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Bartholomew, the Ecumenical Patriarch of the Orthodox Church (sort of like our Archbishop of Canterbury -- he's the figurehead, but he has no local jurisdiction, as the Pope does for Catholics), has long been called the "Green Patriarch" for his commitment to the environment. The other day, he published an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal about what our commitment to the earth should entail. Excerpt:

Climate change, pollution and the exploitation of our natural resources are commonly seen as the domain not of priests but rather of politicians, scientists, technocrats or interest groups organized by concerned citizens. What does preserving the planet have to do with saving the soul?

A lot, as it turns out. For if life is sacred, so is the entire web that sustains it. Some of those connections--the effects of overharvesting on the fish populations of the North Atlantic, for example--we understand very well. Others, such as the long-term health impacts of industrialization, we understand less well. But no one doubts that there is a connection and balance among all things animate and inanimate on this third planet from the Sun, and that there is a cost or benefit whenever we tamper with that balance.

Moreover, just as God is indivisible, so too is our global environment. The molecules of water that comprise the great North Atlantic are neither European nor American. The particles of atmosphere above the United Kingdom are neither Labour nor Tory. There can be no double vision, no dualistic worldview. Faith communities and nonbelievers alike must focus on the common issue of the survival of our planet. The natural environment unites us in ways that transcend doctrinal differences.

Not all Orthodox agree. From one priest's criticism:

As an Orthodox theologian, Patriarch Bartholomew knows that the human heart seeks not abstract unity but personal communion, not bureaucracy but communion, not the tyranny of sin but true and lasting freedom. In Orthodox theological terms all of this rests in the Most Holy Trinity itself although not on the level of ousia, that is, through the shared divine nature, but by the hypostasis, that is the union of Divine Persons--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Whether in the Holy Trinity or in the human family, personal communion is radically different then the union possessed by "molecules of water" or by "particles of atmosphere." The union of the physical creation is impersonal. There is no communion between molecules of water or particles of air.

Thus the comparison of the human to the non-human world in these terms makes all conversation about what is in our best personal or national interest meaningless. When particularity is subsumed into an abstraction, the differences between people ultimately have no meaning.

This seems wrong to me, by which I mean, I think Father is reading the EP's remarks in a mistaken way. Granted, I'm no theologian, but I don't see what's wrong with what the EP said, in terms of Orthodox metaphysics. Orthodox Christianity is panentheistic , meaning that God is seen as literally present, in his divine energies, in all aspects of Creation. It is a profoundly sacramental view of Creation. To my lay understanding, the EP is simply pointing to the environmental implications of Orthodoxy's panentheism. (Which, by the way, is not the same as pantheism; pantheism says that all things are God; panentheism says that God is in all things. Big difference.)

It is hard for me to be neutral about this, because I know at least one of the seminarians involved here. But here's the news: the Antiochian Orthodox patriarch, Philip, has pulled incoming Antiochian seminarians from the OCA-run seminaries to protest the failure of the OCA to "discipline" online journalist Mark Stokoe, whose website has covered the Antiochian meltdown with the same exhaustive rigor with which he covered a similar crisis in the OCA (of which Stokoe is a communicant). From Stokoe's report:

Towards the end of the 2008-2009 academic year, senior Antiochian faculty at both St. Tikhon's and St. Vladimir's were reported to have met with school administrators with a message from Metropolitan Philip: unless OCANEWS.org, ceased reporting on the Archdiocese there would be "consequences" for the two OCA schools. This same message was relayed to the Administration of the OCA in April 2009. In each instance it was pointed out to Metropolitan Philip that OCANEWS.org is not affiliated in any way with the Orthodox Church in America, nor is Mark Stokoe a "spokesperson" for the OCA, or either seminary. (The site has actually carried a disclaimer to that effect on its homepage since it began publication in 2006.) Neither the OCA Administration, nor the seminaries, have ever had influence on the site's policies or content, although Stokoe is a member of the OCA, and more recently, a member of its 25-member Metropolitan Council.

The connection between Stokoe and the OCA seminaries is even more tenuous: Stokoe graduated from St. Vladimir's more than 25 years ago but has no official ties to the school. He has only visited St. Tikhon's Seminary once in his life. Angry at Stokoe's reporting of troubles in the Antiochian Archdiocese in the wake of the +Philip's attempted demotion of his diocesan bishops to auxiliary status, +Philip was not to be assuaged by the realities of the situation. The OCA was warned that the schools - and the OCA itself - would face repercussions if Stokoe was not silenced.

This is crazy. The OCA can't "silence" a journalist -- nor, in my view, should it. I don't read Stokoe's site closely, and when I have read it, I haven't by any means agreed with everything on it. But I know that it played a critical role in keeping the heat on the corrupt former leadership of the OCA. It is imperative that our church and all churches have independent reporting. That Met. Philip thinks the way to deal with legitimate reporting and critical commentary on his governance is by demanding that other patriarchs attempt to quash the bearer of bad news shows how out of touch he is with this country and the times. In fact, as a journalist and as an Orthodox Christian, I think it's outrageous. Stokoe, writing in the third person, reports that when Orthodox clergy asked for his cooperation:

...Stokoe, on principle, declined to cease publication, likening +Philip's threatened action against the helpless schools to little more than "blackmail". "As recent OCA history has pointed out," he told his callers, "once you give in to the fear of blackmail, the blackmailer controls you. Such threats are unbecoming a Christian Bishop."

Completely agree. I'm very, very sorry that the OCA seminaries are having to suffer, and my heart is broken that these seminarians, including my friend, are having to suffer so grievously. But this tells us a very great deal about Met. Philip, none of it good. It is deeply wrong that he would punish these seminarians and their families, his own church, and the OCA for something that is not their fault, and for which they have no control over. It's tyrannical and unjust, and a sign of weakness, not strength. Sad and disgraceful. Lord, have mercy.

On this week-long visit to Eagle River, Alaska, and the church community of St. John's Cathedral, Matthew and I have been staying in the St. James House on the church property (see right). The house is a special ministry of the cathedral, and indeed was the first building here. This community began a generation ago, when some members of Campus Crusade for Christ bought the land in what was then a rural suburb of Anchorage, and moved out here together. What would become the St. James House was the only building here. It was a Roman Catholic convent; the nuns were winding up their time here -- there was no water on the site, making it unsuitable for the contemplative order -- and sold it to the Evangelical newcomers. Interestingly, the Trappist monk Thomas Merton, whose memoir "The Seven Storey Mountain" played such a pivotal role in my becoming a Christian, visited this house when it was a convent, on what would be his final journey (he died in Asia). He stayed in an old trailer next to the convent, and gave a retreat here for the nuns. I believe he gave it in the room where Matthew and I are staying; it's called the "Thomas Merton Room" here, and there are a couple of images of him framed and on the wall. What a privilege to have this room. Ron Dart tells of Merton's time in Eagle River here. Merton wrote in his journal:

September 18/Eagle River

Alaska -- the Convent of the Precious Blood -- surrounded by woods, with a highway (too) near. The woods of Alaska -- marvelous -- deep in wet grass, fern, rotten fallen trees, big leaved thorn scrub, yellowing birch, stunted fir, aspens. Thick. Humid. Lush. Smelling of life & of rot. Rich Undergrowth, full of mosses, berries -- & probably (in other seasons) flowers. The air is now here cool and sharp as late November in the "outside" (ie. "the States") ("lower 48").

Anyway, the story of how the Evangelicals made a community for themselves in the woods here, came into the Antiochian Orthodox church, and built their beautiful cedarwood cathedral (see left), is a familiar one, at least in Orthodox circles, and I won't retell it here. Today, many of the families from the cathedral live on Monastery Road, which runs in front of the cathedral, and live with a close sense of community. Much of the community's life seems to revolve around St. James House. I was in the kitchen the other night talking to someone about this place, and my friend said that this house, and everything here, grew out of a sense of hospitality that. Fr. Harold Dunaway and his wife established in this place.

"They didn't set out to build all this," my friend said. "They simply started out with a sense of hospitality and welcome to whoever wanted to join, or just spend some time here."

The St. James House has a resident family each year, living in the apartment and overseeing matters. It also has a yearlong residency program for single men and women who want to live in Christian community while working around the church, and at whatever job they can find outside to support themselves. This is a great place to meet Christian wayfarers and pilgrims, and simply to sit around, drink coffee, and get to know them. Last night, several of us were up very late talking about the faith. We heard an astonishing tale of conversion from a 29-year-old Orthodox pilgrim, who had spent many years deeply involved in Eastern religions and New Age, searching for solace and comfort that had been denied him in his difficult and painful childhood. He went to India in search of enlightenment, and immersed himself in Hindu and Buddhist practices. This fantastic book by a Greek Orthodox seeker who went off to India seeking enlightenment, and who nearly lost his soul, could have been told by the young man we heard from last night. In fact, he said he'd read the book, and his experiences were very much like those recounted in the book, even the scary, dark stuff.

Anyway, this fellow last night trekked to the Himalayas, found a hermit's cave with a little door on it left by the last person to live there, shut himself up in the cave on his 28th birthday, and began to meditate. And wonder of wonders, Jesus Christ came to him -- powerfully, overwhelmingly. He absolutely wasn't expecting that. When he emerged from the cave, he was born out of the mountain into a new world, and a new reality. He made his way back to the US eventually, and a short time later into Orthodoxy. He said that a mysterious vision he'd had in the cave only made sense months later, when he was invited to an Orthodox church for vespers, and upon entering recognized it as the place he'd seen in his cave vision. "All I could do was cry and cry," he told us. "I was home."

And now he's living in a monastery on an Alaska island, trying to discern the path of the rest of his life. Which is one reason why he's here this week in Eagle River. I told him that he absolutely had to write the story of his journey, that it was one of the most extraordinary things I'd ever heard (I've only given you the bare bones here). I get the sense that St. James House welcomes lots of wanderers and pilgrims like that young man. The sense of hospitality here is overwhelming. It will be hard to leave, but I hope I have the grace to take some of this spirit home with me.

(By the way, if you're a single Christian serious about your faith but uncertain of your path, and would like to be considered for a yearlong placement in this wonderful house, more information here.)

Isn't this a marvelous face? It belongs to Elder Joseph of Vatopedi, a monk of Mount Athos who died a few weeks ago; this image of Elder Joseph in his casket was taken at his funeral on the holy mountain. Surely this was a man who died at peace with his God and himself. Pray for a good death.

UPDATE: A further thought. The other day I was speaking with an Orthodox friend who had been to Athos on pilgrimage. He said it's an extraordinary environment, as you might imagine, but not the tranquil place you might expect. Rather, he experienced it as a place of great spiritual struggle -- which, of course, it is. But I think most of us imagine that a monastery is a place in which men (or women) retreat to work out their salvation in an atmosphere of leisurely contemplation. This was not how my friend saw it; he said that yes, there was a certain peace present there, but it was palpably hard-won. These men are not, as some might think, spiritual leisure-seekers, but spiritual athletes.

Even so, the smile on Elder Joseph's face is available to us all. But not without heroic work to overcome ourselves, and open ourselves up to the transformative energies of God. A monastery is one place that can happen. Your house or apartment is another -- and that's an unsettling thought, isn't it?

UPDATE.2: We just this morning in Cambridge heard a presentation about economics and rational self-interest. My colleague who gave the talk brought up Jeremy Bentham, the utilitarian philosopher, and pointed out as an aside something interesting about him: how in his will, he requested that his body be permanently on display after death. And so it is, in University College, London: behold, the Benthamite Auto-Icon. Alas, Bentham's actual head came off during preservation, so a wax reproduction now sits atop his decked-out corpse in the Auto-Icon. If you want to see what Bentham's actual mummified noggin looks like, click on through past the jump. It's, um, not so kissable.

Speaking of Salisbury, have you ever heard of the Sarum Rite, a medieval liturgy developed for local use by the Diocese of Salisbury ("Sarum" to the Romans)? It was suppressed after the English Reformation, though celebrated privately by recusant Roman Catholics until they accepted the Tridentine Rite in the 19th century. It is the Western Rite used by certain Orthodox monks in the West (read the Sarum Use -- as it is more properly called -- as celebrated by the Orthodox here).

Is it possible to participate in a Sarum Use liturgy in Salisbury today? I wonder. Do any readers of this blog worship in the Sarum Use?