Here's something from someone called the Internet Monk. I think he's from the Reformed Tradition, which makes the monk moniker something of an irony. He suggests that the evangelical world as we know it is falling, and gives ten years of mortification. Christianity Today, always one to avert the disagreeable, takes issue. The rationale for collapse is somewhat familiar.
The Internet Monk suggests that Roman Catholics and the Orthodox will benefit from such a collapse. I take it that he means that there will be refugees from the constant retrogression into gnostic sabellianism or neo-arianism, and they will naturally find their way into more traditional communities.
I do not think so. More likely, religious refugees in the American heterodox milieu will do as they've always done: once entertained, thrice unsustained, permanently disdained. In other words (pardon my cadence), they will lurch into that Sargasso Sea turpitude of "American unaffiliation." You've heard this before: I hate to say I told you so.
I say this not to my Evangelical friends and family, because with them and for them, as the years and the Nicene articles fall by the wayside, I mourn.
I say this instead to Orthodox movers and shakers on the talking head scene, who are busy with distracting hobbies like ecclesiological and architectural innovation (witness this groobliness from the Ochlophobist), gnostic fantasies like Sherrard's special word "lineament," and fetid conspiracies for inclusive ordinations and orientations.
The world is, like, shaking and we're playing mainline spin the bottle.
Shouldn't we be busy enough learning and living the Faith that upholds the Universe? Or do we really believe this? Is it so surprising that the planets dance and the Sun rises in synergy with our participation in the Uncreated Light?
"To the heights, to the heights," St. Gregory Palamas cried at the last, soon after his visitation from the Golden Mouthed One.
He reposed, after he wrestled with a man who denied prayer and asceticism because that man could not screw up enough courage after the psychic onslaught of apophaticism. Barlaam was sighted enough to visit the haunted and terrifying boundaries of the guru darkness of unknowing, and he ran back into the old-shoe familiarities of scholastic cubbyholes. When the abyss is apprehended, and Otto's numinous is felt in daylight nightmares, he chose -- unmanned -- to retreat into syllogisms.
For the prayer of Palamas is the only Christian alternative.
Evangelicals are falling because they rejected Palamas without even knowing him or the terms of the debate. This rejection is what they meant, implicitly, when they insisted that Mary must have married Joseph and had kids with him. They couldn't take the possibility that real, corporeal sainthood is a reality in this present age, where the Kingdom of God is at hand and prayer arises as incense, and the Light, the physical and transphysical, shines on all.
The heresy -- or rather, failure -- of Evangelicalism (and their gnostic degenerate replicant, Pentecostalism) is the rejection of ascesis. Moreso, it is the denial of theosis as a present possibility, and instead, it is the trivialization of salvation as a juridical motion from a divine defense.
Meanwhile we who have the mountain as our ecclesial URL play bingo, complain about hierarchy, and research jesuitical recipes for strict-fast chocolate cake.
I -- and a few other refugees -- came forward, at Just as I Am, to Billy Graham's altar, but I passed by the stage and out the coliseum, and strait through the gate to the three-bar Cross.
Orthodoxy can only be Palamite Orthodoxy, for an America which has outgrown Cane Ridge and all her gnostic revivalists.
"To the heights. To the heights." Indeed, God, yes.