Bogoslovlje-KJV1611

Theron Mathis is an unassuming, soft-spoken man in his thirties with a winsome manner and a pleasant smile. His story begins in the buckle of the Bible belt. Both he and his wife grew up in a conservative Baptist churches, his wife’s being Landmarkist in theology (meaning it holds the belief that the Baptist Church is the only true church.) He attended college at Liberty University, a hub for Christianity that leans right both theologically and politically. He attended two Southern Baptist seminaries (Southeastern and Southern) in the late 1990’s, and at one point, felt called to be a Baptist preacher.

“What was the first thing that triggered your attraction to Orthodoxy?” I asked. Theron looks puzzled, as if he’s trying to recall what initially made him curious. After a few moments of silence, he answers: “Church history. Studying the patristics.” Frustrated by constant debates over the meaning of Scripture, Theron decided to look back into church history to see what the church looked like in the early centuries. As he read the church fathers, he realized, “the church back then looked different than the Baptist church I grew up in.” From there, Theron began wondering if that early church he saw in the fathers’ writings still existed anywhere.

Eventually, one central issue brought him to the doorstep of the Eastern Orthodox church. “The issue of authority,” he explains. “I felt I was flying by the seat of my pants as a Christian. I would read Scripture and come to conclusions myself. At some point, I felt I had to submit myself to some authority outside of myself.”

The issue of authority led Theron to question the Reformation doctrine of sola scriptura. “I felt like with sola scriptura, I was the authority.” Shortly thereafter, Theron came to see sola scriptura as deficient. “Once I reached that point, it was a fast track. That’s the house of cards. At that point, I had to find another authority.”

“Why Eastern Orthodoxy and not Catholicism?” I ask, wondering why he would choose the Orthodox church as his authority and not the Roman Catholic church. Theron tells me he couldn’t swallow the whole “pope thing,” especially papal infallibility. Nor could he stomach the arrogance of the Roman Catholic church in adjusting the Nicene Creed without the consent of the Eastern church. “The typical Orthodox apologetics,” he grins.

With the Eastern Orthodox Church as his new authority, Theron began accepting doctrines foreign to his Baptist background. “How hard was it to accept these doctrines?” I ask, beginning to read a list.

Praying to saints? Easier than expected, once he understood the Orthodox view of the saints interceding for us much like our friends on earth lift us up in prayer.

Mary? “A little tougher, because the phraseology in the liturgy sometimes made me think they were seeing her as something more than a simple intercessor. But I’ve been able reconcile that over time.”

Icons? Not tough at all. They are aids to worship, not items to be worshipped, yet Theron admits that there may possibly be misconceptions among Orthodox laypeople, especially outside the U.S.

The Eucharist becoming the actual body and blood of Christ? “That was pretty easy. Even apart from the Church, you could come to that conclusion from Scripture.”

Infant baptism was the biggest hurdle for Theron, due to his Baptist background and family traditions. In the end, he sees the Orthodox view as not too far from the covenantal view of some Reformed traditions. “The child is becoming a part of the church.”

But what about the most important doctrine – justification by faith? “If you ask an Orthodox person, everyone will say we are saved by grace,” he says categorically.

“But by grace alone?” I probe deeper.

“Yes, by grace alone. But we wouldn’t say through faith alone if we are defining faith as mere belief.” Theron recoils from the easy-believism of his early Baptist experience. “You prayed a prayer. Just the assent to belief gave you your ticket.” Theron compares his Orthodox doctrine with the evangelical belief of “lordship salvation.” He admits that the categories are different. The Orthodox do not see salvation in forensic, legal categories, but in medical terms.

Theron’s conversion to Orthodoxy was a struggle. His parents and in-laws were grieved by the family’s decision. He lost friends from seminary. But for Theron and his wife, there was no turning back. “I had embraced Orthodoxy,” he said.

“How do you view Baptists now?” I ask. “Are Baptists saved?”

Ironically, though Theron thought the Landmarkist position of his Baptist church laughable, he answers with a similar view regarding Orthodoxy. “We definitely consider ourselves the True church. We believe in apostolic succession.” He clarifies, “We believe there is salvation outside of the Eastern Orthodox church, but we have the fullness of the revelation.”

“How sure are you that you’ve made the right decision?” I ask.

Theron reponds quickly, “I would never turn back. I’m 100% sure, and the longer I’m Orthodox, the more certain I am about it.”

“But what about those who convert the other way?” I reply. “Orthodox becoming Baptists?”

Theron shrugs and looks surprised, “I think they didn’t have a good understanding of Orthodoxy.”

I begin sharing stories of Orthodox priests I knew in Romania who would threaten the children attending evangelical AWANA clubs, even vowing to “cut off their fingers.” When I ask his opinion regarding this persecution of Baptists, he looks surprised and calls the priests’ actions “exaggerated.” He refuses to condone such behavior, but at the same time, he sympathizes with their need to “defend” the faith. “They probably view Baptists like you and I would view Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses. These are people coming to their country and ‘destroying the faith,’ so they will do anything possible to defend it. I can see where that mindset comes from.”

Though Theron is a convinced Orthodox believer, he does not try to convert his Baptist friends. He presents Eastern Orthodoxy and leaves it at that. But he does seek to convert nominal Christians or those who are not Christian at all.

“Though your liturgy is beautiful, isn’t it pretty much inaccessible to non-Christians?” I ask, wondering what it would be like for an unchurched person to enter an Eastern Orthodox church for the first time. Definitely not seeker sensitive. Theron questions my presupposition. “Who says the worship of the church is to be evangelistic?” He then points to early church history. “They wouldn’t let unbelievers in the worship service, or if they did, they asked them to leave mid-way through (before the Eucharist).”

Theron admits that the Orthodox church doesn’t reach as many unchurched people as they should, but then adds, “ I don’t know if any church in America does a great job reaching totally unchurched people.”

Why would an evangelical convert to Eastern Orthodoxy? Theron has two answers. The first is stability. “Within the evangelical world, you’re always looking for the new thing, you’re always reinventing the wheel. A lot of people are ready to get off that. So stability is a huge attraction for evangelicals who convert.”

The second reason is spirituality. “That’s what keeps me there. The church life throughout the year,” he says.

Our time is coming to an end. The biggest difference between Southern Baptists and Eastern Orthodox is the view of salvation. Theron admits that many laypeople in the Orthodox church believe that salvation is by good works. So, I press him again.

“Is salvation based on Christ’s work alone?”

Theron answers, “Oh yes! Without Christ, it’s impossible. He’s the one who opened the door!”

“But is there any other ground? Can I be accepted by God because of Christ and something I did?” I press further.

“Works are an expression of faith,” replies Theron. “The act of works is the act of putting on Christ. They’re opening yourself up so that God’s grace can transform you more into Christlikeness.”

Sensing we’re talking past one another, I put it another way, “When it comes down to it… when you’re looking to your justification before God and your acceptance before Him, does it eventually boil down to this: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner!’?”

“Yes,” says Theron. “Absolutely.”

HUNTINGTON, W.Va. — Greg Mencotti worried he would never find a spiritual home.
The Sunday school teacher grew up Roman Catholic, lost his faith and became an atheist. Eventually, he returned to Christianity, this time as a born-again Christian, spending years worshipping in a Methodist congregation. Still, he felt his search wasn't over.

That led him to the Holy Spirit Antiochian Orthodox Church in Huntington, W. Va., a denomination with Mideast roots that, like all Orthodox groups, traces its origins to the earliest days of Christianity.

Today, Mencotti is one of about 250 million Orthodox believers worldwide — and among a significant number of newcomers attracted to this ancient way of worship. The trend is especially notable since so few in the United States know about the Orthodox churches here.

"I was like most Americans," said Mencotti, who was urged by his wife to explore Orthodox worship. "I didn't understand anything about Orthodoxy."

Orthodoxy was born from the Great Schism of 1054, when feuds over papal authority and differences in the liturgy split Christianity into Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox halves.

In the United States, Orthodox Christians are a fraction of religious believers, numbering about 1.2 million, according to estimates by Orthodox researchers.

In the past, their growth had been largely fueled by immigration, with churches forming mainly along ethnic lines. Some converts came to Orthodoxy through marriage to a church member.

But now about one-third of all U.S. Orthodox priests are converts — and that number is likely to grow, according to Alexei D. Krindatch, research director at the Patriarch Athenagoras Orthodox Institute in Berkeley, Calif. A 2006 survey of the four Orthodox seminaries in the country found that about 43% of seminarians are converts, Krindatch said.

There are no exact figures on the rate of conversion across the 22 separate U.S. Orthodox jurisdictions. But when Mencotti began attending Orthodox worship, the church was packed with converts, including the church's pastor, the Rev. John Dixon.

The Rev. John Matusiak, pastor of St. Joseph Church in Wheaton, Ill., part of the Orthodox Church in America, said his parish has grown from 20 people in the early 1990s to more than 600 today, with the overwhelming majority of new members younger than 40.

Krindatch's research found that one-third of the more than 200 U.S. parishes in the Antiochian Orthodox Church were founded after 1990.

Matusiak said growth is especially apparent in suburbs and commuter towns. "People in Wheaton weren't flocking to Orthodoxy, because there was never a church here," Matusiak said.

Many converts credit the beauty of the liturgy and the durability of the theology, which can be a comfort to those seeking shelter from divisive battles over biblical interpretation in other Christian traditions.

Dixon, who was raised an Old Regular Baptist, an austere faith of the Southern Appalachians, said his conversion grew from his studies about the origins of Christianity as an undergraduate at Marshall University. The turning point came when he first attended services at an Orthodox church.

"As soon as I came in that day," he says, "I knew I was home."

Convert-fueled growth, though, has its challenges.

Like converts in all faiths, the newly Orthodox bring a zeal that can be unsettling for those born into the church, who tend to be more easygoing in their religious observance. Parishes run the risk of dividing between new and lifelong parishioners, Krindatch says.

"Converts to Orthodoxy form their own little quasi-seminary and it's almost a closed group," says the Rev. Joseph Huneycutt, associate pastor of St. George Anti-ochian Orthodox Church in Houston, who was raised Southern Baptist then became Orthodox.

And some worry about converts' impact on the churches. They are entering the parishes at a time when many lay activists across Orthodox denominations are pushing church leaders to let go of ethnic divisions and pool resources so they can better evangelize in the United States.

Huneycutt, author of One Flew Over the Onion Dome, a book about conversion, and the editor of OrthoDixie, a blog about Orthodoxy in the South, said he was drawn to the faith by the beauty of its rituals and its teachings.

On his first visit, he said the church was filled with the smell of incense and the sound of the chanted Divine Liturgy. The altar was largely concealed by the iconostasis, a large screen or wall hung with icons of Christ, Mary, angels and Apostles. And worshippers received Communion from a chalice and spoon.

"I had become convinced that the Eucharist was the center of Christian worship — ancient Christian worship," Huneycutt says. "Once I had reached that point in my personal walk with Christ, there was no going back."

A convert to Orthodoxy reconsiders evangelicalism.

By Sam Torode

Twenty years ago, Thomas Howard, the brother of devotional writer Elisabeth Elliot, wrote a book titled Evangelical Is Not Enough. His basic argument was that rituals don't necessarily lead to dead religiosity. Instead, sacramental rites and liturgical rhythms can bring us closer to Christ. Howard was an Anglican at the time, and later became Roman Catholic.

I've been on a similar journey. I grew up Baptist, lost my fundamentalist faith, became interested in the ancient traditions of the church, attended a Lutheran parish for a time, and eventually wound up Eastern Orthodox.

Like Howard, I now stand on the opposite side of the liturgical fence from most evangelicals. But I've come to a different conclusion than "evangelical is not enough."

Evangelical Principles

What is evangelicalism, anyhow? Evangelical seems to be an adjective more than a noun. Evangelicals tend not to identify much with their particular churches, preferring to be known as "mere Christians." There are both evangelical Baptists and evangelical Episcopalians, though the Baptist and Episcopal churches are about as far apart as country music is from classical.

For all their diversity, evangelicals hold several principles in common. This list isn't exhaustive, but here are some key emphases of evangelicals:

(1) Salvation is by faith alone, not works.

(2) The Bible is the standard for Christian doctrine and practice.

(3) Everyone needs a personal relationship with Jesus.

(4) "The church" means all Christians everywhere, and there is no "true" or "perfect" church this side of heaven.

When I became disillusioned with the Baptist faith, I eagerly drank up the writings of Catholic and Orthodox apologists (often former Protestants themselves) who challenged these four principles. I took up their arguments and shot off combative e-mails to my evangelical friends. Among other things, I argued that:

* Salvation by faith alone is not biblical. The only time the words justified, faith, and alone appear together in the Bible, it's to say that "a man is justified by works, not by faith alone" (James 2:24).

* Sola scriptura (the idea that the Bible alone is our guide-not church tradition) isn't found in the Bible, either. Since Scripture doesn't interpret itself, we need an authoritative interpretive community to make sense of it.

* The evangelical focus on a "personal relationship" with Christ tends to obscure our corporate identity as members of the church. The New Testament writers don't say anything about "asking Jesus into our hearts." Instead, they tell us to repent and be baptized into the church.

* Jesus and the apostles founded a church, not a loose affiliation of freelance believers. The apostles laid hands on bishops to oversee this church, so as to keep the doctrine pure and prevent schism. This church must still be around today, because Jesus promised that the gates of hell would not prevail against it. I still believe this critique has merit. (So do many evangelicals, who realize that their core principles need some qualification.) But when I consider the four evangelical principles today, I see more to applaud than to disagree with.

Why the change?

It's Not About Works

When I became Orthodox, I was tired of what I saw as evangelicalism's "cheap grace." I was ready for some discipline and hard work along the path of salvation.

If it's self-discipline you seek, Orthodoxy is definitely the tradition for you. The Orthodox Church has devised many ways to deny yourself and take up your cross-for example, by abstaining from meat and dairy products every Wednesday and Friday, as well as during long penitential seasons like Lent, Advent, and the Apostles' Fast. Married couples are encouraged to take it a step further, by abstaining from intercourse on these same fast days. (That's not something Orthodox apologists like to broadcast. When I first heard it, I announced to a friend that I could never become Orthodox; later, I learned that few Orthodox follow this custom strictly.)

Faced with all this fasting, it's easy to get obsessive. We joined a parish of mostly ex-Protestants who, like us, were eager to be good Orthodox. We looked down on those "ethnic Orthodox" who still eat their gyros and feta cheese during Lent. During church fellowship times, our conversations often centered on fasting (i.e., "What do I do if my parents offer me cheesecake on Friday?"). Fast-friendly recipes were eagerly exchanged, for everything from "Lenten pizza" (no cheese) to "Lenten chocolate cake" (tastes just like the real thing!).

One Sunday, a friend in the church confided to my wife, "Sometimes, I forget it's all about Jesus." That's when it hit us-we'd forgotten that it's all about Jesus, too. Most of the time, instead of overflowing with God's love, I was just ticked off about not being able to eat a burger. Meanwhile, my wife was feeling guilty about eating dairy products, despite being a nursing mother.

In the process of healing from this legalism, we ended up finding a new church home-a Greek one. Now, we're grateful for the relaxed attitude of our "cradle Orthodox" brothers and sisters. One of the first things our new priest said to us was, "Jesus looks at the heart-not the belly." That doesn't mean we should reject the spiritual disciplines of fasting and other "works," he added, but we need to view them as gifts from God. If you try to grasp a spiritual gift before it's given to you, you'll crash and burn.

The Bible, the Standard

My wife and I like to joke that we became Orthodox because we wanted to belong to a church where we were the "liberals." But for us, the core doctrines of the faith, such as the Virgin Birth or divinity of Christ, are not up for discussion.

Beyond the core doctrines, there is no definitive teaching on many issues of Christian life. When it comes to a disputed issue, you can find an Orthodox saint, monk, theologian, or priest to back up almost any argument. How do you know what's right?

In the front of the Orthodox Study Bible (yes, there is such a thing), there is a section of quotes about Scripture from saints throughout the centuries. Here's one from St. Nikon of Optina (20th century): "Read the Holy Gospel, be penetrated by its spirit, make it the rule of your life, your handbook; in every action and question of life, act according to the study of the Gospel. This is the only light of our life."

When evaluating any notion about the Christian life, we always have to refer to the source-the Bible. In the case of fasting, we Orthodox could avoid a lot of problems by listening to Jesus' words-"What goes into a man's mouth does not make him 'unclean,' but what comes out of his mouth, that is what makes him 'unclean'" (Matt. 15:11).

In the Orthodox Church, no individual saint, bishop, or theologian is considered infallible. Even the greatest have taught things that were later rejected. To give just one example, St. Gregory of Nyssa was a great defender of the doctrine of the Trinity, but his ideas about universal salvation conflicted with Scripture, so they failed to enter the mainstream.

Tradition is not a separate, or superior, source of light from Scripture. It is a commentary on the Light, helping us adjust our eyes to its brilliance.

Christ, Our One Mediator

Many Protestant converts to Orthodoxy and Catholicism are looking for a "final authority" on all matters of faith and life. To them, discerning the truth for yourself sounds like relativism. They are anxious to hand over their consciences to an infallible judge.

This is truer of converts to Rome, who often criticize the Orthodox for lack of a single teaching authority. But some Orthodox cling to a cult-like obedience to their priest or spiritual father. I know of one Orthodox monk who told a follower, "If I tell you to dig a hole today, and then I tell you to fill it in tomorrow, you must obey me without questioning."

In the right circumstances, obedience to authority can be an important discipline. In his letters, Paul certainly encourages us to obey our elders in the Lord. But Spirit-led obedience is joyful, not oppressive. God gifted us with free will for a reason. He doesn't force obedience. Jesus woos us with the beauty of truth and righteousness, and he desires our free response to his love.

I can't hand my free will over to a pope, priest, or spiritual father, even though these can be helpful guides. For example, I greatly admire Pope John Paul II's teachings on marriage and sexuality, but I admire them for the beauty and truth I find there, not because I take them to be divine or infallible. I am responsible for my decisions, and I alone will answer for them.

All Part of 'the Church'

Evangelicals, Catholics, and Orthodox disagree about the exact identity of "the church." But when the smoke clears, we all agree that everyone under the lordship of Christ, regardless of denominational affiliation, is somehow part of the church. That's the important thing. Beyond that, I'd rather avoid judgments about who's in and who's out of the church.

I'm not arguing for relativism, but humility. Objective truth exists, but our human ability to discern it is limited. In fact, Truth is not a set of ideas-it's a person. Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life." We only know Truth as much as we know Christ.

I'm a grateful member of the Orthodox Church, and I'm happy to talk about the glories of this path as well as the struggles. I believe that the "trappings" of Orthodoxy-icons, liturgies, rote prayers, and other things evangelicals often are suspicious of-can bring us closer to Christ. But when these things become ends in themselves-idols instead of icons-we need to step back and remember what, or who, it's all about.

Instead of "evangelizing" my evangelical friends, I now hope to learn from them. Discussing differences is worthwhile, but it's more important to encourage each other as we grow in Christ.

It took me a while, but I think I've finally learned what really matters. Liturgical is not enough, sacramental is not enough, Catholic is not enough, and Orthodox is not enough. Only Jesus is enough.

Sam Torode is the coauthor (with wife, Bethany) of Aflame: Ancient Wisdom on Marriage (Eerdmans, 2005).

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