The following concludes a series I had intended to end last week, but my laptop needed to be repaired. Rather than delay any longer, I have decided to go ahead and conclude this series so that I can move on to a new series of lenten posts I am very excited about (mostly because I get to read a bunch of great guest posts). I am typing this on my iPad, so I apologize in advance for any formatting issues. WordPress for the iPad is great, but not as good as it is on my laptop.
There are some “perks” to public theology. Warm fuzzies from online readers really strokes the ego. My heart is strangely warmed whenever I get a new Twitter follower. But if I let who I am and why I do this get mixed up with what other people say about me, then I’ve got a problem, because a lot of what people say about me is not very nice. There are other benefits to doing this. I do make a difference: Continue reading “Benefits of #Doctrine: Theology in 140 Characters or Less”
My weekend was not very relaxing. I got home from work Friday to prepare to teach my SAVY students on Saturday morning (where I sometimes stand on chairs). On Saturday afternoon, I was in a rental car, driving to the annual conference for the Southeastern Commission for the Study of Religion (SECSOR). I was invited to present on the topic “Theology 2.0,” which was about the role of public theology in the age of social media. After filling up on some Indian food on Main Street in Greenville, SC, I drove back home again. I got in at about 9:00 last night. I am both tired from the trip and energized at the great conversation with other scholars trying to figure out how to be theologians in this new digital landscape.
Oddly enough, actually brings me to the topic of my paper itself, which was titled, “#Doctrine: Theology in 140 Characters or Less.” Rather than tell you what I said, I think I’d rather just say it. So over the next few posts, I will break up the manuscript of my talk, which I hope will help generate some discussion about what public theology actually is, why it matters, and how to do it in a way that is both effective and faithfully Christian. The first part of my presentation dealt with “Why #Doctrine?” Continue reading “Why #Doctrine: Theology in #140 Characters or Less”
Do a logistical or communication error or something, there will be no projector for my presentation in Theology 2.0 with SECSOR. You can find my Prezi below or download it as a PDF.
[T]he human being must be able to rise above even ethics.
Fr. Sergius Bulgakov
I tend to work my way through several different texts at once. Lately I have been picking my way through Bulgakov’s Unfading Light. This was the book that got Bulgakov accused of heresy by some in the Orthodox Church, the outcome of which was a split-decision in Bulgakov’s favor. History seems to be on the side of Bulgakov, especially since those who continue to insist on his heresy typically have read very little of him, whereas those who read him “get” what he is doing. Unfading Light was Bulgakov’s first attempt at a philosophy of divine-human communion in the idiom of a school of thought known as “sophiology,” which attempted to understand how the absolute God could relate to that which is not God. In his mature theology, you might say the question of sophiology is, “How is Christ possible?” To some, this question is hopelessly speculative, but for Bulgakov and his “fans” (a word that never means 100% agreement) this question is essential for an Orthodox theology of culture.
The explosive growth of the Orthodox Church in the United States has been fueled by converts. Mostly disaffected Protestants, they have brought new energy and enthusiasm to the church, but I have noticed that sometimes “my people” can disparage the traditions they came from.
I say “my people” because I am also a former Protestant. I attend a church that was once part of the EOC, so I am in no position to wag fingers at anyone. But I do want to point out a few reasons why we should not be so quick to make Protestant Christianity a foil for Orthodoxy.
It is not very Orthodox. Though we have a long history of polemics against “schismatics,” we have a longer history of catholicity. I think this has a lot to do with our liturgy. We do not seek to purge the world from ourselves but to offer the world to God and receive it back renewed. This means that our Protestantism is not something to be condemned but to offer to God and receive back again as a gift. For a few years after I converted, I was bitter toward my former church, until I realized that the church I left was the church that first taught me how to be a Christian. I would not be Orthodox if I had not been Protestant first. Thanks be to God!
It is not very nice. I have been thinking about this for a few reasons. One of them is that a Reformed friend of mine commented the other day that he often hears Orthodox types use the word “Protestant” for “bad.” This not a helpful start to a constructive conversation.
It is very Protestant. I do not mean this to malign Protestantism (i.e. to do the very thing I say we should not do). My point is to say that we need to stop defining ourselves by what we are not, because otherwise we are doomed to repeat that which we oppose. One fact of the American religious experience is that churches have often competed with each other for members. This is what many Orthodox Christians seem to be doing today, plying all the skills they had acquired as Evangelicals to their new ecclesial milieu.
I do not think Orthodoxy is served by allowing itself to be paralyzed by the fear of becoming Protestant. It can keep us from having substantive conversations about important issues, such as the ordination of women or our stance toward LGBTQ individuals (which Orthodoxy has yet to address on its own terms). I understand the fear that some have that Orthodoxy might make the same “mistakes” (or something) of the traditions they had left behind. But one should not join the Orthodox Church because it is “better” than another church. A person who leave Protestantism because it is not perfect will leave Orthodoxy for the same reasons. Rather, the only thing that can sustain a lifelong commitment is love. One should join the church only because one falls in love with it, and love requires we have these conversations, because perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18).
March is the month when women across my archdiocese will take a more visible role during the Divine Liturgy. Mostly “Women’s Month” means they will read the Epistle and collect the offering. I am glad for this month because I do think women need not only work with the kids or in the kitchen, but giving them one month out of the year feels like an empty gesture that, I’m afraid, reinforces the paternalism it pretends to testify against.
Women’s Month is proof that there is misogyny in our church, just like Black History Month proves systemic racism. African Americans need one month out of the year only because people like me pretty much get free reign over the other eleven. The same is true for women. Every month is Men’s Month.
