The Staretz Never Came

When I was inquiring into Orthodox Christianity, I (and the group I was a part of) became convinced early on that we needed a staretz, an elder of profound holiness and insight to guide us. At the time, it made perfect sense. In the milieu from which we came, sincere earnestness was the primary—if not the only—indicator we had to spiritual vitality. And since we were an intensely earnest bunch of enquirers, we seemed to ourselves (although we never would have actually said this) to be spiritually alive to such a degree that normal guidance from just any priest would certainly not be adequate for us. We thought we were a special case, but the staretz never came.
After our community had been Orthodox for a year or two, we began to experience a lot of strife among the leaders of the community. The “system” of relationship, leadership and decision making that had created our community and led it to Holy Orthodoxy began to crack. From my perspective, the crisis was perhaps most acutely precipitated by the events leading to the death of our great friend and head chanter, Dn. Timothy. Suffice it to say that our new milieu, the Orthodox Church, provided ways of thinking about conflict and loving those who succumb to weaknesses of various sorts, ways that our community’s leaders did not equally recognize or appreciate. And then, of course, there was the bishop.
We were the first large group of converts that Bishop Joseph had received into Holy Orthodoxy. He had only been in the United States for one year, his English skills were still developing and he was completely unfamiliar with American Evangelical sensibilities. This was a recipe for misunderstanding and confusion if ever there was one. And still no staretz came. Misunderstanding and accusation bloomed like a red tide. Quickly factions emerged. It’s a funny thing about factions in a community: you don’t really have to be on anyone’s “side” to be on someone’s side. The very fact that you don’t vociferously defend (or accuse) the villain (or hero) of the moment makes you a de facto member of one party or another.
The most painful few years of my life were these years of trouble: wishing, hoping and praying for a holy man who could speak definitively and clearly, who could draw a line in the sand so that we could know which was the right side to be standing on. But the staretz never came. Or perhaps a better way to put it is that God did not confirm our delusionary self importance; rather, he let it self destruct. There was no right side or wrong side. There was no line to cross or not cross, as is the case with almost all conflict in the Church (and it’s that “almost” that makes conflict in the church so difficult to negotiate). There were only confused and frustrated people who wanted earnestly to do the right thing; and that earnestness itself was part of the delusion that needed to be purged, along with the assumption that the right thing was anything more than to love one another.

America Coming to Orthodoxy

I got an e-mail today from a colleague in the world of Orthodox Christian publishing who commented that "America is not coming to Orthodoxy." It was at once a statement of realism and apparent resignation. However, I do not think his observation is correct. If by "America coming to Orthodoxy" we mean a massive conversion on a popular level--revivalist fervor, tent meetings with icons, incense and golden chalices, along with the accompanying recognition in the secular media--then certainly America is not coming to Orthodoxy. And I say thank God. I don't think the American Orthodox Church (and here I mean North American) has the administrative strength to handle a tsunami.
However, if one allows that coming to Orthodoxy begins by becoming aware that it exists and is a real option for Christians in North America, then I say America is coming to Orthodoxy. When I began teaching at a major Methodist seminary about twenty years ago, the M.Div. program required two semesters of Church history: New Testament to Reformation, and Reformation to present. In none of the one-year course of lectures was there any but the slightest reference to the Eastern Orthodox. Church history was a direct line from Paul to Augustine to Aquinas to Calvin/Luther to Wesley to whatever flavor of contemporary Christianity one preferred. Theology followed the same path. When I left this seminary five years ago, one full lecture in the history cycle was devoted to Eastern Orthodoxy, not a tsunami, but certainly an introduction that had never existed before. Similarly in theology, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory Palamas had been "discovered." In New Testament, (albeit without the discernment of the Church) the importance of all first and second century Christian authors had been discovered.
When I came to Trinity Western (the largest Evangelical university in Canada), I was pleasantly surprised to find many faculty members openly discussing the role of tradition (of course it sounds better and probably draws less criticism from reactionaries if you use the Greek: paradosis). Theology faculty occasionally asked to discuss with me some of the more difficult aspects of Zizioulas (Being as Communion) or Yannaras (The Freedom of Morality). I would hear professors mention Schmemann and Tillich in the same sentence. Bishop Kalistos Ware's The Orthodox Church and The Orthodoxy Way were required texts in some courses (and often available in the general reading section).
It seems to me that America is coming to Orthodoxy. But like everything Orthodox, it takes a real long time.