Casting the Net
by Fr. Chrysostom MacDonnell
Reflections on the Miraculous Catch of Fish and the idea of Orthodox
Mission
(St. Luke 5)
The Church by her very existence is evangelistic – she exists not only
to bring her members closer and closer to Christ but also, to pass on
the mystery of Christ to others. The Great Commission [Matt.28:16-20],
read in the Orthodox Church at every Baptism and every eleventh week at
Sunday Matins, is quite unambiguous: Christ, the God-Man, risen from the
dead, has received from the Father all authority in heaven and on earth
and with that authority, commands his followers to make disciples not
only in all nations but of all nations. Christianity is
unequivocally a missionary religion and there is no place in it for the
novel secularist idea that all religions are of equal value (meaning,
equally valueless) and none should claim special status over any
other. With polite apologies to any who may be of such acute
sensibilities in the realm of political rectitude we, nevertheless,
proclaim and assert and affirm that Christianity and, more especially
the Orthodox expression of it, to be the only faith that can save men’s
souls and is the final cataphatic revelation of God in the world.
For example, though one might admire the developments of Arabic
civilisation from the eighth century AD to its decline (though largely
built on the achievements of ancient Greek and Roman science), yet we
reject Islam as a revelation of God. If it were such, what business do
we have in being Christian? The same must hold true for any later,
so-called, revelations: Sikhism, Mormonism, Jehovah’s Witnesses and
Baha’ism. The siren voices, even among believers in the heterodox
Christian confessions that would have us give equal value to all
cultures and religions, have conveniently ignored the contradictions in
their own position – how can one obey the Great Commission if those who
know not Christ have found their own ‘true faith’. Of course, the
secularists and social liberals who manage the government of our own
country are anxious to foster community cohesion (such is the current
phrase) knowing as they do, religion’s ability to stir up conflict. This
is laudable enough as far as it goes but I suspect it is, itself, rooted
in the decline of the indigenous religious traditions among the vast
majority of the population. This decline has left most people uncertain
as to how one deals with any religion in the public sphere, whether
Christian or whether imported through immigration from the Commonwealth.
In fact, most of the anxiety is reserved for Islam, not only due to the
political tragedies of modern times but also for other, more historical
and cultural reasons. The point is, as Orthodox Christians we cannot
just swim with this tide. To accept the spirit of the age and compromise
our obedience to the Great Commission would fundamentally undermine not
only our understanding of what Christianity is but our very reason for
existing as the Church at all.
So the Church, by her very nature being evangelistic, must proclaim
Christ to all, in season and out of season [II Tim.4:2]. How this is
done, however, is another question altogether. One thing, though, is
clear to me - that Orthodox evangelisation or mission is no set process
but is, nevertheless, founded on two prime ideas, namely, the prompting
of the Holy Spirit and secondly, the direction of the local bishop. With
this in mind, I should like to explore just how in our current situation
we, particularly as individuals, should approach the proclamation of
Christ to those who have yet truly to encounter him.
Some naive sects imagine that the propagation of their message is to be
done calling from door to door or, perhaps stranger still, haranguing
passers-by in shopping arcades. The arrant silliness of this as a method
within the present British culture is beyond comment, save for the
result that one might delude the gullible and ill-educated or attract
the desperate and unsophisticated. We might charitably assume that these
people, though not possessing the pleroma (fullness) of Orthodoxy are,
nonetheless, motivated by a desire to save souls. They are purporting,
of course, to be thoroughly biblical, following the command of Christ to
his own Apostles [St. Luke 10:1ff], as if the sacred text were here
purporting to be a paradigm for all mission. They are, though,
neglecting the context of Scripture, forgetting that we do not live in a
commonly shared religious culture, generally speaking, nor are we first
century Jews, oppressed by a foreign power and longing for the coming of
the Messiah (albeit that there was no accepted consensus on what that
meant at the time). The other problem is that our present culture has no
place for street debate; it has no forum in the Roman sense – the
scene has shifted, rather, to the Media which is not only, on the whole,
under the control of the secular liberal consensus, but is also now
fragmented into compartments of interest through the growth of consumer
choice. There are religious channels but who watches or listens to them
– the spiritually hungry or the converted? The street preachers can only
appear as figures of ridicule, considered by most as shamelessly odd in
their behaviour. Such disapprobation might well be thought, by the
preachers concerned, as suffering ridicule for Christ’s sake but not
when it tars the message with the same brush as is used on the
messenger. And as for the doorstep evangelists, the least said about
‘cold-calling’ and doorstep salesmen the better. The various
pseudo-Christian and heretical sects who disturb the householder’s
peace, must in the end, consider the membership they succeed in
attracting. To twist a phrase of Groucho Marx: would they want to
join a club that would have someone like them as a member!
Ninian Smart, remarking on the
Jehovah’s Witnesses in his book, The Religious Experience of Mankind
(1969) says that the movement, founded by the scandalous Charles
Taze Russell (1821-1916) appeals to the modestly educated – clerks and
landladies in England. It might sound snobbish but if that is the social
limit of that particular heresy’s appeal, one would not wish to emulate
their evangelistic methods let alone their bogus doctrines.
The point we must grasp is that our evangelisation is to a secular
culture now, where religion, as a practice, has largely been forgotten
and few understand the concept of salvation, let alone their need for
it. Unlike the Jews in the Roman province of Judea who shared a common
religious language, it is doubtful if many today appreciate the meaning
of terms like Redeemer, Saviour, Grace or even Sin in the sense that
they are used in Christianity. The Christian story itself has largely
been lost, even as a shared cultural narrative. Even the very idea of
identifying with a super-societal body, such as the Church, would be
beyond most people’s conceptualisation.
This is far from saying that we live in a spiritual desert. In fact, the
opposite is the case: it is a spiritual jungle, a supermarket of ideas
from the bland to the bizarre yet ungoverned and un-marshalled through
any religious conventions. Here, we must be honest and admit that most
Britons are not only un-religious but often anti-religious. Religion for
them has become a negative factor. Its decline in the public market
place of ideas has largely been welcomed, freeing minds from its social
constraints. As William Blake could write: And priests in black gowns
were walking their rounds / And binding with briars my joys and desires
[The Garden of Love]. Yet, they are left wondering, often with
anxiety, whether a life of materialistic hedonism that must end in
illness and death is, for the majority, the height of human endeavour.
This is the setting for the Orthodox Church in this country and it is
imperative that we understand this situation. In the past, Orthodox
Christianity had all kinds of soils in which to grow and take root but
here it must seem stony ground indeed (St. Luke 8:6).
So, ‘cold calling’, to use the current term, being of no use, how do we
bring the gospel to others? We might not live in the days of the
Apostles but we do share two things with them very specifically: their
faith and tradition on the one hand and secondly, the gift of the Holy
Spirit which they received at Pentecost. This is not just in an
individual sense, (as when the catechumen is Chrismated [confirmed]
following baptism in the Orthodox Church) but in the communal sense of
coming through our bishop. As the one who distributes the Holy Myron to
his priests, it is the local bishop who empowers and authorises the
mission of the people of God. It is for him with his council to plan the
strategy for his diocese, as also to bless and approve any undertakings
by his clergy and laity. In the first place, therefore, all Orthodox
mission must be in conformity with the mind of the bishop. This is the
true Pentecostal harmony, as St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote to the
Ephesians: ‘...being perfectly united in obedient submission to the
bishop and the presbytery, you may be sanctified in all respects.’
At the episcopal level, we are concerned with the planting of churches
and the establishment of worshipping communities which, by their very
existence are missionary. The fact that each Lord’s Day the faithful
gather to ‘proclaim the death of the Lord until he come,’
is testimony to the evangelistic nature of the Church; that she
is apostolic according to the Nicene Creed. Each individual parish will,
of course, develop its own modus operandi when it comes to spreading its
fishing net. I am not so much concerned here with catechetical
programmes and other means of drawing souls to Christ at the corporate
level. Rather, my concern is more for our individual responsibility,
where each Christian soul is an ambassador for Christ (2 Corinthians
5:20). There is a very simple covenantal arrangement here: if we
ourselves desire salvation through reconciliation with God, we must
share the opportunity with others, also. If we ponder our own experience
– what has happened to and in us through the holy mysteries – what else
are we supposed to be as Christian people, other than the evidence
of what Christ can actually do, fulfilling the meaning and purpose of
human lives?
In other words, the best way for
you and me to evangelise our neighbour is not by preaching at
them about things they do not understand [“Do not cast your pearls
before swine….”] but, in the first place, by revealing Christ
to them in our own lives.
Orthodox Christians are naturally aware of the power of the
saints; of how we see in their lives and in the effectiveness of their
intercession with Christ, that it is through other people that Christ is
proclaimed. It is not, in the first place, through the Bible, or Church
institutions, or Liturgy (though these be all essential), but rather, it
is through other human beings that
evangelisation begins.
It is evident, therefore, that each one of us bears an awesome
responsibility upon which we shall be judged. It is by the quality of
our own Christian lives that others will be either drawn to or repulsed
from the life in Christ. If the aim of our discipleship is to grow in
sanctification, to emulate the saints, that purpose cannot be an end in
itself, merely for our benefit. If we are to shine, it is not just to
light up the chamber of our own heart but also to enlighten the path for
others who dwell in darkness. Our evangelisation as Orthodox Christians
begins, therefore, in the way we struggle to live a holy life: in the
selfless nature of our charity; in our unwavering hope, fixed on the
eternal realities that cannot disappoint; by our faith that carries us
through our sufferings; in our peace, unsurprised and unruffled by the
changes and chances of this fleeting world; through our virtues and
morality, untainted by the febrile mores and tastes of the times; but
first and foremost, in the spiritual nature of our lives, focused on and
ambitious for the things of God, rather than attached to the world the
flesh and finally, the devil.
The means to all this we have at our disposal – the Holy Mysteries,
ascetic disciplines, prayer, good deeds. Together by the synergy of our
own effort and struggle, they all revolve in a virtuous circle to bring
us grace upon grace. Thus, in proportion, we acquire the Holy Spirit
more and more. It might seem odd to talk of Him in these proportional
metaphors but it is in the sense that He works to form Christ within us;
to mould us, bit by bit, till we reach the measure of the stature of the
fullness of Christ. (Eph4:13)
To the Orthodox mind - in the
mind of Christ - the question of evangelisation is very straightforward:
what does my unsaved neighbour see of Christ in me? The answers to what
we should do may begin very simply and with basic remedies: faithful
attendance at the Liturgy, regularity of repentance and confession, care
over the ascetic struggle, the generosity of one’s giving. If we would
change others, we must, firstly, change ourselves – removing the plank
before removing the speck (Matthew 7:3). Quite bluntly, if we want
others to hear the gospel, we must hear it ourselves, first! This is not
a case of something that is best left with the hierarchy – essential as
they be to this endeavour. Each one who claims membership of the Church
born at Pentecost must be Pentecostal, that is, spiritual; each
one who owns the Nicene Creed can only be apostolic, that is,
founded on the apostles’ tradition and sent out with a mission.
There are those called to be evangelists. We have many examples of
missionary saints within the Orthodox Church: S.S Cyril and Methodius,
St. Nicholas of Japan, St. Nina of Georgia, St. Herman of Alaska, to
name a few. There are those who, like St Constantine the Great, despite
himself and the times he lived in, opened the door for the ‘Christening’
of a whole empire and became Isa-apostolos (equal to the
apostles). Yet still for us in our place and in our day, in as much as
we have acquired the Holy Spirit and have truly become Pentecostal
Christians (in the real meaning of that term) we can, in the words of
St. Seraphim of Sarov, ‘save thousands around us.’
In the gospel of the miraculous catch of fish
(Luke 5) Peter, witnessing the superabundant grace of Christ, falls at
his feet in repentance. Remembering that true repentance is a longing
for what we might become, it is we, ourselves, having recovered the
image of Christ and striving for the likeness of God, who will draw in
those whom the Lord has called to inherit eternal life.
