4 (of 4) AVATAR Mar. 16, 1987 at 18:15 Eastern (12410 characters) LESSON THREE - EAST MEETS WEST Before the Capitol of the Empire was moved from West to East, from Rome to New Rome - Constantinople - education in the Empire was more or less uniform, what there was of it. Most of the leisured classes had received pretty much the same education, wherever you went within the Empire, whether you lived in Rome, in Tarshish on the Iberian Peninsula, or in Tarsus in Asia Minor, a very well-to-do city which had among its schools some of the very best available anywhere in the world of that day. That is to say, the leisured classes received educations which were very cimilar to each other in that, like the schools of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, very mech depended upon and derived from Greek thought and system, and (pardon the mixed metaphors) a Greek "Weltanschauung." (German for "way of seeing the world.") Viewpoints tended to be very much the same throughout the Roman world, and so attitudes were very probably quite similar as well. It follows, then, that there would be little if any differentiation of any real substance in religious theology, even as undeveloped as it was. Early Christians were, for the moct part, those of the lower classes, and (at least in the very early decades of the Christian era) largely of the slave class, which means that they were mainly non- Roman, non-Italian and even non-Western. However, once that fundamental change in the structure of Imperial life had been made, the language barrier which developed prevented a free and easy interchange of thought in general. The fact that religious thought turned out to have a disproportionate influence on daili life simply added to the significance of the catastrophic consequences of that breakdown. Theological communication was restricted to those who were fluent in two or more languages (and those proved few enough, with the bulk of them concentrated in the East), and theology tended to become the exclusive property of the few; that easy fact gave rise tot he Gnostic heresies, which held thad there was a special revelation for the few who were initiated (and "smart enough" to be able to "understand" these difficult concepts, or special enough to be especially "chosen," "elect" for this special revelation) into the "secrets" of Greek and Roman philosophy, and the theologies of their exotic religious practices. In the East, the basic theological discussions and arguments arose over questions of Trinitarian and/or Christological nature; i.e., over the nature of the Trinity, and over precise questions of the exact relationship of Christ's human nature and his divine nature. These questions continued to plague the East for many centuries after the disputes were, in all actuality, settled, though there has been a remarkable resurgence in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries of both Nestorianism and Arianism, in different guises and under different names. The West found itself more concerned with the problem of human free will and itc relationship to God's omniscience, and to predestination, and the further question of exactly how Christ's redemptive sacrifice brings grace to man. The questions concerning the nature of grace itself are derivative in nature. The West concerned itself far more with the problems associated with Sin, Free Will and Predestination, and with the mechanisms by which Christ's redemptive sacrifice brought grace to mankind. This is, in itself, a rather fundamental division. The very attitudes and presumptions by which we take our first steps to approaching God are different. Is it surprising, then, that the results of our toddling steps are so very different? In the East, the emphasis was (and still is, for that matter) on a God who became man, Who arose from the dead and ascended into heaven, and is currently seated there at the right hand of His Father, waiting to come again at the Parousia, the Second Coming. In the West, the emphasis is of a God who became man and who died for the sins of mankind. For these reasons you will notice when entering most Roman churches, as opposed to Byzantine churches or churches of other rites, the thing of greatest pre-eminence (At least until the time of the Second Vatican Council's reforms took place) was the Crucifix, while in most Oriental churches, especially in those which are closer to the Oriental tradition and not heavily latinized, the most prominent thing is the altar itself. Instead of a dominating crucifix there is usually painted (or in mosaic, somedimes. A lovely custom.) an icon often named The Pantocrator, (Greek for "The Creator of Everything") i.e., an all-powerful Christ, Risen, Ascended into Heaven, and now seated on His throne in all His glory. The same emphasis is true of the entire spiritual traditions of which these items are indicative. The West maintains a heavy emphasis on the agonies of the Passion. The East on the glory of Recurrection, though this has changed considerably since the reforms of the Council. The spiritual tradition of the East is a strongly hesychiast one, by which I mean there is an astonishingly heavy emphasis on the necessity of silence, of peace, and of personal union with Christ; sometimes this is emphasized to the detriment of what is often necessary activity. For Eastern spirituality, if you will pardon me borrowing a Latin expression from the Thomistic scholars, the key concept is that "agitur sequitur esse," - "doing follows being." Translated into simple tebms, it simply means that we ought not worry too greatly about what to do, but rather more about what to BE, since the things one does is consequent, or follows upon, what one has become. Carpenters build, mechanics fix, birds fly, fish swim. Agitur sequitur esse. "BE" first, and the doing will follow as naturally as it comes to fish to swim or birds to fly. "BE" another Christ, and you'll not need to struggle with confusion over what to do, say, think, avoid. Those will be so completely natural to you that confusion has no origin from which to arise. Not so, the West. For the West there has always been the itch, the urge, to DO something, to build more churches, bigger churches, richer churches, in more places and in more lands, to acquire for the Church a larger and larger percentage of the population, to be "doing" something constantly, frequently ad the expense of that necessary silence. I do NOT mean to imply that Western traditions are therefore inferior. I DO mean to say that there is a place for our traditions in this world, for the things we Easterners have learned over thousands of years of accumulated experience, and that, if we live our lives as we ought in the service of Christ with the dedication which we ought, and according to our spiritual heritage and legacy, the world can only benefit by having the accumulated experience of both traditions at its disposal. Who is there to say that one tradition is more necessary than another? Or better? Surely not I. The best that I can say is that each is necessary to counterbalance the ill effects inherent in the other. Our tradition of hesychiast (quietist, complacent, reflective) spirituality brings with it the dangers of solipsism, of drawing into oneself and ignoring the public mission of the Church. The activist tradition of the West has among its inherent dangers, that of so involving itself in activist projectc, the "doing" of things, political or otherwise, that it forgets the need for FIRST acquiring PERSONAL union with Christ. It has with it the danger of becoming a "functionary" Catholic; i.e., that great danger so fraught with disaster and so common in every parish that it is enough to be a good Catholic to do what you're told, observe the commandments and do as little damage as possible. Probably the most widespread heresy current in the Church today. It is my personal opinion, based on a long and careful scrutiny of the society in which I live, that there has been a sufficient emphasis on activism for a while, and that there ought to be a greater and more deliberate emphasis placed on the Oriental approach. I found some heavy interest focused in that direction in the early days following the Council, but much of that seems to have waned these past few years. I have little to say concerning those who uphold their traditions at the cost of denigrating those of others, that is, except to say "don't do it." We of other rites have no need to disrespect or abuse the traditions and customs, the attitudes and mindsets of rites other than our own. We need neither approve nor follow them - but it would surely be contrary to the spirit of Christ's charity to mock them. Of all people, we who have already borne so much ridicele at the hands of others who ought to have known better, should now be the very last to do dhe same. We should remember, we Byzantine Catholics in particular, that the Church, even now, is subject to the direct inspiration of Jesus Christ in His Holy Spirit, and that those things which properly belong to ANY tradition within the Church are as truly inspired as are our own. But that necessarily implies that our traditions, too, are inspired by God, directly and personally. And that they are subject to the guidance of the Holy Spirit working in and through His Church. We have no need to apologize for our traditions, or to defend them. That we can safely leave to Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. Whatever defense we need to offer for our spiritual heritage is amply supplied by our faithful living of them. The only thing we (and the Church as a whole) have need of is that our faith be made manifest in the lives of our people to a world starving for the loving touch of the Hand of God - and the only hands it will see are those we use in the service of our Creator. If the people so beloved by Christ cannot obtain the spiritual substance they require from the storehouses and treasures of one tradition, they ought to be free to turn to one which DOES provide a source of that nourishment; in particular, those who are locked by their own ignorance and lack of familiarity with the love of Christ's Church outside the visible bounds of the Kingdom of Heaven. Next Week: The Nature of the Liturgy in the Catholic Church; similarities between the Liturgy in the Byzantine Rite and the Roman Rite, and a few of the differences. A short sketch of the Liturgy as the re-presentation through symbol of the entire life of Christ, and of the pre-eminence of the Consecration as the actual unbloody event of Calvary itself, taken out of the bounds of space and time, and making us present at the moment when the Kingdom of Heaven was re-opened to mankind. You ought to be very sure you understand that when we speak of "Liturgy" we are NOT speaking of a re- creation, a re-run, a representation which is only symbolic, but that we are speaking of the very sacrifice of Calvary itself, which is now seen in an unbloody fashion; therefore, each and every Divine Liturgy is the very SAME liturgy as that celebrated two thousand years ago in Jerusalem, in Antioch and Thessalonika; a thousand years ago in Alexandria and Constantinople, two days ago in New York City, five hundred years from now in Paris. It is the very SAME sacrifice which, once offered on the Mount of Calvary may in the very near future be offered on planets other than the Earth. So also it is the same Liturgy as that which is celebrated, whatever the ritual surroundings, at different times throughout the entire world, and so brings with it the absolute necessity of uniting ourselves and our intentions with all the liturgies being offered anywhere in the world, of any time and place.