharp’s criticisms of religion and such are, actually, cultural criticisms. He doesn’t directly address the matter of whether or not any particular religion’s beliefs are true or not, other than to cavalierly brush such aside by defining faith as beyond evidence of any kind — that it is always simply blind faith. (I’m not sure why Mr. Sharp felt the need to cite a Professor of Electrical Engineering in this; many have tried to define faith in such a manner.)

      There are two assumptions about such an approach to faith, neither of which is, in the end, defensible. First, while I am not expert on world religions, as a pastor of the Orthodox Christian Church I can assure Mr. Sharp and his authorities that Christianity in fact makes claims about truth — and wants to be judged on this basis. Faith is no mere leap in the dark; there are reasons to believe in the gospel. . . . .

Manifesto in a grocery Line

By Father David

A lot of life happens in the grocery checkout lane.  Sometimes when I am waiting to make my purchase, clerical garb and all, people quite naturally engage me in conversation.  Recently, however, I had the odd experience of being a catalyst for a conversation between two young men in line—merely by just standing there. I was clearly not invited to participate; it was far from comfortable.

“If someone could prove to me that there is life after death, I'd consider being good,” said the clean-shaven one. 

“Nah…,” said the one with the au currant goatee, “you die and they bury you.  That's it.” 

“Yeah, no one can prove it.  It's better to just have a good time.”  And on they went (their language altered to protect the innocent): young buck philosophers in ball caps, buying beer for a Saturday night reverie. 

March 27, 2008

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

Greetings in Christ!

My friends, it is my honor to continue to serve on the Parish Council of our mission parish. St. Mary Magdalene Church is established in this area of the Central Valley to “proclaim and to live the Orthodox Faith.” Those of us who have been a part of the leadership here throughout the years continue to have great hopes and dreams for our little church. As lay leaders here, we want to share that sense of hope and vision with you. Yet, as Father David has said so many times, there is temptation and challenge every time we seek to follow God. Even now, our church community is facing great challenges. Therefore, our church treasurer, Bill Stickney, has asked me to write to you, to ask for your help for our mission parish in Merced.

The Hearth

By Father David

In the chilly, cozy winter months here in the Central Valley, a strange and sad thing has occurred. Our fireplaces are now regulated as to when and if we can use them. Because of our region’s chronic problems with pollution and smog — that lethal combination of fog (which we all admit to having here) and smoke (particulates!) — it is now no longer legal to burn a fire in our fireplaces when the air outside is bad.

What a sad necessity — this! It’s a kind of home invasion, isn’t it?

On January 1, the Feasts of the Circumcision of our Lord and of St. Basil the Great, Catechumen Bob Sanguinetti was received into the Orthodox Christian Church, taking the name Basil. Please click on the following hyperlink to see a small photo album of this wonderful event: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=16141&id=640813300&l=58d4f.

God grant Many Years to the newly illumined servant of God, Basil, together with his sponsor John Cheevers!

Love
Father David

Why a Messiah, Anyway?

By Father David

Icon "of the Sign," for Isaiah 7:14: "Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a child ... called Emmanuel"

It is Christmastime! The secularized and the commercialized scream out their siren songs, beckoning us to buy and eat. Christian churches counter this by cheering the faithful that Jesus “is the reason for the season.” The newsmagazines grind out proudly iconoclastic cover-stories about Christmas. They tell us the latest and greatest avant-garde theories — by the latest and greatest avant-garde scholars — about “the real nature” of the “birth stories” in the Gospels. Conservative and traditional Christians then rise up and defend the historic Christian teaching about Jesus Christ: that what was born in that manger two millennia ago was no mere man, but rather the eternal Word of God made human flesh. In the words of the Nicene Creed, Jesus of Nazareth is “God of God, true Light of true Light, … of one essence with the Father” and that he “became incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and became man.”

In all this, we’ve become like that fantastic creature of Dr. Doolittle fame: a kind of spiritual “Push-Me, Pull-You:” a creature with two heads, each pointing in the opposite directions. In the midst of all this tug of war, it seems that something is getting lost. Secular Christmas, or Christ-centered? Pop-heretics, or Jesus as really the Son of God? Yet, where’s the why? We are endlessly debating penultimate, though admittedly important, issues. Why did God become flesh — incarnate? Why was the Christ — the Messiah — promised by the prophets? We are so busy defending and expressing of the doctrine of who Jesus is, and how we should celebrate Him, that why He was and is “who He is” has gotten lost in the shuffle.

So, let’s take a quiz, to get the juices flowing in the right direction. Here it is: Jesus is God-become-man to…:

St. Gregory "the Theologian"

"The Faith

which I was taught by the Holy Fathers,

which I taught at all times

without adjusting according to the times,

this Faith I will never stop teaching;

I was born with it and I live by it."

- St. Gregory the Theologian
Pastor of Nazianzus, d. 389

Time Out!

I ask your forgiveness for the deafening silence here at the website of St. Mary Magdalene Orthodox Church, of Merced, CA. Summertime may or may not be carefree, but it is definitely busy and even chaotic. Next week I will be at St. Eugene's Camp, held at the campgrounds of St. Nicholas Ranch, in Dunlap, CA (run by the Greek Orthodox Metropolia of San Francisco). I will attempt to resume after my recovery from camping!

I do have a special request: please pray for our humble mission parish and my family at this time. We are going through a dark financial time, and now my compensation as Rector is in question. My family and I are seeking to adjust, to take the pressure off of our church community; I do work part time at Merced College, but more is needed. However, difficult times are occasions for renewed faithfulness, not panic or worse: we want to stay the course here in Merced, and by God's grace move this mission to fulfill what God would have us to do here!

While the purpose of this website/blog is edification and information, I recognize that some may desire to help us financially. If that is the case, send what God leads you to give to: St. Mary Magdalene Orthodox Church, P. O. Box 3704, Merced, CA 95344-3704. God bless you!

Love, in Christ,
Father David Thatcher, Rector
St. Mary Magdalene Orthodox Church

Control, Choices, and the Gospel

A Sermon on Matthew 6:22-33

By Priest Gabriel Seamore
Preached at St. Mary Magdalene Orthodox Church
Merced, CA pm June 17, 2007

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit! Amen!

“No one can serve two masters; either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.”

Mammon—money and possessions—can become false gods for us: things that become a passion, a worry that will consume our lives.

“Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on.”

Control by remote!

Is there a false god in this reading? Who can it be? Look in the mirror! We try to control everything in our lives as if we were the gods.

We control the little things: What we eat, what we drink, and what we wear; the shape of our bodies, the color of our hair (“Blondes have more fun,” “Wash out the gray,” “Only her hairdresser knows for sure!”), the color of our eyes. In one famous singer’s case, the color of his skin and the shape of his nose (we may laugh, but it’s a great example of the desire for control exceeding all bounds of reason).

We control the big things:

The Apostles and Walls

President Ronald Reagan at the Berlin Wall, June 12, 1987

This past week the world commemorated the 20th anniversary of words about a wall. They were in a speech that shook a generation and marked the changing of the tides of human history. I am referring, of course, to Ronald Reagan’s famous “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” speech at the Berlin Wall on June 12, 1987. To many folks on this side of that old wall, Reagan’s words seemed impossible: that massive barrier, and the ideological polarizations that inspired it, seemed impenetrable. I remember wondering: “Is Reagan for real, or is this just political grandstanding or hopeless naiveté?” The Cold War—those words seem almost archaic now—spawned years of fear and power that only perpetuated a kind of cynical paralysis. Now, Reagan towers as a kind of prophet whose words of authority crushed the giant and led people to freedom. A sentence of six simple words, so obvious that no one hardly dare utter them, were long enough, at the right time and place, to become Archimedes’ lever and move the world. Like “Thus saith the Lord, ‘Let my people go’” and “I have a dream today,” Reagan’s challenge demonstrates the power of words.

Christ’s holy Apostles also prophesied against a wall. Such was the heart of their apostolic ministry, a ministry of reconciliation. As significant as Reagan’s words were—and the breaking they evoked—the preaching by Christ’s holy Apostles catalyzed a still greater revolution, announcing the destruction of The Wall. St. Paul called it “the middle wall of partition:”

“Now in Christ Jesus ye who sometimes were far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ. For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us” (Ephesians 2:13-14).

What is this Wall that St. Paul is talking about?

Superstars for the Kingdom

"Starry Night" by Vincent Van Gogh, painted in 1889

The household asleep, I wandered into the night. We live just outside the city, and with the moon rising late, the stars are stunning. As I walked, words of Psalm 19 tumbled into my mind—but perhaps not the verses one would expect:

“Their voice has gone out into all the earth, and their words to the ends of the universe (v. 4).”

We Orthodox sing this verse every time there is a feast of the holy Apostles. Yet, this Psalm actually begins not with people who glorify God, but rather the very cosmos itself; in midst of our singing, the reader intones verse 2:

“The heavens are telling the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims His handiwork.”

This is a strangely beautiful juxtaposition: the so-called natural revelation of God in the glory of his creation on the one hand, and the special revelation of God in the Good News proclaimed by Apostles. Nevertheless, this isn’t some blithe invention of Orthodox worship; the Psalmist himself weaves together such a tapestry of the glorification of God. Of course, the Apostles are not named, per se, in the Psalm; rather, it is both the heavens and the Law of God that are his messengers. The glory of God is written in both the parchment of creation—the heavens—as well as on tables of stone in the Law of God. Today, we sing the Psalm with New Covenant hearts awakened with the eyes of New Creation—a vision only possible with the Apostolic proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The chorus of nature is itself joined by God’s special servants, all proclaiming the glory of God.  

Who were these Apostles, whom holy tradition identifies with the brilliance of the starry night? How are they like the heavens? How are they like the blessed Law of God?

Some Thoughts on Being "Apostolic"

C. S. Lewis

That great Christian man C. S. Lewis once wrote: "If we ask for something more than simplicity, it is silly then to complain that the something more is not simple" (Mere Christianity 40). Many folks, when they encounter the Orthodox Christian Faith, find themselves overwhelmed. They are searching and so want “something more,” but (as Lewis indicates) something more can be daunting. Certainly that’s true with Orthodox worship. The Orthodox tradition of worship, with its massive amount of hymnody, multitude of services, and various cycles throughout the year, might actually seem chaotic—especially to the person pressing their nose against the glass of Orthodoxy. However, there is a difference between chaotic and complex. And underneath the complexity of Orthodox worship are very definite principles and structures. The most basic principle of Orthodox worship is expressed in the ancient Latin saying: Lex orandi, lex credendi — the “rule of prayer [is] the rule of belief.” In other words, true worship embodies our Christian teachings. For us, the best place to discover and understand the Christian faith is not in heavy tomes of systematic theology, but in fact in fullness worship and prayer.

Icon of Ss. Peter & Paul

Now, when it comes to this Apostles’ Fast, which we just started, we find ourselves wondering what exactly this “rule” of prayer is teaching us. The Apostles’ Fast has no particular, or special, liturgical hymnody associated with it. In fact, all that we really have is a beginning (the Monday after All Saints Sunday, a moveable date) and an end: June 29, the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul (celebrated July 12, if we’re following the ancient Julian calendar). The day after that, the Synaxis of the Twelve Apostles, is also part of the celebration preceded by the Apostles’ Fast. So, if we’re looking to understand this season of fasting, all we really have its end. By ‘end’ I do not mean something like saying “whew…I’m glad that’s over with”; the fast isn’t a punishment to simply be endured. I mean rather “here is where the path leads.” So, the meaning of this fast is bound up with these Apostles, and with the Apostolic faith upon which we base our lives. It good to know where, and to whom, we are going.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I will be writing about the meaning of the Apostles, and of having and living the Apostolic Faith. These meditations will, God willing, help us on our journey to the feast on June 29 (and 30), marking out the path with road signs that will help us appreciate the scenery as well as the destination.

A Cinderella Fast?

Ah, here we are — another opportunity to fast for a season! Today is Monday, June 4, and today begins the Apostles' Fast, leading us to the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, on June 29. Is there “joy [that] cometh in the morning,” or “weeping and gnashing of teeth?” I find that Orthodox Christians can hardly object (thought they may want to) to Great Lent, or even the Nativity Fast (“Advent”), but find their voice when it comes to the summertime fasts: The Apostles’ Fast, as well as the Dormition Fast. These latter, perhaps especially the Apostles’ Fast, are relegated to a netherworld of plausible deniability. I skip that one, we say. Truly the Apostles’ Fast is the Cinderella of Orthodox fasting seasons: we may acknowledge her as a sister, but we’d rather pretend she wasn’t there.

It’s funny how we love those fast-free weeks, thinking them quite proper and appropriate, while one of these “lesser fasts” (they’re actually called that, in the books…) hardly warrant our attention. If they do, they loom as a major imposition that seems hardly applicable to us. “Isn’t this one of those “monastic disciplines,” we demand. “Good grief,” one says, “did you realize that, when the feast of Saints Peter and Paul lands on a Friday, it’s a fast day?” Then we roll out the non sequitur, as if it were self-evident: if the feast isn’t important enough to override a fasting day, then the fast that prepares for such a feast must not be that important. ‘Why bother? After all, it’s vacation time.’

In my experience as a priest, no appeal or argument will dam such tsunamis of avoidance. Some of us have made up our minds; Great Lent and “Advent” are quite enough for some.

The rest of us may really not be happy with the prospect of another fast, sometimes (in our ignorance) arriving like an unexpected and difficult guest. Yet, truth be told, we want to be faithful to the holy traditions of the Church and her cycles of worship. Nevertheless, as good Americans, we want to know why. “Why, in heaven’s name (no other authority will do) is there this Apostles’ Fast? What’s this one 'for?'”

The answer, in a sense, is really no different than the answer for any other fast or spiritual discipline. It’s the Orthodox Christian way. We prepare, then we feast. We empty ourselves, then God fills us. The classic tools of Christian spirituality are prayer, fasting, and works of mercy. There is no real stoppage in these dynamics of spiritual life: we slow it down, and enjoy, for the really big feasts like Pascha, Pentecost, and Christmas. This is our way, and now that Pentecost is done, and so-called “ordinary time” is here, it’s time to get on with it.

Nevertheless, the Coptic Pope Shenouda III helps us a good deal more with this:

Those Kneeling Prayers!

Icon of the Descent of the Holy Spirit

This past Monday Eve -- that is, on Pentecost Sunday afternoon -- we prayed the Kneeling Prayers at the Vespers for Holy Spirit Day, on Monday. I love coming to each feast day, in its distinctiveness, and partake of some unique aspect of the Gospel of Jesus Christ communicated through that liturgical celebration. And Pentecost does not disappoint, with its annual Kneeling Prayers.

Yet, as a priest and the one leading the people of God in these important prayers, I must admit a certain degree of struggle with these prayers. Undoubtedly, "love-hate relationship" is much too strong, but you get what I mean. These prayers are, well, quite long; priests are tempted to read them quickly, which would result in less than full comprehension. They're read once a year, so there's no opportunity to absorb them over time by repetition, week by week. They're written in classic Byzantine style, not certainly in classic English style, with its genius of directness and simple elegance. (You can tell I teach writing, eh?) I wish that I were more pious, less of a sinner, so that such thoughts wouldn't enter my head like so many birds stealing the fruits of faith, but there you have it.

So, let's look more closely at them, in order to understand them better. In these Kneeling Prayers there's actually seven different prayers, done in three sets of kneeling: two in the first set, two in the second set, and three in the third set.

Each set ends, sealed as it were with a lovely capstone, with one of the ancient vesperal prayers for light, from the Great Church of Holy Wisdom, in Constantinople. That much makes sense: praying for light as we re-enter the world from the heady days of Pascha-Pentecost, and enter "ordinary time" in our cycle of the church year. We need the light of Christ in the dark paths of this world, as our Gospel for the Feast proclaimed.

I believe that the latter is important to the content of these prayers: all the talk (prayer) about forgiveness, strength, and even death makes sense as we turn the corner from the glory of Pascha and into the normal mode of sacramental discipleship. We kneel. We fast. We sin...and confess. We beg for God's mercy. We die...or rather enter into eternal rest in the God of the living. These are the dynamics of authentic spirituality and real life in Christ. Such things always involve struggle, spiritual warfare, and self-denial as we joyfully offer up our lives as a living sacrifice to God, holy and acceptable. They are the core of sacramental discipleship, of preparation and fulfillment in our festal cycles, of self-emptying and divine infilling by the Holy Spirit. Walking in the light is no cakewalk. So, we kneel. And we pray, at length, prayers which embrace the various dimensions of being a Christian seeking the fulness of the Spirit of God this Pentecost season.

St. Paul commanded us to pray with understanding. Certainly this is all the more true on the Great Feast of Pentecost. For on this day the Apostles spoke in languages they did not know, in order to be understood by the crowds of non-Palestinian Jews in Jerusalem for the feast. The holy fathers call Pentecost the Anti-Babel: God's remedy for the confusion of tongues when He judged the builders of Babel. So, we need to understand these Kneeling Prayers. Heed, then, the wise words of the late Father Alexander Schmemann, onetime Dean of Saint Vladimir's Orthodox Theological Seminary, about these special Pentecostal Prayers:

The late Protopresbyter Alexander Schmemann, outstanding Orthodox theologian of the 20th century

The Cost of Filling Up the Tank

You don’t need a church newsletter to tell you that the price of gasoline has skyrocketed. We are all taking a second look at each and every trip that we make, from forays to the grocery store to more ambitious outings. More than that, we are driving differently: accelerations are made with care, pretending that proverbial egg is under the pedal. We shop around—without driving too much—for our car’s fuel. Gas has gone from a mundane, everyday necessity that we hardly consider to something that shapes our basic behaviors and lifestyle. It’s a basic need, and now it is costly.

At Pentecost, celebrated this upcoming Memorial Day weekend, we celebrate and embrace a Reality that, like gas in our cars, makes our spiritual lives “go:” the Holy Spirit. If cars need gas to help us fulfill our various callings and desires, Christians need this Holy Spirit, given at Pentecost, to fulfill their callings in Christ. Now the teachings of Jesus, as well as the saving realities of His passion, death, and resurrection, are established in His People. All the prophecies of the Torah and the Prophets pointed to this “Day of the Lord” when the Spirit of God would become the driving force of God’s covenant people. Without this gift of the Spirit, God’s People continue but are stuck—out of gas—unable to fulfill everything that God has revealed in Christ.