Why "Oil and Water"?

Orthodoxy in Progress:

Finding Beauty in the Mystery of Paradox

Expect the Unexpected

        One of the many memorable aphorisms of my late grandfather which has remained with me most clearly and deepened in meaning for me exponentially is, "The more you know, the more you know you don’t know." As an adolescent, I would simply chuckle approvingly at its apparent cleverness, but an age of spiritual, psychological, and theological formation since then has given me a greater appreciation of this wisdom (which happens to be an idea attributed to Plato, apparently) and the beauty of paradox. What my grandfather accepted, and sought to impart, was a humble and reverent submission to the immensity of the mystery and magnitude of our existence, and the incomprehensible beyond. The presence of unknowability and mystery in life is so often conveyed to our imaginations in irony, speculation, or perhaps most acutely, paradox: that which strikes common sense as contradictory to reason while likely carrying with it deeper truths than are readily evident. Quite apparently, perceptions and assumptions are generally insufficient to undertake the pursuit of wisdom; and, in the manifold paradoxes of the universe, even in our own lives, great awe and splendid beauty are present to behold.

        Christianity, not to mention life and existence in general, is rife with irony, mystery, and paradox. You need not delve too extensively into sacred scripture or dogmatic theology to come face to face with the unexpected. One introductory perusal of the Magnificat or the Beatitudes is enough to leave a person confounded. In the words of EWTN founder, Mother Angelica, "The Christian experiences and lives a paradox. [The Christian person] possesses joy in sorrow, fulfillment in exile, light in darkness, peace in turmoil, consolation in dryness, contentment in pain and hope in desolation." Consistent with such a statement is St. Paul's warning to the Church that our Faith is seen as foolishness to many, and no wonder. "These are difficult sayings." In order to "be transformed by the renewing of our minds," we must prostrate before the profound mysteries of God, whose "ways are as high above our ways as the heavens are above the earth," and in so doing, prepare ourselves to grapple with nuance, appreciate irony, and expect the unexpected. In childlike faith, we the Church are not called to shy away from the upheavals of worldly rationalism, nor are we asked to abandon our inevitable curiosities and doubts; Christianity makes space for us to retain our capacity for the heartfelt sensibilities of wonder and awe in childlike faith while not abandoning our propensity for interrogative critical thinking, and this too is paradoxical.

        Among the greatest threats to the vibrance of the human experience, and thus to the Church in the world, is the prevalence of what I refer to as "dualistic absolutism," more commonly called "black and white thinking"—the shallow rigidity and vain fundamentalism which has long run amok in society, wreaking havoc wherever it takes hold. It is that perennially corrupting source of the "us vs. them" and "my way or the highway" ideologies which invariably fuel systemic oppression and lasting violence. Though this has existed from time immemorial, I know I am not alone in observing its rampant promulgation in modernity and blatant display to this very day. A friend of mine once remarked humorously, "two things can be true." It is my fear that far too great a portion of our population are unaware of the truth of that simple phrase and the provision it makes for the depths of nuance required to appreciate our shared human experience and accept the role of paradox in our lives. The famed Roman Catholic author, G. K. Chesterton, in his popular work simply entitled Orthodoxy, states in the sixth chapter, "The Paradoxes of Christianity," that, "The real trouble with this world of ours is not that it is an unreasonable world, nor even that it is a reasonable one. The commonest kind of trouble is that it is nearly reasonable, but not quite. Life is not an illogicality; yet it is a trap for logicians. It looks just a little more mathematical and regular than it is; its exactitude is obvious, but its inexactitude is hidden; its wildness lies in wait… Now, this is exactly the claim which I have since come to propound for Christianity. Not merely that it deduces logical truths, but that when it suddenly becomes illogical, it has found, so to speak, an illogical truth… whenever we feel there is something odd in Christian theology, we shall generally find that there is something odd in the truth." The common absence of any deference to mystery and paradox, I'm afraid, leaves us all in great danger of a most combustible concoction—the insidiously willful ignorance and exact breed of arrogance on which the deceptive principalities of oppression, subjugation, marginalization, and dehumanization so ravenously feed. It remains our individual and collective duty to strive for authenticity and humility as we endeavor to undertake the hard-won process of becoming truly human by embracing the mystery of the divine within and beyond ourselves.

        Having established these introductory concepts, my aim is to illustrate just what "Oil & Water: Orthodoxy in Progress" is all about, why I'm pursuing the establishment of this new outlet, and my hopeful vision for its purpose, Deo volente. I imagine some of you may have already found yourself wondering, "Why 'Oil and Water'?" "What even is this?" "Does the world really need another blog?" My friends, believe me, I have found myself wondering quite the same. 

        Several years ago, I began to receive a number of friendly suggestions that I start a podcast to share my passion for theology, history, social justice, and the human experience from my progressive/leftist Christian point of view, including my own intersectional identities as a gay man and an orthodox catholic Christian, dual realities which many believe should separate like oil and water. This sparked within me the idea of a sort of platform or multi-media project, with the goal of provoking discussion and spreading awareness of the open secret that, between the tenets of orthodox catholic Christianity and the ideologies and causes typically labeled as politically and socially "liberal," there exists a far greater overlap than is commonly construed by the zeitgeist or portrayed by the loudest voices in the room. It is the Gospel of Christ, after all, which commands our welcome of the stranger, care for the poor, and fellowship with the downtrodden.

        The sad fact is that right-wing, quasi-Christian, fundamentalist religious extremism, blared aloud by misinformed innocents and bad-faith actors alike, has boldly and heretically coopted the label of "Christianity," even blaspheming the precious and sacred name of Jesus Christ himself in its veiled yet idolatrous worship of bigotry, systemic oppression, ruthless marginalization, targeted hatred and, of course, money and power—the root of all evil—and this structure of malice and pride must be combatted by all those who take to heart the truth of the Gospel of our "Loving and Liberating Lord." We who serve the God of Love, the Divine Creator whose Good News is intended for the benefit of all creation, have a sacred responsibility to shout "Hosanna!" in the face of those who would sooner crucify their neighbor than countenance the holy prospects of equity, diversity, and inclusion. Additionally, the sorrowful reality we must face is that these dark principalities are not new to the scene. The Deceiver has been at work here since St. Michael cast him down from heaven. However, as the Assembly of the Faithful, we must learn from the sins of our past; we must not fall prey to those who would lead the flock astray to worship the golden calf, nor to those who would follow Caesar over Christ, worship mammon over God, or participate in prejudice rather than communion. In taking up our cross to follow in the footsteps of the extreme humility of Jesus, we must be prepared to face all manner of vitriol as we relentlessly fight the good fight against those wicked and crafty arch-demons of systemic racism, economic injustice, violent warmongering, dangerous transphobia and homophobia, and the exploitation of labor, just to name a few. 

        In the power of the Resurrection, with which we are imbued by the grace of our common baptism, Jesus the Messiah has turned the worldliness of oppressors upside-down. Therefore we must fear no evil as we march onward through this "valley of the shadow of death" and cry out in praise to the one God who, with his disciples, chooses to dine with sex workers rather than religious hypocrites, teaches us to give what we have to the poor rather than lust after capital gain, and rebukes those who would cast his beloved children to the margins. This same Christ who was despised by the wealthy ruling class, who was humbled to the point of public execution at the hands of the colonizing state, who loosed the bonds of those held captive in Hades and assassinated Death with the victory of his Resurrection—this Christ appointed himself then and exhorts us now to "bring good news to the poor," "proclaim the release of captives and recovery of sight to the blind," to "set free those who are oppressed," and "proclaim the Lord's favor"! 

        It is imperative that we live into the paradox of the work and teaching of Jesus Christ, that we feed and refresh those who hunger and thirst, welcome those who immigrate, clothe those in need, care for the sick, and visit those who are imprisoned. My friends, if we are to participate in the ongoing work of the salvation of this fallen creation, if we wish to partake of the Heavenly Banquet set before us, then we have work to do and truth to proclaim. 

        "Oil & Water" is an exercise in the engagement of Christian mystery and paradox and, God willing, will become a source of inspiration to those who encounter it. The mission of this project is to shine the light of Christ, to encourage its readers to be "salt and light" to the world, to spark nuanced dialogue and embrace the paradoxical complexity and simplicity of the Faith. Its vision is the celebration of diverse intersectionality, the promotion of equity and inclusion, and the promulgation of "the Way of Love," that all creation may be reminded of the unconditional Love of our Liberating Lord. As Blessed Mother Teresa said, "I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love."

Water

        I will never forget the experience of being born. And don't worry, I haven’t taken leave of my senses. Rest assured, I do not refer to the physical birth from my mother’s womb, but to my re-birth “of water and the Spirit” into that all-encompassing womb of God’s everlasting love. I am alluding, as you have likely guessed, to the event of my Baptism. As Christians, we are called upon to “remember our baptism,” a directive which may befuddle those who received the grace of that initial sacrament in infancy, but one which is nevertheless truly and wholly realized in the process of salvation and repeatedly affirmed in the Baptismal Covenant.

        Having been initially formed by a tradition which practices credo-baptism, often
called “believer’s baptism” (a moniker which strikes me as so arrogantly pejorative it churns my stomach), I do appreciate the fact that such a transformative encounter with the Triune God began when I was at least relatively cognizant of what was going on—not that anyone has ever fully understood or been “qualified” to receive such a Sacred Mystery, no matter how old or educated. 

        I am thankful to have been baptized at all, by God’s grace, and to have that tangible act etched in my memory forever, but I must admit to the odd sense of a sort of deprivation of the humbly deferential act of communal faith expressed in paedo-baptism. Infant baptism, consistent with traditional Christian precedent (alongside that of adult converts), faithfully confesses the ultimate power of the work of the Godhead by which the Church has welcomed innocent babes into the Body of Christ since the first children were born to the first Christians. As one prone to the embrace of mystery, I have to wonder what it might have been like to grow up having already been entirely surrendered to the holy sacrament in such pure submission as to virtually eliminate the potential temptation for any haughty imaginings of some individual agency in the efficacy of the rite itself. The idea that one must have a strong enough faith or deep enough wisdom to comprehend the immersion of human flesh into the Kingdom of God strikes me as plainly contrary to the doctrine of the free gift of grace.

        However, no matter when, it is in the waters of Baptism that the human person, an icon of the living God, is made new, spiritually and wholly, and powerfully equipped with the sole antidote to death itself. In Christ’s incarnation (or “enfleshment”), the Divine Word assumes humanity and ultimately enthrones it at the right hand of God the Father; in baptism, the human person is enshrouded in the grace of the Divine. If the subsequent sacrament of Confirmation, or Chrismation, is a sort of spiritual sword (to borrow and reimagine St. Paul’s analogy), equipping the baptized person to pierce through the darkness of a fallen world with the very substance of Truth and reminding them that, in Christ’s victory over the grave, death has been assassinated and hell itself has been damned, then Baptism is not only a vast shield, but a whole new suit of impenetrable armor—one in which we are called to march fearlessly against the devices of the Deceiver as members of the Body of Christ.

Oil

        Perhaps even more vividly than my adolescent memory of baptism is my later recollection of
the bestowing of the seal of the Holy Spirit in the sacrament of Chrismation (Confirmation) at my reception into the Antiochian Orthodox Church. Just as the physical reality of water is blessed to convey the inaugural mystery of baptism, the element of sacred oil, or chrism, is traditionally employed in the rite of the chrismation which follows. While some incidental variations exist between the liturgical practices of Eastern and Western Christianity regarding Confirmation and its temporal proximity to baptism, the spiritual and confessional principles of this sacramental anointing with oil and its pentecostal confirmation of a person’s baptism remain substantially similar. In confirmation, the sacramental anointing of the apostolic “laying on of hands” is employed in the formation of disciples of Jesus Christ. 

The Eastern Orthodox Churches actually equate the anointing with oil in the sacred mystery of chrismation with the laying on of hands by the apostles themselves, as the physical chrism oil is still distributed throughout the Eastern Christian world by the Patriarchs of the Apostolic Sees, magnified in importance by the claim that the chrism used to this very day is derived from batches of the holy oil which tradition teaches is still mingled with a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the original oils mixed and consecrated by the Apostles themselves. This remarkable understanding further enriches and proclaims the essential continuity of the Christian Church in not only the liturgical and sacramental reality of the rite, but even the consecrated elements themselves.

Inclusive Orthodoxy

        One of the most prolific Eastern Orthodox Christian theologians of the 20th century, Fr. Alexander Schmemann once stated that "Orthodoxy is, above all, faith that one must live, in which one grows, a communion, a ‘way of life’ into which one is more and more deeply integrated." While the context of his perspective was particular to the traditions of the Eastern Christian Churches, this definition of "orthodoxy," firmly rooted in the fundamental and universal faith held by the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, does a profound service to the comprehension of the term as one which not only concerns the preservation of Christian dogma in its teachings, but just as importantly, in its lived experience as the worshipping community of the baptized. According to St. Prosper of Aquitaine, "Lex orandi, lex credendi" ("the rule of prayer is the rule of belief"). Simply put, the liturgical worship and doctrinal confessions of the Church are inextricably linked.

        I have always found it rather interesting that, in the popular vernacular, the word "unorthodox" is more widely used than its antithesis, and is typically employed to refer to something that is somewhat "outside of the box," or opposed to the normative standard, implicitly defining "orthodox" as that which is authoritatively standardized, rigidly bound by an accepted consensus, or an unquestionable default. For instance, a great deal of the previously outlined exposition of my own values and experiences, and the vision of this project's mission, would most certainly be discounted or even denounced by those who oppose the progressive, revolutionary ideals of liberation and inclusion as quite "unorthodox." Yet, even here we find paradox. Contrary to such a juxtaposition, "orthodoxy," at least in the context of gospel-oriented Christianity, invokes something much more radical than mere conformity or rigidity. In the words of the 19th-century French intellectual, Edgar Quinet, "Universal orthodoxy is enriched by every new discovery of truth." Just as the Church is a living, breathing assembly progressing together in migration to the "promised land" of her fulfillment in the ultimate Resurrection, so too is her orthodoxy—while deeply and firmly rooted in the foundational cornerstone of the Kingdom—"enriched" in the growth and development of its expressions and the impact of its communication of truth, beauty, and goodness. G. K. Chesterton more concisely remarks, "If we want reform, we must adhere to orthodoxy." True orthodoxy is revolutionary in that it finds its source in the proclamation of the fact that "Christ is Risen from the dead, trampling down Death by death, and upon those in the tombs, bestowing life."

        The word "orthodoxy" itself, from the Greek "ορθοδοξία," can be simply translated "straight glory," but is most often interpreted to mean "right-believing." If I may be allowed some linguistic license from a theological perspective, I would much prefer the terms "rightly-glorifying" or, "direct glory," for it is the objective of all orthodox catholic doctrine and practice to directly glorify the Source of Life by the urgings of the Holy Spirit in the communal experience of the journey of the Church. 

        Along similar lines, the word "catholic" (perhaps my favorite descriptor of the Church) is almost invariably understood to refer specifically to that which is of the Apostolic See of the Church of Rome. However, it is essential to understand that—like the definitions of the square and the rectangle—not all catholicism is Roman Catholicism. "Catholic" is, in fact, a profoundly interesting word. While it is typically translated directly as "universal" or "whole," its implications provide a remarkable understanding of its function as a creedal description of the Christian Church. Catholicism, which colloquially evokes that which is particular to the largest Christian denomination on earth, the Roman Catholic Church (one of the five original Apostolic Sees of the Church, along with Jerusalem, Antioch, Alexandria, and Constantinople), transcends its vernacular usage, especially when considered in light of liturgical theology. The Church is catholic not only because of its global and universal participation in the mystical reality of the worshipping assembly of the Body of Christ and the fundamentally essential tenets of its purest and most central dogmatic teachings, but also because it is made whole in the grace of Christ and because "wherever two or three are gathered" in the sacramental worship of the Triune God, there too is the whole universality of the Assembly of the Faithful. In the words of St. Ignatius of Antioch, the disciple of the St. John the Beloved Disciple of Our Lord, "Wherever the Bishop appears, there let the People be; as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church."

We who practice our Christianity within the liturgical, catholic expressions of Christianity are called upon in every prayer and worship service to confess and proclaim the Symbol of the Faith, the summary profession of apostolic Christian doctrine, in the collective recitation of the Nicene Creed, a product of many years of theological precision and prayerful composition throughout the 4th Century A.D. which I like to think of as the "spine" of the Body of Christ. Part of this Statement of Belief which we profess together in corporate worship affirms that we believe in "One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church," which is the Bride of Christ and the continuation of the worship of the people of Israel through the ages of God's revelation to humankind.

        The inclusivity of the orthodox catholic Faith is exhibited in the reality that all are welcome to feast at the banquet table of the Kingdom of Heaven. St. Paul's immortal words to the Galatians are as true to the nature of the Church as its apostolicity and unity: "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Gal. 3:28).

        Recent years have given rise to "inclusive orthodoxy," and an increased awareness of the existence of progressive people of Faith; however, as previously laid out in the description of Christian paradox, the intersection of diverse and seemingly contradictory ideologies and values as a point of human fascination and speculation is not a new phenomenon. Often relegated to the obscurity of marginal spaces, typically beyond the radar of the general public, communities of Faith dedicated to causes frequently considered "progressive" have existed at great length, as well as in great number and with great depth. As I have outlined previously, the titular phrase of this work, “Oil and Water,” evokes not only the common metaphor of the apparent separation of two differing substances, but also two of the most important physical elements utilized in the Sacraments of the orthodox liturgical practices of the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church.

        In the spirit of inclusivity, equity, and justice, “Oil & Water: Orthodoxy in Progress” exists for the exploration and proclamation of the harmony intrinsic to the commonly misunderstood intersection of the orthodox catholic doctrines of Christianity and the fundamental principles of progressive and inclusive ideologies and actionable ideals. Fundamentalist zealotry is itself a threat to the Gospel, and therefore to the life and health of the Church and humanity at large.

        Beloved of God, may we always be the light and salt of the world, may we be empowered by the oil and water of our sacramental union, confounding the world in paradox, and may our radical love for all of creation and our ceaseless prayers in the Spirit change the world, as we continue to engage in the ministry of the Church which has been at work since the Creator breathed life into humankind.

Soli Deo Gloria.