Bože!

Thanks to Lyngine for forwarding this rather interesting article from Newsweek to me. Lisa Miller (the article’s author) writes that a recent Pew Forum study shows that 7 percent of Americans worship in small groups in house churches rather than attending larger gatherings/congregational settings.

The article goes on to explore some of the reasons – the era of the mega church is over, one size does not fit all when it comes to worship & spirituality, and the rigid institutionalism of “traditional” denomonations distracts and deterrs the faithful.

What was interesting to me however, from an OC/IC perspective is the analogy between mega-church and micro-church and big brand beer, and micro-breweries. A bit flimsy at first but lets think about the branding ideas, the backround imagery for a moment. When you think micro-brewery, you think small, local producer, you think quality, traditional manufacturing but quirky enough to bend a bit here, and be flexible there.

Hmmm . . . perhaps this is not such a bad analogy aferall. Perhaps this is a decent working image set for an indie community to use to draw up an outreach plan for 2010?

Have a look at this vid of behavioral economist Dan Ariely describing an interesting experiment involving fake fashion – you know the ones – you find “Gucci”, “Prada” handbags and sunglasses being sold for £5 at street vendors all over London. In the experiment he discovers that wearing fake fashion items seems to . . . . “empower” the owner/wearer to cheat more – to be less honest.

Hmmmm . . . .

I find this all rather interesting. Firstly I find the desire for, the need to buy “fake” anything – let alone “fashion” items fascinating. It is the search for status (often unnecessary status), it is the aspiration towards excessive wealth (which has its own negative social and personal effects), I could go on and on . . .

Two things pop out for me that, in this scenario, are directly connected to theology. First there is that bizarre desire to be seen, and to be seen as somehow out of the ordinary, or important. Jesus criticises the religious leaders of his day for wearing tassels, expecting to be greeted in the market place, invited to dinners, and offered the place of honour. It would seem that this particular defect has not yet been winnowed from our indie community at least. Second, there is deception . . . . no deception is not really the right word . . . there is a sense of not being wholly “real” or “honest” – something that from the reference point of the teaching of Christ is . . . well . . . . . just a bit dodgey, no?

“Alternatively, if one denomination unexpectedly adopts an aggressive policy of buying shares in another, then the resulting volatility will make it hard accurately to assess the underlying reality.”

Mark Vernon’s essay in the Guardian Online playing with the imagery of possible parallels between the language, dynamic, and psychology of the eddies of spiritual and religious flux is a fun read – and given the often unstable nature of the Indie climate – rather thought provoking.

Born in Goa, of Portuguese family, Mar Alvarez began his pastoral career as a Roman Catholic priest. However, the deteriorating situation with the Padroado (the confused system of Papal privilege and royal patronage governing the church in Portuguese India since the 14th century) lead Mar Alvarez to convert to Orthodoxy.

Mar Alvarez was consecrated by the Bishop of Kottayam, Paulose Mar Athanasios on 28 July 1889. Four years later Alvarez consecrated Rene Vilatte, who had been directed to India by Alfred Loisy.

Mar Alvarez was not a mere reactionary, nor was he a convert in protest of issues affecting his “home church” he was a true orthodox believer, and he suffered greatly for his conversion over the years. He was repeatedly humiliated, and attacked by local Roman Catholic and secular authorities, but persisted in his charitable and educational endeavours.

Mar Alvarez was reduced to poverty – and wearing nothing but a black robe, went about with a begging bowl to collect for his own sustenance, as well as for his support of the poor and the sick. One account describes how when visiting a local business man he asked for alms, the businessman spat in his begging bowl in reply. Mar Alvarez without getting angry, calmly said – that was for me, I shall keep that, now what do you have to offer for the poor? The businessman was so ashamed of his actions, that he made a very generous contribution.

Mar Alvarez was a scholar, publishing a number of books and articles. He was opposed to religious exhibitionism (a common feature of 19th and early 20th century piety). As part of his ideology of independence both for India, and for the church, Mar Alvarez was a strong advocate of using local resources for clothing, food, and building, rather than foreign materials – he encouraged, people to rely on cheaper locally produced food sources such as tapioca. In this he was ahead of his time, and the later philosophies that would be an integral part of the Indian independence movement.

Mar Alvarez went out of his way to help, and bring comfort to those suffering from common illnesses of the day: malaria, TB, and leprosy. He even published pamphlets on the treatment of diseases like Cholera. In 1871 Mar Alvarez started a charitable association to bring aid to the poor – especially wandering beggars. Expanding the project across other cities in Goa after only a few years.

Old, and frail, Mar Alvarez died of dysentery on 23 September 1923. His tireless work for the poor, and for the liberation of his people, meant that he left a legacy. Thousands of people – especially the poor – paid their respects and formed the funeral procession that lined the main roads of his home town Panaji.

Siobhan’s newest book, the product of her Phd work, is of interest to “Indie-philes” as it is a historical exploration of the links between Western esoteric Christianity and the Independent Catholic movement.

Priests, Gnostics & Magicians traces two particular streams of esoteric links in the indie movement, first the link with French Gnostic movements, Martinism in particular, and second, the link between Theosophy, and the emergence of the Liberal Catholic tradition.

It’s worth noting that “esoteric” ideas and movements are not particular to the indie community but pre-existed us in both the Roman Catholic, and Protestant traditions. One of the earliest attempts at deciphering Heiroglyphs, for example, was heavily influenced by esoteric ideas. John Dee, Elizabeth I’s astrologer & diviner (curious at a time when religion, in particular the “Christian” religion was a political hot button issue in England and in Europe generally) as well as Newton were of a heavy esoteric bent.

You can grab a copy of Siobhan’s book at Amazon by clicking here. A link will also appear on our kiosk page very soon.

Today we celebrate the two fold recovery of the cross. Firstly when St. Helen found the cross under the temple of Aphrodite (built by Hadrian over the site of Golgotha) in AD 324. There were all three crosses, that of Christ and the two thieves. According to tradition, St. Helen was at a loss as to which was the “true” cross. The local bishop, Macarius however, had a clever solution, and brought a certain lady from the city, who was near to death, and asked her to touch the crosses. The one that cured her, was the true cross – the “Tree of Life”.

Later in the seventh century the Persians sacked Jerusalem, and took the cross as a war trophy in AD 614. In AD628 the Emperor Heraclius recovered it in a military campaign. According to the legend he went to Jerusalem to restore it to its place in the shrine of the Resurrection, arrayed in his splendid imperial attire, but was prevented from entering by “an invisible hand”. Zacharias, the then Archbishop of Jerusalem stepped forward saying: “Beware your Majesty! These precious vestmens and priceless jewels are the marks of human pride: this does not conform with the poverty of Jesus Christ, nor with his humility in bearing the cross.” Chastised, Heraclius stripped, borrowed a simple cloak, and proceeded barefoot from there, whereupon the assembly prostrated themselves before the cross singing the hymn we still sing today:

“We bow before your cross O Christ, and we sing a hymn of glory to your resurrection!”

One lesson we can learn from this legend – which is more than appropriate in our indie context – is that titles, vestments, jewellery, all “ekklesiastical bling” is meaningless before Christ. All that matters is living the teachings of the Master, with integrity and humility.

This essay in Religion Dispatches is really compelling. The politics of the impending health care reform in the US, while fascinating, is of no interest to us here (if you’re a regular you’ll know we don’t do anything but indie thinking and issues), rather the discussion about how a mythology takes shape.

The “key” feature is how a group takes an image, and “re-interprets” it (sometimes at the expense of its “real” meaning or substance). Which is what is certainly happening in the case of the current debate in the US. But here’s my question – for good or for ill, how have we indie folk done this, and how do we continue to do it?

How have we taken “images” from our inherited language about “church” and “catholicism” and re-interpreted them; what has been the “cost” of this re-interpretation? Has it hemmed us in, or liberated us? Does it inspire, or merely trap us in the cage of old, un-healthy models of religious expression?

I’m a fan of the Guardian Belief section each week they ask a question and have at least one writer respond (the pundits comments however, are usually snarky and un-pleasant). This week the question is “How did you lose, or find your faith?” The writer responding is the decidedly Agnostic Stephen Bates – and it really is worth the read.

So I ask you – how did you find your faith, and one further, what sustains it?

This article by David Gibson of Politics Daily is well worth a read. He explores some of the reasons why Gay men in particular are “more” religiously invovled than their Straight brethren. Some of the conclusions drawn by one of the studies done by sociologist Darren E. Sherkat are laughably funny, but the piece overall has some points well worth reflecting on.

Let’s check in with the calendar – yup – its the 10th Wednesday after Pentecost. It’s so easy to loose track of the simple things – yes?

Anyway today is the commemoration of Anicetus the Martyr. Anicetus, ike Euplus who we commemorated yesterday, openly “presented himself” to the authorities boldly declaring that all those who worship idols are stupid. For his troubles – Anicetus was beaten senseless with rods, imprisioned for three years, and finally tossed into a furnace, along with his nephew Photios. Although they both died – their bodies were left un-touched by the flames.

What intrigues me about this story (and a number of recent commemorations are not unrelated in this) is the act of antagonism the martyr undertook to bring himself to the attention of the oppressing power; Anecitus antagonised the Pagan authorities, and died because of it.

Three brief thoughts come to my mind here.

Firstly it is worth pointing out that recent scholarship suggests that the persecution of the early church was more sporadic, and not as consistently applied as was once thought. The Roman authorities generally had a hands off approach and only acted when they were either antagonised, or ordered to by those higher up in the chain of command. Usually they did the bare minimum to keep out of trouble – thus the plethora of Confessors in the early church (people imprisoned, exiled or abused for the faith but who were not killed), and the common practice of handing over the books and sacred vessels of the church (more often than not the local official would accept any books, rather than the Scriptures – so a book on Geometry would do just as well thanks). Thus it is likely that in at least some of our commemorations, the narrative is great, inspiring, and instructive, but heavily “embelished”. That is not to say that Anicetus and Photios, and Euplus, and others like them were not real saints – rather it is merely suggesting that their real holiness was not so exciting.

Secondly lets stop for a moment and think about this idea of “antagonising” the locals. It makes me think of door to door evangelists who always come at the wrong time, shoving a pamphlet in your hands, reciting obscure passages of Revalations, and telling you you’re on your way to a firey end (well they don’t come to our house anymore I terrify them by feeding them and being nice to them). If some brazen nutter bursts into your atrium calling you stupid for offering incense to Mars, Apollo and your family ancestors – it would not be unreasonable of you to be rather put out over it all! So here’s the question – is it right, is it constructive, for Christians to stand on the street corner and “proclaim the Word”?

Finally, on a more positive note, it is worth mentioning the “instructive” nature of these narratives. Anecetus makes himself known, he comes out from among the masses and boldly declares: “I’m a Christian!” Boldness in self identity is I think a good thing – so long as that boldness gives shape to a praxis that best represents the ideals of the faith. Declaring my Christianity, or my adherence to the OC/IC tradition is fine but people have to be able to “see” what that means through my actions (my faithfulness to the teachings of the Gospel, the Fathers, and the founding ideals of the OC/IC movement), otherwise its little more than an exercise in attention seeking.