An Orthodox priest I had the pleasure of meeting and hearing late last year was Father Stephen Freeman. He is an Orthodox priest serving in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, at St. Anne’ parish. His website is called “Glory to God For all Things.” He has written a series of blogs in the last several months around the topic of morality and an Orthodox Christian’s understanding/relationship to being a “moral person.” This is a link to his blog entited “The Un-Moral Christian” http://blogs.ancientfaith.com/glory2godforallthings/2014/12/17/un-moral-christian/ In my opinion, much good thought and discussion has transpired as a result of his thoughts. What follows is my addition to the mix.
“Human being are not first of all moral or immoral: we are dead. We inherited from Adam–all of us, including the Blessed Theotokos—the wound of mortality, and now, though we exist on planet earth, we are actually more like the “spiritually walking dead.” Our wound just hasn’t physically caught up with us yet.
Corpses have no interest in “progressively improving their state of being.” Corpses never ask each other “Are you doing any better today?” or confess to each other “Man, I really blew it today” (as opposed to how well I did yesterday.) If a corpse has any grasp of his true state, his only concern will be for some one or some thing to remove his death from him, to actually make him alive. And hence Satan who “holds the power of death,” is ready to ply us with his abundant smorgasbord of “death defying treats.” Often at the top of the list are drugs and alcohol. But in America, shopping, eating, fantasizing, working, texting, web-surfing, fornicating, intellectualizing, moralizing, religious proselytizing, saving-the-planet-izing, NFL season-izing, etc. ad nauseum. Because yes, death does make even the most “morally advanced” among us sick.
Our magnificent created world, which even in spite of pollution and natural tragedies such as tsunamis and tornadoes, etc., still shows forth the footprints and glory of our Creator and God. But in another sense, it is our cemetery, and we all groan because of this Adamic wound of our mortality. Our inner self, our spirit/soul, is born dead, our bodies will sooner or later join us in the grave.
In Romans 7, St. Paul, after candidly expressing how fractured his will and intentions to do good are, cries out from his own depths of darkness: “Who will deliver us from this body of death?” Thanks be to God for Christ Who is our Resurrection and our Life. “He who lives and believes in Me shall never die.” St. Isaac the Syrian reminds us that this life on earth, in our cemetery, is given to us for repentance, and everything else we do is a vain pursuit. Like trying to “improve” our moral state.
Thinking that we are called to be moral paragons, and to continually progress toward some ideal of moral perfection, is a thought belonging to dead people who believe doing so will make them alive. Of this sincere but misguided belief, I need to repent daily because “Only God is Good.” A dead person who attempts to improve his state of being, whether atheist, agnostic, or a sincere and gentle Bible-believing Christian, will inevitably bump up against the “sin which indwells us,” the bitter fruit of our mortality. These efforts offer little to combat our strongest enemy, Death.
The sin mindset and all our attempts to remedy it will inevitably invite comparisons. Someone has rightly said that “all comparisons are odious,” whether comparisons within ourselves (yesterday, or last year’s Lent compared to “how I’m doing in this year’s Fast”), or much more insidious, comparisons to “others.”
Mr. Pharisee was so thankful he wasn’t like all those moral losers around him. His “death-sourced blindness” elicited Christ’s sternest rebukes, because a moral focus can easily blind us from seeing our Savior standing right in front of us. “I didn’t come for those who are righteous . . .”
This recognition of our deadness is essential to understanding Christ’s command: “Do not let your right hand know what your left hand is doing.” When we give alms or do other good deeds, we are at risk if our reason to do so is our desire to please God by improving our moral state. So if we stop, even for a split second, to reflect on how we have just performed, we will be rewarded: accolades and praise from dead folks.
I’m reminded of the story of the wise abbot who told his novice to go out to the cemetery and spend the entire day praising and lauding the dead in their graves. The novice did so, and the next day the abbot told him to spend the coming day cursing and condemning those same dead people. Which he faithfully did. When he returned, the abbot asked him how the dead responded to him both days. His response was essentially, it didn’t affect them in any way whatsoever. The abbot replied “Then go and become like them”
As an addictions counselor, I am reminded of the blessing I have been given by God to work with folks who, in some dark corner of their slavery to alcohol or drugs, KNOW without a doubt that they are dead, that all of their boot-strapping attempts to stay clean are futile and breed a cynical despair. Of such Jesus said that many of them will enter the Kingdom of God before the religious of the world. Knowing and experiencing that we are utterly dead is the first step to look for and desire the empty tomb of our healing.
Many of my clients struggle to “be a better person.” Their “confessions” to me as their counselor often include something like this: “I know my addiction has taken over my life, and I feel so terrible that I’ve abandoned my children, I’ve burned all my bridges, and wasted the opportunities I’ve had in life to better myself. . . but I’m really a good person… really, I know I’m a good mom…” “please don’t think bad of me.”
In many cases their fellow corpses, i.e. sober family or friends, have blindly judged them to be “bad, a terrible person, you don’t even care about your kids” and on and on. Because I am kind to them and willing to listen to their stories, they often feel a need to convince me (their fellow corpse) that they’re really not all that – morally – bad.
In that work context, I am not permitted to overtly proclaim Christ as the Resurrection, the true path to freedom and healing. But as Fr. Stephen has pointed out, God is so humble that He will bring His healing power to any and all who “turn their life and their will over to the care of God as we understand Him” (Step Three). My blessing is to work with and listen to my fellow corpses. Even though by God’s grace I haven’t chosen a “drug of choice” to be my “resurrection,” I have many other things, addictions, from which Christ alone can and does save me if I seek Him with my whole heart.
My sincere but misguided upbringing in a low-church Protestant denomination strongly formed me to believe the following narrative of how to be a disciple. It goes something like this: Once I come to Christ and accept Him as my Lord and Savior, I’m to sincerely live “the Christian life” (be moral, be good) each day. The blueprint for this new life in Christ is fully and solely the Bible, primarily understood as The Rule book, the road map for proper behavior. If I’m a good Christian, I will “prove” I am worthy of Christ’s love for me. My “good works” will show my faith, and demonstrate that I’m not “crucifying Christ again.” The more I “grow” as a Christian, the more I will become a better and better person . . . especially compared to all the “enemies of Christ” in our society. Because of course, often in subtle ways, I’m always comparing. I am measuring myself, measuring my progress, “seeing whether I’ve been naughty or nice.” Which leads to being so disappointed in myself when I sin, or can’t seem to overcome certain bad habits.
This understanding of our life as Christians will ultimately bring no respite from our deepest needs, no healing oil to the ancient wound of our mortality. It can easily blind us to God’s true salvation, which is not to make “bad” people good, but to make dead people alive. God desires to open the eyes of our hearts to see and desire union with Christ as life itself, as everything central to our calling to grow into the likeness of God.
So if we are not attempting to “make progress” in the moral life, how then shall we live? We live in sacramental union with our Risen Lord, our True and Only Vine, our Lord Who is Life, Who is our Head and we are His body, the one holy catholic and apostolic church. This begins with our Baptism – our mystical union of our death with His death. “Do you unite yourself to Christ” we are asked 3 times at our initiation. And this question must remain with us minute by minute, hour by hour, temptation by temptation.
Holy Confession therefore isn’t about how I have “improved on” or relapsed back from by moral journey since my last confession. It seems to me it is the sacrament where I have an opportunity to “come clean” about my love affair with death, and in so doing, be cleansed from that death and its disease, sin. I admit those times when I have “in knowledge or in ignorance” failed to trust and unite myself to Christ in this world of deathly pleasures. “I know I am dead, oh Master, and I ask your forgiveness for not relying on You as my only Truth and Life.”
St. Paul exhorts us to remember each day that “We are His (the Risen One’s) workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them” (Eph. 2:10). Remembering that “we can do nothing” apart from Christ, as in nada, nyet, no way, we learn to discern what life-creating, not morality-improving, works God our Father has prepared for us to synergize with. That which we see Christ doing, we do by the power of His Spirit and nothing in and of ourselves for we are corpses.
And we look for Christ wherever He may be found. He has not hidden Himself from us, but tells us clearly that we unite ourselves to Him in every one who is hungry, naked, lonely, sad, bitter, incarcerated, addicted, etc., for that is where He chooses to be. We bear one another’s burdens in order to fulfill the law of Christ. St. John Chrysostom says “the rich in this world are given for the benefit of the poor, but the poor are given for the salvation of the rich.”
A death-defined life makes efforts to improve its state by judging, comparing, excusing, justifying, isolating, and rushing after every illusion of the devil. A Christ-centered, Resurrection-defined life makes efforts to never forget we are corpses except for the grace of the Risen One, and as dead people, we more and more see the utter futility of judging, comparing, excusing, justifying, isolating and partaking even further of sin’s soul deadening powers. What shall it profit the most morally advanced human in this or any age if he loses his soul?
Randy Evans, a begging corpse, hoping in the Resurrection and Blessed Theosis