the anaphora and civil government
Yesterday was the first Lenten Sunday, and once again we were able to celebrate the beautiful Liturgy of St Basil, which is so rich in theology, pastoral wisdom, and sacred social ethics.
I love the long pastoral supplications after the Epiclesis, during the singing of the lovely "In you, O woman full of grace." This prayer outlines the pastoral theology of the Church in a nutshell: it forms our concerns and establishes our institutional and cultural priorities.
And it, too, says something about government -- even politics, if you will: "Remember, O Lord, this nation and her civil authorities, those who serve in the government and the armed forces. Grant them a secure and lasting peace; speak good things in their hearts concerning Your Church and all Your people, so that we, in their tranquility, may lead a calm and peaceful life in all godliness and sanctity."
When I pray this, I am thankful for our democracy, for a society that values the freedom and dignity and well-being of its common people. And I’m sure that for some, this sounds patently untraditional.
authentic and inauthentic tradition
Yesterday we honored authentic Holy Tradition. Looking back at the history of elaboration, translation, and application of the same Apostolic Proclamation to varied times and places and peoples, it is clear that some things have been added to or associated with Tradition that are not authentic.
There are cultural and ethnic and local customs, of course. These additions we can celebrate, like the "little t" tradition as opposed to the "capital T" elements (e.g., the ingredients of an Easter Basket, even the Easter Basket itself vs the Paschal Canon).
These are, in the main, good additions.
But there are bad ones. Many, if not most, of these are ideologies that actually distort and displace true theology. Obviously, racism and anti-Semitism have appeared in Church history to our great regret and distress. Nationalism is the heresy of phyletism writ large and so pervasive that its heretical nature is obscured by its over-familiarity.
And I don't know what to call an alarming tendency to actively promote, in outright partisanship, autocracy over democracy. Previously, this was known as monarchism, and there are some who look back on the times of the Caesars, Tsars, and Kings with nostalgia as if an autocrat would make things better for the church.
Today, there is not so much a wish for a King (like the Israelites in the book of Judges) as there is an admiration for the current crop of "Strong Men" in geo-politics. Somehow, these figures are associated with a more moral and Christian society, and more promising of State support for the Church.
Of course, there is little to substantiate such wishes. "Strong Men" always disappoint and generally turn monstrous (if they hadn't always been that way already). As my ordaining bishop, +Metropolitan Nicholas of blessed memory, used to say frequently of Russia's Putin, "Once KGB, always KGB."
It would be unbelievable that the Russian Strong Man has gained such popularity were it not the plain fact.
Still, I don't think some American Orthodox and rightwing fans of Putin really want Putin. If they had to live under him, they wouldn’t like him. And people who pine away for monarchs of the “good old days” would probably not enjoy living under a monarch.
This is true of all strong men and autocrats. It is also true of that sentimental yearning for different times and places. Neo-integralists (and others) seem to long for the Christendom of the medieval past: but really, who wants to live in a time when one’s attire was regulated by sumptuary laws, or when all the eggs had to be given to the priest (to name just two of so many onerous medievalities)?
contradictions of complaint
The fact is, Christians of certain ideological bents (rightwing, fundamentalist, neo-traditionalist, rigorist, et al) might oppose modernism and secularism all they want, but when no one’s looking, they actually enjoy it more than they let on. Everyone loves their smartphone and their social media. Everyone wants the chance to be a libertine.
Secularism and modernism are favorite objects of religious complaint. There are, to be sure, numerous challenges and difficulties posed by these terms. In general, religion and community seem to have weakened. Creation -- especially its meaningfulness -- has been obscured by commodification. Ethics and mores have been displaced by values.
But complaints about modernism and secularism are fraught with contradiction. Religious figures who are suspected of being too modern or too secular (or at least, not sufficiently bothered) are called “liberal” or “accommodationist.” These terms, particularly, are perilous. “Accommodationist” can mean an attitude that is too yielding to modern departures from traditional morality. But it can, and does, also mean an acceptance of technology (and morality) of convenience.
The consumption of single-use plastics is a familiar example of an “accommodationist” practice that is intrinsically “liberal.” It adopts the univocal, globalized commodification of Nature that is fundamental to liberal society. If you subscribe to laissez-faire capitalism, you are -- historically speaking -- a tried and true Liberal. This may be discomfiting to those who reserve this term as a pejorative for those who transgress dogma and morality.
The contradictions of religious complaint are rife, and they are sadly unnoticed or disregarded (especially if one is in the grip of an ideology). Anti-modernists welcome some forms of modernism with open arms. Anti-secularists usually deny any possibility of Christian socialism or environmentalism. Neo-traditionalists attempt to construct a consistent, inerrant reading of all the Fathers all at once, but deliberately disregard or dismiss patristic texts that digress from constructs of ecclesiology and especially eschatology.
demands of democracy
There is one complaint, however, that remains consistent. It is an unspoken complaint. I suspect that the consistent reason why there is spoken admiration for autocrats is really because of a deep-seated, unconfessed contempt for democracy.
Democracy (and yes, I know that America is a constitutional federal republic) makes demands on its citizens that some Christians do not like, and are unwilling to fulfill. Democracy demands religious disestablishment and an acceptance of religious pluralism. America was founded upon the premise that it is not a Christian nation (George Washington himself wrote this), and that religions will have to “make it on their own” without any help from the State -- no mandate, no money, no political support.
Democracy, thus, demands secularism. There can be a sort of minimalistic “public religion” (versus “civil religion”) with a vague reference to “Providence” in some civic language (e.g., “In God we trust,” “God bless America,” “one nation under God”), but nothing that specifically endorses a certain “sect.” In general, democracy accepts, in practice, the “immanent frame” that Charles Taylor describes as the real and unavoidable basis of modern society.
Democracy demands individual rights and freedoms. Yes, the language of “rights” is not found explicitly in Christian Tradition. However, it is a consequence of the Christian witness to society. It can be said with much justification that much of liberalism itself is a consequence of this Christian witness. Universal health care, welfare, debt forgiveness, racial and social justice are deeply associated with “liberalism,” and are just as inconceivable without the presence of the Church in history.
But democracy demands a “laissez-faire” attitude from Christians toward the freedoms of others. This presents hard difficulties, as some of these “freedoms of others” conflict with deeply held convictions in Tradition. The issue of abortion comes first to mind in this regard, and Christians do not have, in a democracy, the advantage of legislating their moral convictions as law.
Still, one must also appreciate the opportunities presented to the church by a democratic, secular, modern society. Disestablishment itself is an opportunity. Collusion with the State -- especially the use of State-imposed religious coercion -- is toxic to the Church (and to the State). Such collusion insinuates into the Church a strain of power and wealth-protection that is alien to the essence of the Body of Christ.
The constant development of civil rights and social justice, as much as they are despaired of, actually serve to protect the interests of the Church. They echo the “personalist” theology of Holy Tradition, in which every person is valued and treated as Christ Himself (as said in the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats). Even though the execution of civil justice is marked by error, contradiction, and occasionally bad intent, what remains as a certainty is that a society that does not even express concern for individual rights is a society inimical to the Church. A governmental structure that upholds “equal justice under the law” and the “rule of law” (versus the “law of the ruler”) is far more humane in its treatment of the poor and the oppressed. And this reversal of the old tradition of power and violence should be welcomed by the Church that has enshrined kenosis and peace in its very DNA, its Scripture and Tradition.
Democracy demands courage of the Christian community. It demands a renunciation of power and a refusal of coercion. It demands a nobility of spirit that recognizes the humanity of all others, a nobility that insists upon the humane, just, and compassionate treatment of all others. It demands gentleness in action and meekness in speech. Christians should be the first to oppose all forms of "hate speech" as the inhumane, anti-Christological thing it is.
It demands of the Christian community that it practices what it was in the beginning and should have always been -- a community that feeds the hungry, that gives water to the thirsty, that gives clothing and shelter to the homeless, that gives dignity to the oppressed and rejected, that gives liberty and freedom to those imprisoned in category, in stereotype, in systemic and institutional abuse.
These demands are obscured and “disregardable” in other government structures. In an autocracy, a monarchy, or in a church that’s been denatured by power and wealth and customary status, the Christian community was able to set aside these demands.
But democracy exposes -- for all to see, unavoidably -- the press of humanity upon the Body of Christ.
And that’s a good thing.