What is the recent lure of Eastern Orthodoxy?

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Wow,

Have you guys actually talked to any of these converts, or are you just spouting off? I personally know several converts to EO - from Baptist, Reformed, and Lutheran backgrounds.

On a social level, the answer is fairly obvious. EO has had virtually no presence in the USA until recent decades. They've just now gotten together some seminaries, a publishing house, and some network, so their influence is just now being felt.

But we're probably talking mostly about personal justifications. Here are some reasons I've heard:

1. Unity - converts to EO generally believe in the ideal of a single church, but don't buy the arguments for papal supremacy

2. Historical Liturgy - Many EO churches still have rites demonstrably similar to ancient (3-5 cent.) rites, thus reinforcing the idea of doctrinal continuity

3. Aesthetic Liturgy - Many converts to EO vigorously deny the "spiritualism" of Calvinism, asserting on incarnational grounds that the material is the proper channel for mediating the spiritual; they see Protestant (Calvinist) worship as bypassing the material and as being overly logo-centric

4. Anthropology/Soteriology - Many converts to EO see the West as being preoccupied with theories of original sin, merit, and consequently justification, and believe that their system of deification manages to avoid this; you might say that the East rejects both sides of the Augustine/Pelagian controversy

Lutherans seem to be getting hit particularly hard. I was talking to a Lutheran to EO convert and he said that at least 12 of his colleagues from seminary (LCMS) went East. Part of this may have been because of a surge of scholarship connecting Luther to certain Greek patristic theologians.

I think postmodernism is way off the mark as an explanation. Many EO's view postmodernity as being a Western problem. Catholics have a history of blaming Protestants for modernism, and the EO's have co-opted that line of argumentation to blame the whole West for the whole mess. Even some Westerners agree. The late Colin Gunton articulated this; see his The One, The Three, and the Many: God, Creation, and the Culture of Modernity. A recent work by an evangelical critiquing this narrative is Bradley Green, Colin Gunton and the Failure of Augustine. I have a published book review in Augustinian Studies.

I think this is accurate. Many that convert to EO do so because of the supposed history, liturgy, church order, mystical elements, theosis, etc. However, much of this can be said for Roman Catholicism. I think what differentiates the EOC from the RCC is the fact that the EOC has remained mainly in the East. As Westerner's look over, they are attracted to the different aspects that the EOC offer over the RCC and Protestantism. Also, the EOC has a different past compared to the RCC. There were no big crusades, there wasn't as much abuse as in the RCC, and for the most part, the EOC was being persecuted as opposed to persecuting others. The ones who are looking for the "ancient church", thinking it's the EOC or RCC, will choose the EOC for the reasons mentioned above.
 
One lure that I can see is its history and tradition. As a Protestant, I often ask myself, "What happened to the Church for all those long years?" and "Where was the Church during that time." Or "Where was the true Church when Rome went astray."
 
Where was the true church when Ahab and Jezebel reigned in Israel? Even Elijah didn't know where to find them, but God assured him that his remnant still was there. If you want to explore a detailed Protestant answer to that question, James Durham takes it up fairly extensively in his commentary on Revelation.
 
I went to one EO service in college (they had a local Greek day, so I went for the baklava....surprised that more do not convert for the awesome food!)....and I was moved by the priest going down into the basement and bringing forth the bible and holding it overhead, and then recounting the persecution of the early church. I was very impressed, until the thick smell of incense started choking me and they started speaking of doing the Mass.
 
But that's the point - you should be able to blame them, because they are setting an experience over doctrine.
I wouldn't say they're necessarily setting it over doctrine so much as allowing it to be an added enticement for those curious, while teaching a different gospel. It is true that experience should not be put above doctrine, but it does not necessarily follow from that that an experience should not at all play into worship (You expect Sunday morning to be worshipful in your church, I assume, as do I).

It doesn't matter whether what one chooses is high-quality aesthetics (perhaps a stellar performance of Verdi's Requiem), individual enjoyment of God's creation, or a worship service that appeals on a number of levels - none of those things have value in comparison with pure doctrine: we are called upon to hear, receive, and hold the truth. Augustine worried that his love for the melodies would distract him from the truth of the word. This is why Christian worship is plain - we don't wish to be distracted by artistic frippery, whether very skilful or wildly incompetent. The aesthetic we are seeking is one of plainness and transparency - to get the aesthetic as much as possible out of the way (it's a circumstance, it's inevitable that there will be an aesthetic element in all human societies and actions), so that the important thing can appear. Aesthetics are extremely far below sound doctrine, spiritual worship, godly living, wise discipline. After all, it is possible to be saved even if one does like country music and Thomas Kinkade.

And nothing that is in violation of the law of Christ can really be considered "Christ-centered".
Setting aside whether or not there is uniform agreement on RPW even among RPW adherents for a moment... if the aesthetic contributes to worship and points to the gospel, is it not a good thing? Surely you wouldn't want a complete lack of aesthetics in church. That one perceives an overemphasis on religious beauty does not mean that the solution is to turn ugly. Even the most stringent adherent to the RPW expects a degree of beauty to the dellivered liturgy, and even in the strictest sense of RPW there is a risk of the ordinaries becoming a distraction. Proper doctrine does not automatically eliminate all temptations to be encountered.
 
I don't think a genuinely spiritual worship is about having a particular kind of emotional/aesthetic experience. That's what the theater is for, and the church is not the theater. Self-denial during the service is quite as worshipful as enthusiastic enjoyment.

You can't have a complete lack of aesthetics: they're common to human actions and societies, and are inevitable. But they are not an element of worship, though too many people seem to have forgotten that. And so, like every circumstance, aesthetics are to be governed by prudence, so that the management of the elements is supported rather than disrupted. If someone goes to church for the lighting, they are either quite insane, or the church is probably doing something excessive with it. If someone goes to church for the temperature regulation and restrooms, they are weird or homeless or both. But we don't think it's at all weird when people go to church for the organ or the stained glass or the show - but we should. That also is circumstance.

The choice is more complex than between ugly and beautiful. First you have to choose between significant and circumstantial - the Reformed choice is circumstantial. Once that choice is made, it is a question of prudence to make sure that the aesthetics are plain, unobtrusive, transparent. Ugliness can be quite obtrusive, so it's probably imprudent in most situations to be positively ugly. But you can't make the aesthetics a matter of significance ("contributes to worship and points to the gospel"); the lighting contributes to worship in that it's uncomfortable to be unable to see, but I would hardly say it points to the gospel.

P.S. - I should clarify that I do understand that an organ is not considered a circumstance by all, and I'm not attempting to weigh in on that; but those who would say that it isn't a circumstance, would definitely agree that one should not go to church for the organ, as it's an illegitimate element.
 
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EO worship is beautiful. The divine liturgy of st John of Chrysostom has been used for 1500 years so there is a certain charm to knowing you are worshipping as early Christians did. I can see the draw.

That said I have looked into Orthodoxy twice and didn't join.

Quite true. This is quite an allure, and I cannot blame people for joining to the extent that there is a real beauty and otherness to the worship. I have been in an EO church, and setting aside the arguments about the second commandment, the entire church has Christ-centered artwork ALL OVER. You cannot look anywhere without seeing a scene from Scripture, similar to the stations of the cross found in Catholic churches. It's visual, it's audio, its sensory (incense). In short, it immerses the worshiper completely in a way that most modern evangelicalism does not. And I'm not going to lie to you... I admire it. While I condemn their distortion of the gospel, which is far too close to Rome's, I can see the draw and attraction. It's saturated with Christendom, and really puts the worshiper in a different frame of mind.

There are some brothels full of pretty women, too.

:applause:
 
The choice is more complex than between ugly and beautiful. First you have to choose between significant and circumstantial - the Reformed choice is circumstantial.

Why do we have to choose? It seems to me that this is one legitimate concern expressed by those who swim the Bosporus. Even just in terms of our liturgy, does the fact that reformed worship is to be simple mean that it should not be poetic and pleasing on an aesthetic level? Or are we to worship with our minds only? We have taken simplicity of worship to mean pragmatism of worship, it seems.

I think the adage here is that form follows function, and the function is to lift our hearts and minds to the worship of God, and so the forms must serve that purpose, even in simplicity. Even if we simply draw our liturgical forms from Scripture, most of the traditional phrasings and usages are drawn from Scripture. Why, if we have them, should we not make use of collects, corporate confessions of sin and of faith which our reformed forbears provided us with?

On a visual level, I confess that I'm not sure what the gripe about visual symbolism (within the bounds of the second commandment) is, exactly. Again, the form follows the function: when you build a church it should look like a church. The fact is that you can't avoid symbolism: if you place the pulpit in the center, that indicates one thing; if the communion table, another.

I remember attending a church housed in a historic building where the leaders had disregarded the original floor plan. The building had a chancel and choir, but the seating had been arranged to face a different wall, where there was room for a worship team, and the pews had been replaced with folding chairs. The symbolism of this rearrangment told me right away where the priorities of this church were. Maybe I've just read too much about semiotics, but I think we should take seriously what our choice of circumstances says about our practical theology. Even your choices about simplicity show what you value in worship. I would argue that it's impossible for your choice (taken as a whole) of circumstances not to be a theological one.
 
The fact is that you can't avoid symbolism: if you place the pulpit in the center, that indicates one thing; if the communion table, another.

I think that assumption needs to be challenged. Why do you assume that a central position is meant to convey a message, rather than as a prudential and practical consideration? I think many criticisms of Reformed approaches fall apart precisely on that score: they attribute significance to something that on a strictly Reformed approach is not significant, it's merely circumstantial. Acoustics are more relevant to the location of a pulpit than aesthetics.

Your aesthetic choices do say something about your theology (though practical realities often mean that they say less than one might think - budget constraints, to be terribly crass, mean that things are often wildly far away from what people would dream of); but our theology should include a clear distinction between art and religion. Spiritual worship can be offered up in any circumstances and any surroundings: insisting that surroundings must be one way and not another (apart from prudential considerations) shows a failure to understand the spirituality of worship.
 
Why do you assume that a central position is meant to convey a message, rather than as a prudential and practical consideration?

Because your practical and prudential considerations reveal your practical theology. Regardless of whether you meant it to convey a message, it still does.

Acoustics are more relevant to the location of a pulpit than aesthetics.

So would you have a problem with a split chancel?

Spiritual worship can be offered up in any circumstances and any surroundings: insisting that surroundings must be one way and not another (apart from prudential considerations) shows a failure to understand the spirituality of worship.

And I would say that failure to realize that physical surroundings affect our worship shows a less-than-adequate understanding of the spirituality of our physical bodies. And prudential considerations may well be theologically significant. If nothing else, they show where our financial priorities lie.

If I place the pulpit at the center and design the acoustics to aid that, I may be simply acting from prudential considerations. But in so doing I am also demonstrating that my understanding of worship has the preaching of the word as its center in a way that a split chancel would not.

You are right that true worship can be offered in many different settings, but does that mean that all settings (leaving aside 2nd commandment issues) are equal? Personally I would rather have a building that would declare the triune God even if it were seized and turned into a mosque. But maybe that's just aesthetic silliness on my part.

But back to the topic at hand, I would still ask what legitimate concerns with reformed churches might lead some to consider EO as an option. Because it seems to me that most criticisms have some legitimate basis even when other factors are in play, and we ought to at least identify those concerns and take them seriously. I don't quite feel qualified to address this position because I don't yet clearly see these concerns, and therefore cannot adequately address the issues.
 
Why do you assume that a central position is meant to convey a message, rather than as a prudential and practical consideration?

Because your practical and prudential considerations reveal your practical theology. Regardless of whether you meant it to convey a message, it still does.
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I am not so sure you can say it conveys a message unless people are insisting on taking it that way. I understand that people these days often do, but am privately of the opinion that this over analysis of circumstantial matters often results in a failure to grasp what was actually said. Circumstantial points are often subject to influences over which we have no control (I accidentally wore green on St. Patrick's day once - I forgot what day it was; I've worn green at other times because my other shirts were in the wash), or are often given very little thought.

But be that as it may, I'm quite fine with the message being conveyed - this is a circumstance, not an element; it doesn't mean anything. Because that is what my practical theology of worship teaches: that I can choose fluorescent or incandescent bulbs indifferently, and if the determining factor is cost, there's nothing wrong with that.

Acoustics are more relevant to the location of a pulpit than aesthetics.

So would you have a problem with a split chancel?
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No.

Spiritual worship can be offered up in any circumstances and any surroundings: insisting that surroundings must be one way and not another (apart from prudential considerations) shows a failure to understand the spirituality of worship.

And I would say that failure to realize that physical surroundings affect our worship shows a less-than-adequate understanding of the spirituality of our physical bodies. And prudential considerations may well be theologically significant. If nothing else, they show where our financial priorities lie.

If I place the pulpit at the center and design the acoustics to aid that, I may be simply acting from prudential considerations. But in so doing I am also demonstrating that my understanding of worship has the preaching of the word as its center in a way that a split chancel would not.

You are right that true worship can be offered in many different settings, but does that mean that all settings (leaving aside 2nd commandment issues) are equal? Personally I would rather have a building that would declare the triune God even if it were seized and turned into a mosque. But maybe that's just aesthetic silliness on my part.
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All settings are equal, from a spiritual standpoint (John 4 kind of makes that point): no place can be called holy to the exclusion or disparagement of another. All settings are not equally convenient or prudent. Holding a service on a tidal flat is unwise, if it can be helped, because the logistics of getting in and out before the tide returns would be quite a hassle. Settings affect what we feel, to some degree; but we don't attend service to feel something particular, an idea which I think is at the root of a lot of church hopping. Of course some feelings are more distracting or disruptive than others, and so it is the part of prudence to avoid nauseating color schemes, for instance, or the odor of formaldehyde. But the idea that "worshipfulness" is a mood or an aesthetic atmosphere should never have gained the traction it has; or having gained that traction, it should have been exploded long ago. If Aldous Huxley and George Steiner can both recognize that being an aesthete is consistent with being a moral monster, we should have the discernment to recognize that grace and art are two distinct gifts. When we lift up our tools to smooth and beautify God's altar, we have defiled it.

But back to the topic at hand, I would still ask what legitimate concerns with reformed churches might lead some to consider EO as an option. Because it seems to me that most criticisms have some legitimate basis even when other factors are in play, and we ought to at least identify those concerns and take them seriously. I don't quite feel qualified to address this position because I don't yet clearly see these concerns, and therefore cannot adequately address the issues.

Reformed churches have many failings. But some criticisms are based on nothing but ignorance, or hostility: witness the defenses Paul had to offer of his calling and ministry to the Galatians and Corinthians.
 
I am not so sure you can say it conveys a message unless people are insisting on taking it that way. I understand that people these days often do, but am privately of the opinion that this over analysis of circumstantial matters often results in a failure to grasp what was actually said.

Except that in this case, where you worship actually does affect how you worship. As Winston Churchill put it, "We shape our buildings. And then, they shape us."

But the idea that "worshipfulness" is a mood or an aesthetic atmosphere should never have gained the traction it has; or having gained that traction, it should have been exploded long ago. If Aldous Huxley and George Steiner can both recognize that being an aesthete is consistent with being a moral monster, we should have the discernment to recognize that grace and art are two distinct gifts.

Indeed they are. However, I believe Bezalel and Oholiab were called upon to beautify the altar. I have heard, in various churches, a call to "prepare our hearts for worship" and I think that this is right. No, worshipping should not be affected by my mood, but it should affect my mood. No, aesthetic appeal may not be a great motivation for worship, but my worship should have aesthetic appeal. Of course these are not the primary reasons for worship, but if I am not in the right mood or not moved by the beauty of the people of God in worship, there's a problem (and yes, it's probably with me).

Reformed churches have many failings. But some criticisms are based on nothing but ignorance, or hostility: witness the defenses Paul had to offer of his calling and ministry to the Galatians and Corinthians.

Granted---but shouldn't criticism be cause for self-examination? My allegiance is to Christ's Church of which the Reformed churches are but one branch, and we should all be willing to listen to other branches and willing to take criticism, even from those who have left us. I'm the last one to compromise my convictions, but I also try to be willing to learn. I've learned that I can't adequately critique a position until I understand it, and that I don't understand it until I see its valid points (because every human position has them).
 
Settings affect what we feel, to some degree; but we don't attend service to feel something particular, an idea which I think is at the root of a lot of church hopping.

I know one gentleman who feels happier in the free-will baptist church because the seats and air conditioning are more "comfy." Very sad but instructive: it shows what might actually happen if a person's aesthetic concerns are regarded as legitimate.
 
Except that in this case, where you worship actually does affect how you worship. As Winston Churchill put it, "We shape our buildings. And then, they shape us."

If that is true, it is true through weakness. I suspect it is not true for many, because they lack the sensitivity to be much influenced by form and heft; and those with aesthetic susceptibility must learn that God is the same in a lofty vault, or an unfortunate inflatable slug of a building. As a child, I used to feel that it was impossible to be a Christian in McAllen, TX - the heat, the parking lots, the restaurants, the whole atmosphere seemed to make it a place unsuited for piety, where I, at least, would have had great difficulty being devout. And yet I found that Whataburger and spending sprees and talk radio notwithstanding, it was also possible in McAllen to read one's Bible, to pray, to go to church and endeavor to improve the means of grace. Perhaps even more remarkable, I found it was possible to read Kate Chopin!

Indeed they are. However, I believe Bezalel and Oholiab were called upon to beautify the altar. I have heard, in various churches, a call to "prepare our hearts for worship" and I think that this is right. No, worshipping should not be affected by my mood, but it should affect my mood. No, aesthetic appeal may not be a great motivation for worship, but my worship should have aesthetic appeal. Of course these are not the primary reasons for worship, but if I am not in the right mood or not moved by the beauty of the people of God in worship, there's a problem (and yes, it's probably with me).
They were, but it was according to the pattern that God showed Moses in the mount. It was not left to their discretion. And in any case, all views of Christian worship must account for the principle of defilement when a human tool is lifted up on God's altar of natural stones. Of course we prepare our hearts for worship: that preparation of the heart is not found in the labour of an age in piled stone, but in a recollection of fundamental facts, as the authority of God's word, the distance from which we have been called, the gracious provision of a Mediator in whom our worship is acceptable, etc. Where that preparation of the heart takes place, can it genuinely be held that the things of this world in the way of our lighting and design will be strangely vivid?

Granted---but shouldn't criticism be cause for self-examination? My allegiance is to Christ's Church of which the Reformed churches are but one branch, and we should all be willing to listen to other branches and willing to take criticism, even from those who have left us. I'm the last one to compromise my convictions, but I also try to be willing to learn. I've learned that I can't adequately critique a position until I understand it, and that I don't understand it until I see its valid points (because every human position has them).
I don't think there is any objection to self-examination. But self-examination must take criticisms offered and evaluate them in the light of God's word, not with a view of how to please men. The human position that Paul was subordinate to the other apostles did not have its valid points. I agree that it is very helpful if we can learn to appreciate what of value is being protected even in an erroneous position, but we must also be on guard against losing what we have already attained - the pressure to do so is often severe, and perhaps in a given congregation never more so than when people leave discontented. That is certainly an opportunity to scrutinize practices and make sure no stumbling blocks are being placed before the flock, and that the ones who are lame are being bound up, the ones turned out of the way being sought, and so forth; but certain preferences cannot be accommodated, no matter the cost.

I know one gentleman who feels happier in the free-will baptist church because the seats and air conditioning are more "comfy." Very sad but instructive: it shows what might actually happen if a person's aesthetic concerns are regarded as legitimate.

I highly appreciated the believers I knew in Panama, where everyone was entirely drenched in sweat almost before the service began, due to the uphill walk to the church building with a metal roof and inadequate ventilation. The only item of any aesthetic value was the view through the glassless windows; but we heard of Christ in that place.
 
It's where you have the lectern on one side of the church and the pulpit on the other.
 
If that is true, it is true through weakness. I suspect it is not true for many, because they lack the sensitivity to be much influenced by form and heft; and those with aesthetic susceptibility must learn that God is the same in a lofty vault, or an unfortunate inflatable slug of a building.

Agreed, but that wasn't exactly my point. My point was that some forms are better than others for worship. You keep implying that if this is true, it is because of weakness, but how are you then not saying that the body which God gave you is a weakness?

The question here is not whether worship in a Gothic Cathedral is truer (or less true) than in a tin shack, but whether the building's construction is to be purely utilitarian. Because if it is, then we might as well go with stadium seating and a stage. After all, it's more convenient, right?

Of course we prepare our hearts for worship: that preparation of the heart is not found in the labour of an age in piled stone, but in a recollection of fundamental facts, as the authority of God's word, the distance from which we have been called, the gracious provision of a Mediator in whom our worship is acceptable, etc.

But aren't certain settings more conducive than others to this? You may consider your embodiment to be a weakness here, but I'm not sure that I do. My mind, it seems to me, is far more distracting than my body.

I agree that it is very helpful if we can learn to appreciate what of value is being protected even in an erroneous position, but we must also be on guard against losing what we have already attained

And I would humbly suggest that the best way to do that is to understand the concern and address it.

...still trying to figure out what a "split chancel" is......

It's when you have the communion table in the center, the pulpit on one side, and a lecturn on the other.
 
Split chancel

...still trying to figure out what a "split chancel" is......

SOMEBODY CALL A DOCTOR!
Historically in Roman Catholic, Anglican and Lutheran Churches, the Lectern is on the Epistle side and the Pulpit is on the Gospel side, with the alter on the wall in the middle. Vatican II ended that for Roman Catholics. Liberal Episcopalians and Lutherans trotted right along behind the RC like puppy dogs.
The arrangement of the sanctuary is entirely different in Eastern Orthodox and other Eastern Rite Churches.
 
Agreed, but that wasn't exactly my point. My point was that some forms are better than others for worship. You keep implying that if this is true, it is because of weakness, but how are you then not saying that the body which God gave you is a weakness?

The question here is not whether worship in a Gothic Cathedral is truer (or less true) than in a tin shack, but whether the building's construction is to be purely utilitarian. Because if it is, then we might as well go with stadium seating and a stage. After all, it's more convenient, right?

The body which God gave me is a weakness at the present time - not in itself, but accidentally, on account of the corruption of sin. But that issue is a red herring. The distinction between elements and circumstances is what is vital to the discussion. God has commanded worship: he has not, in this age, commanded that worship be performed in a certain place, but has instead told us that place is indifferent. Now since we take up space, we must have a defined place and time for worship. But the type of building has no more significance than the time of day. We might set a meeting at 9:00 a.m. so as to be finished in good time for lunch; in view of the time required to travel to church, we might set it at 11:00 a.m. There's no symbol buried in the time. And if we are thinking clearly, there's no symbol buried in the place.

The worship of God executed with our bodies is not by bringing a certain catharsis to our passions, but by using our ears and brains to heed the word of God, our tongues and brains to enunciate his praise, our hands and brains to serve him in his people and in the needy, etc.

A church can meet in a movie theater, on a riverbank, in a stadium, in a house. Size and circumstances will largely dictate what happens, and presumably the elders will exercise Christian prudence in ordering circumstances to best support edification in their particular situation. While things are conducted decently and in order, and while the elements God has commanded and no others are employed, I'm not sure what there is to be criticized.

But aren't certain settings more conducive than others to this? You may consider your embodiment to be a weakness here, but I'm not sure that I do. My mind, it seems to me, is far more distracting than my body.

Certainly. A frozen lake during a blizzard (or a thaw!) is much more distracting than a climate-controlled training room. But I suspect that is not what you were after. To be forthright, I don't think the rather splendid Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City is better for worship than an uncomfortable camp-building in Kentucky. While climate control, suitable lighting, and comfortable surroundings have their advantages over stiff chairs and nasty draughts, ultimately the trappings in Bellas Artes are far more likely to let me delude myself into thinking I'm worshipping the Lord when I'm actually just having an emotional massage. I have sat in a church and floated with rapturous joy while a penetrating Baroque duet went on between the piano and the organ (a visiting minister from Trinidad and Tobago once commented that listening to the music he felt like he was in heaven); but I have come to realize that this was not properly worship, anymore than it was properly worship when the singing of Ramón Vargas performing in the open air made me forget the red plastic chair beneath me and the great unwashed around me; or anymore than it was properly worship when I was so engaged with the choir I didn't see the soprano rise to her feet and the first notes of "I know that my Redeemer liveth" caught me entirely by surprise and gave me a radical case of goosebumps.

And I would humbly suggest that the best way to do that is to understand the concern and address it.
That is only part of it. Criticism provides an occasion for reflection; not an agenda for change. That agenda must come from scrutiny of God's word. If we feel that the departure of someone always reflects a deficiency on our part, we shall be quite unstable and vacillating: in no way better off than if we smugly took for granted that all criticism or any departures stemmed from the moral or intellectual failings of the criticizing or departing party.
 
Now since we take up space, we must have a defined place and time for worship. But the type of building has no more significance than the time of day. We might set a meeting at 9:00 a.m. so as to be finished in good time for lunch; in view of the time required to travel to church, we might set it at 11:00 a.m. There's no symbol buried in the time. And if we are thinking clearly, there's no symbol buried in the place.

I'm sorry, but yes there is. If you build your church in a strip-mall, you are sending a message. It may be unintentional, but it is there nonetheless. That's not to say that God can't be worshipped there or that other considerations may trump that message, but we should be aware of it all the same.

The worship of God executed with our bodies is not by bringing a certain catharsis to our passions, but by using our ears and brains to heed the word of God, our tongues and brains to enunciate his praise, our hands and brains to serve him in his people and in the needy, etc.

Yet worship is with the heart and in the Spirit. If I have all these things but no heart for worship, what is it then? I don't worship with my brain only, but with my heart, soul, mind, and strength.

That is only part of it. Criticism provides an occasion for reflection; not an agenda for change. That agenda must come from scrutiny of God's word. If we feel that the departure of someone always reflects a deficiency on our part, we shall be quite unstable and vacillating: in no way better off than if we smugly took for granted that all criticism or any departures stemmed from the moral or intellectual failings of the criticizing or departing party.

So shouldn't we address the concern? Is it possible that our liturgies could be made richer without ceasing to be in accordance with God's Word? Absolutely we should scrutinize God's Word---but the fact is that the Scriptures have precious little to say on how we should follow the elements of worship. Decency and orderliness dictate that there should be some regularity in our worship practices, but even so there is, it seems to me, a great deal of freedom within the regulative principle.
 
Historically in Roman Catholic, Anglican and Lutheran Churches, the Lectern is on the Epistle side and the Pulpit is on the Gospel side, with the alter on the wall in the middle. Vatican II ended that for Roman Catholics. Liberal Episcopalians and Lutherans trotted right along behind the RC like puppy dogs.
The arrangement of the sanctuary is entirely different in Eastern Orthodox and other Eastern Rite Churches.
Without derailing the conversation, I never knew what that is called but that is the way our church (originally a baptist church) was originally designed. Our Pastor generally preaches from the middle though using a music stand, but he still uses the taller pulpit side for on occasion some readings and the call to worship.
 
I'm sorry, but yes there is. If you build your church in a strip-mall, you are sending a message. It may be unintentional, but it is there nonetheless. That's not to say that God can't be worshipped there or that other considerations may trump that message, but we should be aware of it all the same.

I disagree with you for more than one reason, but take simply this obvious one. Everyone is limited by their budget and by zoning regulations. If a church meets in a strip mall that might say something about their priorities; or it may simply say something about their possibilities. But hopefully we are not at the point of judging a church by the resources it commands, or the city in which it is located.

Yet worship is with the heart and in the Spirit. If I have all these things but no heart for worship, what is it then? I don't worship with my brain only, but with my heart, soul, mind, and strength.

Worship is in Spirit and in truth. It is intellectual and volitional, embracing the whole man, because intellection happens through the physical organs and volitions are executed in and by the body. But our frame can be, and often is, uncooperative: it is not our frame that makes worship acceptable. Listen to John Newton:

If the Lord is pleased to keep us short of those comforts which he has taught us to prize, and, instead of lively sensations of joy and praise, we feel a languor and deadness of spirit, provided we do indeed feel it, and are humbled for it, we have no need to give way to despondency or excessive sorrow. Still the foundation of our hope, and the ground of our abiding joys, is the same. And the heart may be as really alive to God, and grace as truly in exercise, when we walk incomparative darkness and see little light, as when the frame of our spirits is more comfortable. Neither the reality nor the measure of grace can be properly estimated by the degree of our sensible comforts. Your experiences will vary, but his love and promises are always unchangeable.

Or read C.S. Lewis. In his letters and in Christian Reflections he says quite a lot of what I'm saying here.

So shouldn't we address the concern? Is it possible that our liturgies could be made richer without ceasing to be in accordance with God's Word? Absolutely we should scrutinize God's Word---but the fact is that the Scriptures have precious little to say on how we should follow the elements of worship. Decency and orderliness dictate that there should be some regularity in our worship practices, but even so there is, it seems to me, a great deal of freedom within the regulative principle.

I'm afraid your exegetical skills far exceed my own if you can go from my statement that there is more than one way to err in response to criticism to the conclusion that we should not respond to concerns people bring up. The response to a concern might well be an attempt at further instruction rather than an adaptation of practice: that doesn't mean the concern hasn't been heard or understood. The leap from that point to liturgical freedom is not quite clear to me - I don't recall saying anything about number of Scripture readings or at what point the sermon takes place. This side discussion started when I responded to admiration for artwork and incense. My general thesis is that art is not religion, and should not be confused with it: since aesthetics are an inevitable circumstance of human gatherings, the prudent goal is then an aesthetic of transparency: an aesthetic that does not call attention to itself, that does not pretend to have significance, or to be somehow more related to worship than circumstances of time, comfort, or convenience. Just as I would not like to make the furnace a matter of significance (or even very much prominence in the worship service), so I would rather it not be the architecture, music, or atmosphere of the church that draws people in. I realize you can't control that, and people sometimes get purely aesthetic kicks out of very odd things; but prudence dictates that no circumstance be so managed as to become a focal point, because Christ should so be the focal point and attraction that if someone is drawn in by something else it testifies to very great and obtuse oddness on their part.
 
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This side discussion started when I responded to admiration for artwork and incense. My general thesis is that at is not religion, and should not be confused with it...

Ruben, the Bible does treat visible representations (even when they are not images of God Himself) and incense as elements of worship. We see both strictly regulated in Scripture (For representations, Ex 25:18-20, Ex 26:31; For incense, Ex 30:1-9 and 30-37, Lev 10). Neither are allowed in New Covenant worship, as they are not commanded to be done.
 
the prudent goal is then an aesthetic of transparency: an aesthetic that does not call attention to itself, that does not pretend to have significance, or to be somehow more related to worship than circumstances of time, comfort, or convenience.

And I would argue then that this goal is not achievable. Art is not religion. But neither is its absence.

prudence dictates that no circumstance be so managed as to become a focal point, because Christ should so be the focal point and attraction that if someone is drawn in by something else it testifies to very great and obtuse oddness on their part.

So Ruben, are you saying that if two churches have exactly the same draw for me in terms of biblical teaching and patterns of worship, that my criteria for choosing between them would be obtuse and odd? To me this seems to be a strange conclusion, given that we end up where we end up through a variety of circumstances, none of which are entirely logical and may strike others as odd.

Worship is in Spirit and in truth. It is intellectual and volitional, embracing the whole man, because intellection happens through the physical organs and volitions are executed in and by the body. But our frame can be, and often is, uncooperative: it is not our frame that makes worship acceptable.

And neither is it our mind that makes worship acceptable: it is the Spirit working through heart, soul, mind, and strength.

I think on the EO question, to a certain degree we have to pre-empt the discussion before it even gets to that point. If someone is exploring Eastern Orthodoxy, we should first encourage him to become familiar with the reformed confessions and reformed understandings of worship, we have to show him how to worship.

I disagree with you for more than one reason, but take simply this obvious one. Everyone is limited by their budget and by zoning regulations. If a church meets in a strip mall that might say something about their priorities; or it may simply say something about their possibilities. But hopefully we are not at the point of judging a church by the resources it commands, or the city in which it is located.

I certainly wouldn't. But if we don't have to meet in a catacomb why should we? I would consider it very odd for a church to choose a catacomb over a (simple) gothic structure if it has the resources for the latter.
 
The lure to Eastern Orthodoxy seems to be the reverence and transcendence in worship,as opposed to much of the glib,light and airy "worship"in modern Evangelical congregations.
 
The thread now seems to be veering off into church architecture.

Serving in a very poor country, I often wonder if EO could ever gain a foothold in these areas that cannot afford elaborate buildings, robes, icons, etc.

Also, I am suspicious of any sect which requires of its members to adopt a certain culture as well. That is the great error of Islam; to be a good Muslim, one must more and more become more like an Arab.

Likewise, I have noticed among converts to EO or Russian Orthodoxy (and I'd love to discuss those differences as well) that they seem to gain an appreciation of Greek or Russian Cultures and often go beyond a mere appreciation and begin to admire the cultures in which these sects took root. Of course, it might be the same here with the admirers of the puritans.
 
the prudent goal is then an aesthetic of transparency: an aesthetic that does not call attention to itself, that does not pretend to have significance, or to be somehow more related to worship than circumstances of time, comfort, or convenience.

And I would argue then that this goal is not achievable. Art is not religion. But neither is its absence.

Philip, the hassles of life and preparations for upcoming commitments mean my time is limited, so this will be my last reply: besides, as Pergamum notes, we have gone a little off topic. You say here in part what I have been saying all along: aesthetics are a circumstance, because they are common to human societies and actions. Being a circumstance they are, by definition, not an element of worship: as such, their importance is strictly subordinate, and how the inevitable aesthetics are deployed is a matter of prudence. It oversteps the line to make them meaningful or symbolic, just as it would if someone suggested that 11:00 was intrinsically an holy hour because many worship services start at that time. They may well reveal something about the psychology of the congregation, or at least of the elders, though that sort of psychological deduction should not be pressed very far. But just as it is the part of prudence that we ever bear in mind the subordinate place of aesthetic concerns in our worship, so it is also prudent that in what we say or telegraph about them we should not elevate them too high.

So Ruben, are you saying that if two churches have exactly the same draw for me in terms of biblical teaching and patterns of worship, that my criteria for choosing between them would be obtuse and odd? To me this seems to be a strange conclusion, given that we end up where we end up through a variety of circumstances, none of which are entirely logical and may strike others as odd.

You haven't said what your criteria are, so I'm not sure how I'm being taken as expressing an opinion on that. I'm not sure I buy that there ever exists the hypothetical scenario of all other things being equal. But we do not have to wait for that, at least, desperately rare situation to occur: at the present time there are many people moving from one church to another, in some cases going from sounder doctrine, purer worship, and more regular discipline to less well-ordered churches for reasons of aesthetics or some other circumstantial consideration which should not have so much weight with them.

And neither is it our mind that makes worship acceptable: it is the Spirit working through heart, soul, mind, and strength.

You have a curious habit of contradicting things no one has asserted. With regard to what makes worship acceptable, I suspect you need to delve into the topic in more depth. You have mentioned the Spirit, yet omitted mention of the Mediator who alone makes our persons or our works acceptable. The manner of the Spirit's working must also be considered: the Spirit is not to be divided from the word.

I think on the EO question, to a certain degree we have to pre-empt the discussion before it even gets to that point. If someone is exploring Eastern Orthodoxy, we should first encourage him to become familiar with the reformed confessions and reformed understandings of worship, we have to show him how to worship.

The great pre-emption of the discussion is not to tell him, or even attempt to show him, that Reformed worship offers a better experience. What people experience from aesthetic stimuli varies wildly according to their sensitivity and background. Obviously some people get deeply involved and feel wonderfully moved by things that give me a migraine. In choosing a church, attention must be directed to the marks of a church, and nothing is more important in that regard than the preservation of sound doctrine concerning the mode by which God is truly worshipped, and the source from which salvation is to be sought.

I certainly wouldn't. But if we don't have to meet in a catacomb why should we? I would consider it very odd for a church to choose a catacomb over a (simple) gothic structure if it has the resources for the latter.
I didn't say we should: I said if prudence dictated that meeting place, our worship was neither better nor worse on account of it.

Tyler, I never said that visual representations or incense were not elements of worship. I took occasion from someone speaking about aesthetic attraction to worship to comment on the broader phenomenon, because the inevitable aesthetics of our worship are, of course, circumstantial.
 
Aesthetically EO is the most beautiful religion on earth, visually and audibly. A lot of people are convinced - and I see reasons for this - that institutionally, the EO church HAS the oldest lineage and that the Roman church broke from them, not vice versa, so you have age and the "ancient" ceremonies. So you have the emotional appeal and the intellectual appeal.

However, the liturgies HAVE changed over the centuries, and EO has run from its first love as Rome has.
 
The great pre-emption of the discussion is not to tell him, or even attempt to show him, that Reformed worship offers a better experience.

I'll just respond to this: of course not. The goal is to show him that worship is not about an experience, but about glorifying the Triune God in the proper way because it is our duty and our joy. And if he does not yet take joy in meeting with the people of God to worship in Spirit and in truth, then the church needs to come alongside and guide him to the place where he can do so. As God reveals Himself as Father through the Son by the Spirit, so we are to worship the Father through the Son by the Spirit.
 
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