Antiochian Orthodox Church

, , , , ,

The convert era: What will Orthodox America look like in 2040 (Part II)

, , , , ,
The convert era: What will Orthodox America look like in 2040 (Part II)

The Orthodox baptism rite includes a three-stage exorcism that is extremely detailed about the spiritual warfare that surrounds new Christians.

Finally, there is this appeal to God: "Redeeming this Your creature from the yoke of the Enemy, receive him (her) into Your heavenly Kingdom. … Yoke unto his (her) life a shining Angel to deliver him (her) from every plot directed against him (her) by the Adversary, from encounter with evil, from the noon-day demon, and from evil dreams. Drive out from him (her) every evil and unclean spirit, hiding and lurking in his (her) heart."

The "Enemy" is Satan. Catechumens are asked, three times: "Do you renounce Satan, and all his works, and all his worship, and all his angels, and all his pomp?" They respond: "I do renounce him."

After several years of conversations while travelling nationwide, Father Andrew Stephen Damick is convinced these ancient prayers are painfully relevant to many converts surging into the small, but now growing, "Eastern Church" in America. It is no longer unusual to meet converts who have worshipped other gods and spirits.

"There's a sense of disenchantment, both in the sense of people feeling disillusioned and sort of bummed by the culture in general, but also disenchantment in the sense of a disconnection from the unseen spiritual world," said Damick, of the online Ancient Faith Ministries.

The converts want stability and guidance. Damick, via Zoom, stressed that many have "experienced the darkness of the unseen spiritual world and want to know what to do about that."

During a recent online forum -- "American Orthodoxy in 2040" -- Seraphim Rohlin, a data scientist who is also a deacon in the Orthodox Church in America, described a survey of converts in the Dallas area. As expected, 50% were former evangelicals, but 25% were former Catholics and 25% were truly "unchurched," including some neopagans. After a surge of young male converts, Orthodox leaders are now tracking a larger wave of young families.

As with many faith groups, some Orthodox parishes declined during the coronavirus pandemic. Other parishes stalled. Still, there have been pockets of Orthodox growth across the nation, even in areas with plateaued or declining population numbers. The biggest surge is in the Sun Belt and West, with numerous parishes doubling and tripling in size.

, , , , , , ,

Ancient churches of Orthodoxy are being flooded with American converts (Part I)

, , , , , , ,
Ancient churches of Orthodoxy are being flooded with American converts (Part I)

For Orthodox Christians in America, the 20th century was shaped by waves of believers fleeing wars, revolutions and persecution in lands such as Greece, Syria, Russia and Romania.

The Orthodox did everything they could to preserve their faith and cultural traditions. When bishops visited these small flocks, it was rare to see converts.

Then, in the late 1980s, flocks of evangelical Protestants swept into the Antiochian Orthodox church and then the Orthodox Church in America, which has Slavic roots. These converts began reaching out to others. Then came the seeker-friendly Internet. Then came COVID. Suddenly, streams of young families began exploring what was often called the mysterious, ancient "Eastern Church."

"Some observers liken this influx to a flood, and the comparison is accurate. I do not visit a parish without meeting catechumens there. In some parishes, they number more than 100," said Metropolitan Saba, leader of the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America, in a recent Denver address.

"While many long-standing believers see in the converts a source of renewal and vitality -- and a spur to discover their own Orthodoxy personally and deeply, not merely as a social religious tradition -- many also feel somewhat threatened by the cultural changes occurring in their parish."

In a survey of his priests, Saba said, one wrote: "The century of the 'church of immigrants' has ended; the century of evangelization has begun. Orthodoxy's mission is no longer primarily geographical … but existential."

Orthodox Christianity remains a small flock in America, with 2-3 million believers in 2,000 parishes. The Pew Research Center has estimated that, globally, there are 260 million Orthodox Christians, the next largest communion after the Catholic Church with 1.4 billion.

The bottom line: The catechumenate class numbers are staggering.

, , , , , , ,

The church bombing in ancient Damascus: This was more than a political drama

, , , , , , ,
The church bombing in ancient Damascus: This was more than a political drama

The faithful gathered for a more than symbolic rite at St. Elias Orthodox Church in Damascus -- the Feast of all Antiochian Saints.

During this June 22 service, a jihadist -- Syria blamed the Islamic State -- entered with a rifle and began firing. As worshippers tackled him, he detonated an explosive vest. In seconds the Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch had more names to add to its two millennia of saints and martyrs.

"Among the spirits of the righteous perfected in faith, give rest, O Savior, to the souls of Your servants, keeping them in the blessed life which is from You, O loving One," Orthodox believers prayed this past Sunday, in global memorial prayers for the new martyrs of Syria.

"In Your place of rest, O Lord, where all Your Saints repose, give rest also to the souls of Your servants, for You alone are immortal." Bishops circulated names to be read aloud: "Nabil, Emile, Souliman, Simon, Abdullah, Amal, Milad, Razzouk, Farid, Peter, Georgios, Mariam, Susan, Julia, Metanios, Maen, Laurance, Anjie. …"

In a funeral for many of the martyrs, Antiochian Patriarch John X preached about the past, the present and the life to come.

"You, beloved martyrs, have left us and were translated to heaven, to eternal life, in the presence of the Lord Who rose from the dead," he said, in an online translation from Arabic. "You were martyred and entered into eternal life … joining the company of all righteous and holy Antiochian Saints, and all the saints. Today, we turn to you. We ask you to pray for us, now that you rest in the Lord's embrace."

It's hard to shock believers in sanctuaries surrounded by centuries of war, conquest and terror. Young people saw three of the faithful attempt to push the attacker away from the flock inside St. Elias.

"Grace, Peter and Milad. I know them personally," said Patriarch John. "These are our people and our heroes. … They would have done the same and protected the people around them even if they were in the mosque."

The political context was significant and, thus, dominated mainstream news reports. BBC noted: "It was the first such attack in Damascus since Islamist-led rebel forces overthrew Bashar al-Assad in December, ending 13 years of devastating civil war."

But, for Christians around the world, this attack also took place in an ancient, truly biblical context.

, , , , , , ,

Is this a news story? Yet another threat to the ancient churches of Syria

, , , , , , ,
Is this a news story? Yet another threat to the ancient churches of Syria

In the Triumph of Orthodoxy service on the first Sunday of Great Lent, the clergy and faithful proclaim -- with many shouting -- bold statements of faith from the year 787, after decades of persecution.

"This is the Faith of the Apostles! This is the Faith of the Fathers! This is the Faith of the Orthodox! This is the Faith, which has established the Universe!"

These words were especially poignant during the March 9 rites at the Mariamite Cathedral of Damascus, amid reports that hundreds, maybe thousands, of Christians and members of the Muslim Alawite sect have been killed by Islamist militias in Syria.

The Antiochian Orthodox Patriarch John X addressed part of his sermon, by name, to the nation's interim president Ahmad al-Sharaa, the former ISIS and al-Qaeda militant who is also known as Abu Mohammad al-Julani.

"Mr. President, two days ago, I heard a sheikh, a friend of mine, publicly say that the Noble Prophet [Mohammad] instructed his followers that, 'If they go to war against a people, they must not harm the innocent, must not betray, must not mutilate, must not kill a woman or a child, and if they find a monk in his hermitage, they must not kill him,'" he said, in a translation by the ancient Antiochian patriarchate.

The patriarch added: "The tragic events unfolding in the Syrian coastal region have claimed the lives of many civilians and public security personnel, leaving numerous others wounded. However, the majority of the victims were not affiliated with any militant factions -- rather, they were innocent, unarmed civilians, including women and children."

In a Reuters interview, al-Sharaa vowed to stop the violence, adding: "We won't accept that any blood be shed unjustly, or goes without punishment or accountability, even among those closest to us. … Many parties entered the Syrian coast, and many violations occurred" while combatants sought "revenge."

In the chaos, journalists have struggled to confirm statistics about fatalities, while waves of social-media videos claim to show crucified Christians, Alawites being beaten, militants firing machine guns into houses, women being paraded naked and bodies stacked near streets.

, , , , ,

Familiar tragedy in Syria: The Orthodox shepherds of Aleppo are still missing

, , , , ,
Familiar tragedy in Syria: The Orthodox shepherds of Aleppo are still missing

Metropolitan Paul Yazigi had no way to know that he was about to vanish into the chaos of the Turkish-Syrian border during the violent rise of the Islamic State.

"If we want to be good children to God, then we don't thank Him only when He gives us [blessings]," he said, in one of his final sermons (translated from Arabic) before he was kidnapped on April 22, 2013.

"Also, when we are hurting, we say to Him: 'Your hand must be taking care of us, and we thank You.' …A Christian is a creature that gives thanks to God for all things one knows and doesn't know, for both the good and the hardships one faces in his life."

Sermons about faith and suffering are always timely in ancient churches.

The bishops of Aleppo, Syria -- Metropolitan Yazigi and Metropolitan Yohanna Ibrahim of the Syriac Orthodox Church -- disappeared 10 years ago while seeking the release of two kidnapped priests. Their car was surrounded by a pack of armed men, as they maneuvered through risky checkpoints near west of Aleppo. Their driver died in the gunfire, but a survivor later testified that the kidnappers were not speaking Arabic and appeared to be from Chechnya.

There were no ransom demands from the terrorists. The shepherds of Aleppo simply vanished, inspiring few headlines outside the Middle East.

The 10-year anniversary passed quietly this spring, after years of special prayers during Orthodox worship services around the world.

"I don't think anyone can assume, at this point, that they are still living. But there is a sense that we don't know enough about what happened to have a sense of closure," said Father Thomas Zain, dean of St. Nicholas Antiochian Orthodox Cathedral in Brooklyn, New York.

"It's likely that they were kidnapped in Turkish territory, which added another level of complexity to the political situation." Many have concluded that the gunmen "didn't know who they had kidnapped. When they realized what kind of mistake they had made, they may have killed them immediately and moved on."

A joint statement from the two churches marking the anniversary was especially poignant since the leader of the ancient Antiochian Orthodox patriarchate is more than Metropolitan Yazigi's "brother" bishop -- they are actually brothers from the same family.

, , , , , ,

Prayers for the Orthodox bishops of Aleppo, even if #BringBackOurBishops didn't go viral

, , , , , ,

Once again, the Orthodox bishops of Aleppo ventured into the dangerous maze of checkpoints manned by competing forces along Syria's border with Turkey.

The goal, three years ago, was for Metropolitan Paul Yazigi of the Antiochian Orthodox Church and Metropolitan Yohanna Ibrahim of the Syriac Orthodox Church to help negotiate the release of two priests who had been kidnapped weeks earlier. Then, west of Aleppo, a pack of unidentified armed men attacked.

The bishops' driver was killed in the gunfire. A fourth passenger escaped and then testified -- consistent with other reports -- that the kidnappers did not speak Arabic and appeared to from Chechnya.

The bishops simply vanished. According to a new World Council of Arameans report: "No one has ever claimed responsibility for the abduction, neither has there been a clear sign of life of the bishops since April 22, 2013." Later reports were "all based on unverified rumors, hearsay and false reports which often contradicted each other."

This kidnapping never inspired global news coverage. For some reason, tweeting out #BringBackOurBishops never caught on with hashtag activists inside the Washington Beltway or in Hollywood.

But millions of Eastern Orthodox Christians -- especially those with Syrian and Lebanese roots -- are still praying for the bishops of Aleppo. These prayers escalated with the three-year anniversary of the kidnappings and then, this week, with the sobering rites of Holy Week leading to Good Friday, Holy Saturday and, finally, Pascha -- Easter ...

, , , ,

Memory eternal, for a quiet giant in American Orthodoxy

, , , ,

FRANKLIN, Tenn. -- It was a typical evangelistic crusade in rural Alabama and, as he ended his sermon, the Rev. Gordon Walker called sinners down to the altar to be born again.

Most Southern towns have a few notorious folks who frequent the back pews during revival meetings, trying to get right with God. On this night, one such scalawag came forward and fell to his knees. 

"Preacher! I've broken all the Ten Commandments except one," he cried, "and the only reason I didn't break that one was that the man I shot didn't die!"

It didn't matter that this man repeated this ritual several times during his troubled life, said Walker, telling the story decades later at Holy Cross Orthodox Church outside Baltimore. Now wearing the golden robes of an Eastern Orthodox priest, Walker smiled and spread his arms wide. The church, he said, has always known that some people need to go to confession more than others. The goal was to keep walking toward the altar.

With his gentle smile and soft Alabama drawl, Walker -- who died on July 23 -- was a key figure in an unusual American story. The former Southern Baptist pastor and Campus Crusade evangelist was part of a circle of evangelical leaders that spent a decade reading church history before starting an Orthodox church for American converts. Then in 1987, the late Metropolitan Philip Saliba accepted more than 2,000 pastors and members of their Evangelical Orthodox Church into the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America.

, , , , , , , , ,

Ancient sacraments vs. paperwork for the modern state

, , , , , , , , ,

Father Patrick Henry Reardon's note to his flock at All Saints Orthodox Church was short and simple -- yet a sign of how complicated life is becoming for traditional religious believers.

"Because the State of Illinois, through its legislature and governor's office, has now re-defined marriage, marriage licenses issued by agencies of the State of Illinois will no longer be required (or signed) for weddings here at All Saints in Chicago," he wrote, in the parish newsletter.

The key words were "or signed." The veteran priest was convinced that he faced a collision between an ancient sacrament and new political realities that define a civil contract. Reardon said he wasn't trying to "put my people in a tough spot," but to note that believers now face complications when they get married -- period.

The question priests must ask, when signing marriage licenses, is "whether or not you're acting on behalf of the state when you perform that rite. It's clear as hell to me that this is what a priest is doing," said Reardon, reached by telephone.

"Lay people don't face the sacramental question like a priest. They are trying to obtain the same civil contract and benefits as anyone else and they have to get that from the state. It's two different moral questions."

This is a timely question, as the U.S. Supreme Court nears a crossroads on same-sex marriage.

, , ,

The death of an Orthodox visionary -- in America

, , ,

When major religious leaders die, it's traditional that public figures -- secular and sacred -- release letters expressing sorrow and sending their condolences to the spiritual sheep who have suddenly found themselves without a shepherd. This is precisely what Greek Orthodox Archbishop Demetrios Trakatellis did, acting as chairman of the assembly of America's Eastern Orthodox bishops, after he heard about the death of Metropolitan Philip Saliba -- the leader of the Antiochian Orthodox Christians in North America for a half century. His letter was kind and gracious, but contained a hint of candor that spoke volumes.

"For more than 15 years I have had the opportunity and privilege to work closely with Metropolitan Philip," wrote Archbishop Demetrios, noting that the Antiochian leader served as vice-chairman of the assembly of bishops. Metropolitan Philip was a pastor to his people, but he also "passionately supported a common witness to our Orthodox faith in the world. It is well known that he spoke his mind openly on a number of important issues and would often challenge inactivity surrounding serious issues, which he felt Orthodoxy could address in unique and important ways."

That's one way to put it.

Metropolitan Philip -- who died March 19th -- was more than an advocate for Orthodox life and faith. He was more than a pragmatic strategist who helped his flock grow from 66 parishes to 275, while opening youth camps and a missions and evangelism office.

The Lebanese-born archbishop was also a fierce advocate of Orthodox unity in the United States, to whatever degree possible among Greeks, Arabs, Russians, Ukrainians, Romanians, Serbians and others. After living his adult life in this land, he made the controversial decision in the mid-1980s to embrace waves of evangelical converts (I am one of them). These converts affected all levels of his church including, as much as anywhere else, in seminaries and, thus, at Orthodox altars.

That was the backdrop to the symbolic moment when Archbishop Demetrios surprised Metropolitan Philip by asking him to make some off-the-cuff remarks at the 2004 Clergy-Laity Congress of the Greek Orthodox Church in New York City.

"I reminded him that when I speak, I tell it like it is," said Philip, when I interviewed him for an "On Religion" column soon after that event.

Rather than speaking in Byzantine code, Metropolitan Philip bluntly addressed the delegates as Americans, not Greeks. He said he thought it was time to challenge ecclesiastical ties that continued to bind their churches in the new world to those in the old. Then he marched straight into a minefield, bringing greetings from the Antiochian Orthodox delegates who, a few days earlier, had unanimously approved what many Greeks have long desired -- a constitution granting them more control of their church in North America.

"I told them that if I could sum up this new constitution, I would begin with the words, 'We the people,' " he told me. "We cannot ignore this truth -- Americans are infested with freedom. We cannot ignore that our churches are in America and we are here to stay."

A press aide for the Greek archdiocese noted: "It would be accurate to say that he received an enthusiastic response."

Part of the problem was that Philip was intentionally calling to mind the 1994 gathering in Ligonier, Pa., when America's Orthodox bishops boldly declared: "We commit ourselves to avoiding the creation of parallel and competitive Orthodox parishes, missions, and mission programs. We commit ourselves to common efforts and programs to do mission, leaving behind piecemeal, independent, and spontaneous efforts … moving forward towards a concerted, formal, and united mission program in order to make a real impact on North America through Orthodox mission and evangelism."

That effort failed. Two decades later, Metropolitan Philip left instructions that he was to be buried at the Antiochian Village camp near Ligonier, where young people will visit his grave for generations to come.

"This faith was to remain the best kept secret in America because of our laziness, we Orthodox, because we have been busy taking care of our little ethnic ghettos," said Philip, during one of the first rites ushering an entire evangelical congregation into his archdiocese.

"It is time that we let this light shine. American needs the Orthodox faith. I said to the Evangelical Orthodox in these past Sundays, I said, 'Welcome home.'"