I don’t claim any special experience of or insight into God. It’s just that he had to break through my hardened attitudes about Christians and convince me that he was truly good before I could experience or accept his love. So for me, the understanding that he was a good God was a necessary precursor to my turn in faith toward him.

Reflecting back, I’m glad you found the God who found you… For me, it was reading Dallas Willard, and later (and more deeply) N.T. Wright, that convinced me that God is good and loves mankind. After about five years of Wright, when I became aware of Orthodoxy, I found myself saying to myself over and over, “Yup, I’m there about *that*.” Then I waited another couple of years to iron out a couple of issues and be sure that’s where I was being led. My kids are all grown and out of the nest, so that part of it was not a problem. If I had waited for my husband, I might not have ever gotten in… But now that I’m in, I find myself not reading so much, and what I do read is much more along the hesychastic, experiential lines. I think my heart is seeking equilibrium, after so many years of collecting “head knowledge” for my own ego and because of how that has been valued in our time and place… Amen and amen to the inexhaustible love and mercy of God. And I’m sure you know that Orthodoxy recognizes that there are people who are not “official” who are nonetheless Orthodox. May the Lord keep you in contentment.

Dana

I suppose I can’t really dispute your characterization, since there’s really no point I know on which I dispute the teaching of the Church. But I didn’t get to that point because I encountered the Orthodox perspective on God and reality and was convinced by something new. My understanding of God developed over years during which I was only vaguely aware that the Greek, Russian, and other Orthodox Churches existed. I mean, I was familiar with them in sociological and historical terms as well as in “current events”, but never really considered what they did or did not teach or practice. (Nor did I associate many of those I read with Orthodoxy.)

If I had not come to see and believe that the God we see in Jesus is a good God who loves mankind, I would never have flipped from anti-Christian to Christian. I think that left me predisposed to an Orthodox perspective. And then, with the few exceptions like Brother Lawrence (who basically taught me the Jesus Prayer), I was always more comfortable with the ancient Greek Christian writers than with anyone in the Latin tradition. (Besides, there was a lot more to read from those who originally wrote in Greek the first thousand years than from those who wrote in Latin.)

And so when I finally did become aware of modern Orthodoxy as a distinct tradition, and began to read and listen to its voices, I didn’t really experience a shift of any sort. They described God and recognized the God they described as the one I knew, loved, and worshiped. There was a sense of relief, of course, in some areas where I had wondered how my understanding could be so drastically different from that of what seemed like almost everyone else. But I never had any sense of encountering anything new.

I think that’s one reason why I’m not in any rush to become Orthodox. While I wouldn’t dispute that the fullness of Christian worship is in the Church, it’s the fullness of worship of the God I already worship, the God I already know, the God who, for lack of a better way to put it, relentlessly and patiently loved me into Christian faith. And it does not feel to me like this is something I need to rush. I’m neither willing to run ahead of my family nor try to drag them into an experience and understanding for which they are not presently prepared.

Over the course of my life, I’ve learned something of what it means to wait. And that seems to be what I should do now. I’m content to wait. If I’ve learned anything about God, it’s that his love and mercy are inexhaustible.

But thank you for your kind words. Obviously you flipped my reflective switch.

Scott, you’re about as Orthodox as a person can be without having actually been received into the church

Dana

When I read her article, I realized it probably better answered your question than my attempt to answer it did.

I recognize that some people take more risks than I do, but even though I’m still figuring out just how sick I was, and I’m still recovering, I never want to return even slightly to the condition I was in by the time I was diagnosed.

Thanks for stopping by!

Twitter: ATXglutenfree

Now, that’s not a problem. It’s common for ancient texts to have parallel narratives over the same event. We even see it elsewhere in our Scripture. But it should condition some aspects of the way you read the texts. The first one is concerned with the function or purpose of the different parts of creation. The second is more focused on the role of humanity.

And it’s the second that more naturally leads into the story of Chapter 3. But overlaying all of that is the first creation narrative. So you kinda have to jump back and forth.

Also, though it’s not clear in English translation, “Adam” and “Eve” don’t really begin to be used as proper names until chapter 4 and there is a lot of wordplay at work in the first three chapters that also doesn’t translated well into English.

I believe in the truth of Genesis 1-3, but I don’t believe they are describing actual events in a modern documentary sort of way. It doesn’t bother if there did happen to be a particular couple who experienced exactly that sort of temptation, but it also doesn’t bother me if there wasn’t. True is a category that far transcends strictly factual and my sense is that the Genesis opening narratives are trying to convey truth that is difficult or even impossible to convey in strictly factual terms.

And so I’m comfortable seeing each of us participating in our humanity in the decision to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. I see us all (obviously) barred from the tree of life as a result. I see us all cursing creation.

It goes on from there. That’s the short version. As I said, the long version — assuming I could articulate it — would take multiple posts.

I’m probably too strong-willed for my own good. I have that sort of strength, but I’m not sure how helpful that really is. I don’t know that I have any real theological background knowledge. I’m sure there are many people out there with more knowledge than I have and even many people who are probably better able than me to write a series like this. But, I’m the one writing it, so we’ll muddle through as best we can.

I hope you find something in what I write helpful. Thanks for your comment. It is always nice to know people are reading, whether they agree or disagree. I probably went way overboard in my response to Steve’s comment, but people so rarely comment here that when someone does, I feel like I’m overflowing with things to say.

A god that would judge an infant guilty for the act of a distant ancestor and condemn that infant to eternal torment on the basis of that inherited guilt alone is at least as evil a god as Baal who demanded infant sacrifice. (I say “at least” because with Baal the torment was not eternal.) It makes no difference what other sort of condition or allowance has been made. If baptism, then the majority of the world’s infants had no opportunity for baptism. Almost every Christian tradition that accepts the idea of inherited guilt attempts to create an “out” for this problem because almost every human being instinctively recognizes that such an action is evil and a god who did it would be an evil god.

However, in this instance, the idea of original sin as inherited guilt has, at best, only the most tenuous connection to Scripture. Its primary origin actually lies in Stoic philosophy, but that’s a later post in the series as is the one that specifically discusses the tiny number of Scriptures used to attempt to connect the idea to Scripture.

In this day and age, saying that something is “orthodox Christian doctrine” is a statement that only has meaning when you qualify it within the context of a specific tradition or sect. Within the context of the Roman Catholic tradition, the idea of original sin (though it originated primarily as an idea of St. Augustine of Hippo), crystallized as dogma in the early middle ages. So if you are Roman Catholic, then I would agree that within that context the specific idea of original sin as inherited guilt is “orthodox Christian doctrine” for Roman Catholics. I can open the Catechism on my desk and find it in there. (Though in truth, it has been nuanced so often and so many ways from the middle ages on, I have to confess I’m not certain what the Roman Catholic Church teaches today in regard to infants who die unbaptized.)

If you are speaking from within the context of most of the Protestant denominations, then within that context again your statement is true, the idea of original sin as inherited guilt is considered “orthodox Christian doctrine.” That only seems natural to me since historically Protestants formed as offshoot sects of the medieval Roman Catholic Church. They carried with them many of its teachings and ideas.

However, those are the only Christian contexts within which the idea of original sin as inherited guilt can be considered “orthodox Christian doctrine.” The idea can hardly be found anywhere in the first millenium of the history of the Church. The “oriental” Orthodox Churches (those who for varying reasons did not affirm Chalcedon) do not teach that as doctrine. And notably, the Orthodox Church, which has the strongest purely historical claim of continuity of doctrine for the last two thousand years, does not teach human beings inherit the juridical guilt of anyone. If the Orthodox don’t teach it, it can only be considered “orthodox” in very qualified and narrow terms.

While I will be exploring the above in more depth in later posts, the only reason I’m writing a series is because this is a matter of dispute and not of settled doctrine within Christianity. If it were merely my own opinion, I would probably still hold it. (I can be strong-willed that way. It’s one of my failings.) But I would not write publicly about it. In the grand scheme of things my personal opinion on something like this means nothing to anyone but me. I’m approaching it as a personal narrative because that’s the way that felt right for exploring this particular topic. But if this were a truly settled matter of doctrine across all Christian traditions, I would largely keep my thoughts to myself. On this issue, though, “Eastern” Christianity and “Western” Christianity hold very different perspectives and I’m pretty firmly on the “other” side from my fellow Western Christians. I did try to clearly disclose that in the opening post of the series, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone reading.

Of course, I didn’t believe in inherited guilt long before I knew there alternative, orthodox Christian perspectives. I don’t want to leave the impression that I encountered the alternative teaching in Orthodoxy and was convinced by it. I rejected the teaching from the beginning for my own reasons apart from knowledge of any other Christian tradition. And since these first posts track my personal narrative, they are about my own personal reasons for rejecting the idea. As such, others might not find them particularly helpful. They all meant something to me. As I dove into Christianity, I addressed scripture and the history of doctrine on this point over time, so posts exploring both of those will come later in the series.

We were conceived in sin. We are all born rejecting God. That is our condition.

But, God is a merciful and loving God. He promises to forgive sin and give us the Holy Spirit in our baptisms. (no age requirement there…infants are welcome to be baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ, as well)

‘Original sin’ is orthodox Christian doctrine, even if we do not like the teaching.

Dinner was julienne veggies with tilapia and shrimp cooked in parchment paper pouches, a warm red quinoa/butternut squash side, and slices of tomatoes broiled with fresh basil and cheese (one each of goat cheese and fresh mozzarella). Dessert was dark chocolate gluten free brownies with Haagen Daaz Five chocolate ice cream.

It turned out pretty yummy I think.

Take care & God bless
Anne

Grace and peace.

Among the attributes of that formation is an almost axiomatic acknowledgment that a text has no meaning separate from or independent of interpretation. Another attribute is a suspicion of overarching frameworks, especially when they try to mold and reshape things that don’t otherwise fit within the framework. Coupled with that was a long-standing interest in history, especially ancient history. With that mix, you can imagine how strange ideas like sola scriptura, ‘inerrancy’ (though I’m still not clear exactly what people mean by that term), and such looked to me. Since unlike most religions, Christianity makes specific historical claims, I turned to history to try to sort it out. You can imagine how that went, I’m sure.

BTW, through blood and marriage, my family includes a number of active and faithful as well as lapsed Catholics. (My family is a rather diverse group spiritually.) Though my mother wandered spiritually (and in other ways) for a long time, quite a while back she settled into life as a devout Catholic. At present, she’s the principal of a mission Catholic school serving poverty-stricken Pine Bluff, AR.

Me? I’m still trying to figure out what it means to follow this strange Jesus of Nazareth. I don’t feel any particular urge to convert to one specific tradition or another. In belief, I’ve discovered in the past few years that an awful lot of what I worked out for myself is more in line with Orthodox theology than anything else. On the one hand that was a huge relief. It means I wasn’t as strange and ‘out there’ as I was beginning to think I was. But that didn’t translate into a desire to run out and convert to Orthodoxy.

I don’t really know what the future holds. But God has been patient with me and loved me for years, even when I thought I hated him. (In reality, I hated an image of him created by Christians who behaved in hurtful ways toward me.) And unlike many who confuse veneration and honor with worship in Christian discussions, I actually have worshiped other gods. A lot of other gods. I know the difference in a visceral way that most don’t.

And when I pray, Lord have mercy, I trust that he will. Like Jonah, the God I am beginning to know is merciful and slow to anger. Unlike Jonah, I’m grateful rather than pissed off. But then, I’m more like a Ninevite than a prophet.

Thank you for your comments at EE’s site and for this reflection on Chapter 3. I agree wholeheartedly with your assessment of Sola Scriptura. I sometimes wonder why we fail to see that every reading of Scripture is in fact an interpretation and that the only question to be answered is whether or not it is the correct interpretation.