Sunday of Orthodoxy – Questioning Faith

This Sunday (the first Sunday of Lent) is the traditional celebration of the “Triumph of the Church” over all heresies. Originally established in the 9th century, as a commemoration of the end of iconoclasm, by the 12th it had been extended to include the victory of “orthodoxy” over all heresies.

I’ve long been fascinated with the idea of “faith” – how do we define it, what does it entail. I cannot say that as yet I feel I have a well formed, concise “definition” of faith. Recently I’ve been reading Robert Wilkin’s The Spirit of Early Christian Thought, in it he includes an interesting discussion on faith and reason, in which citing Origen, and Augustine, he explores elements of “faith” – some of which I’ll play with below. Monday’s G2 section of the Guardian (26 Feb) includes an equally interesting article on the growing divide between believers and secularists in British society. Both texts have raised for me what seems to be a seminal point with reference to “faith” – and that is that faith must have the capacity for doubt. Why?

Wilken, citing Augustine again, demonstrates how for example historical knowledge and scientific knowledge differ. There is a certainty about scientific knowledge, because of the way in which we arrive at it – through demonstration, measurement, and proofs. Historical knowledge on the other hand will always have an element of doubt – because it relies heavily on the veracity of witnesses. Historical knowledge then is . . . indirect. . . dependent on the authenticity of someone’s word. Scientific knowledge on the other hand is direct – you can (theoretically) conduct the experiment, take the measurements, work out the mathematical proofs, yourself and thus “see” the evidence laid out before you.

Christian thinking, is grounded in historical knowledge, as such it begins with the collective memory of the community – from the personal witness of those who have gone before whose account, and experience are held in our consciousness as authoritative. The Gospels were written decades after the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ, yet we receive and accept these accounts as authentic witnesses to the life and teaching of Christ. Christian thinking begins not with the proof, or demonstration, the measured result, or mechanical experiment, but with the reception of the witnesses’ accounts believed to be authentic. St. Paul emphasises this point when he wrote to the Corinthians (1Cor. 15.3): “. . .I handed on to you as of first importance what I also received. . .” Paul then continues developing his theological themes and ideas firmly grounded in that body of knowledge that he received, and now passes on to (reminds) the community in Corinth.

The letters of St. Paul were quickly circulated and appropriated by the community as an authentic voice bearing witness to the teaching of Christ. The Gospels too are associated with the names of the Apostles: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Their names, their witness was deemed authoritative – even if they did not pen their eponymous texts. What these examples seem to indicate is that, at least in the emergence of Christian thought, the question of whom to trust, was more important than what one should believe.

We learn to trust Paul as we read his writings, and consider and reflect upon his themes and expansions of “that which he received” and subsequently handed on. It is a process that invites us to be analytical, to doubt and to question; to seek to understand, to know the truth about what he has written – and over time to trust his witness, his account of Christian thought and events. Just as we come to trust Jesus – and are confident in his promises, and the value of his teaching, we come to trust Paul, Ignatius, Athanasius, Gregory of Nyssa, Proklos, and others up to and including the witness of contemporary theologians.

Reflecting on this Sunday’s feast – the triumph of Orthodoxy – we should see it’s value not in a list of doctrines to be believed, that have merely been approved by the ecumenical councils – rather we ought to celebrate the wider personal witness of those whose voices who invite us to engage with, even struggle with ideas and issues that contribute to our understanding of God.