Lenten Reflections: The Backstory

One of my New Years resolutions was to be more spiritually serious. I am an Orthodox Christian. In many ways I am a little peculiar in my community. My family has grown to love our church. It is both orthodox and southern at the same time. Southern Fried Orthodoxy, we call it. I am also an academic, attending a notoriously liberal institution. One of the first things people began asking me when they got to know me (and one of the first things new friends still do) is, "Isn't Vanderbilt a liberal school?" I can always detect a bit of alarm in the question. I remember one conversation with a man who later became a good friend. He was very kind, but he was also somewhat flabbergasted that I was a Vanderbilt theologian and that I was interested in Orthodoxy. "Why Vanderbilt?" he asked. Or maybe it was "Why Orthodoxy?" The point is that the two seemed irreconcilable. (He is probably still flabbergasted.)

Of course, I've always enjoyed being a self-contradiction. So I don't fault the alarm or confusion. It's my own fault. I am not sure if I should be considered theologically liberal or not. I guess it depends on who is asking. I am socially conservative. I would probably say I am fiscally conservative as well. But I've not voted for Bush in either election. I once voted for Nader, simply as a protest vote against a two-party system. But this was when the state I was living in was sure to drown my little green vote in its red sea. I casted it in the hope that the Green Party could get enough of the popular vote to get more federal funding (it didn't), not that I'm a member of the Green party, or even aligned with its positions. Call me crazy, but I just think that the clearest solutions to problems arise when a number of different voices are included in the debate.

That's me, politically liberal, socially and fiscally conservative, theologically (probably) liberal enough Orthodox Christian.

I think, at least I hope, that those who know me well know that in all things I try my best to be a dutiful son of Mother Church (to use the phrase coined by early African Christians). I usually fail. St. Paul talked about running the good race, but I tend to limp more than I lope.

Like I said, this blog is my attempt to keep one of my New Year's resolutions. I'm not really sure myself what I mean when I say "spiritually serious." I probably mean that I should pray more, attend more services, keep up with the daily readings. Try to include some edifying books in all this "hifalutin" theological stuff I read. At the beginning of the year I also envisioned something like a public forum for me to engage during Lent, a space for me to reflect on my experiences. Making it public will hopefully keep me accountable to journal through this 40+ day journey (it's actually closer to 60 when you crunch the numbers). So this blog is more for me than for anyone.

Orthodox Lent (Great Lent) will begin in about two weeks. I will try to post something every few days to once a week. For theologians like myself, abstraction can be a defense mechanism. So as much as I possibly can I will try to keep my thoughts refined, but I will also try to focus on the nitty-gritty of everyday practice. One thing I will not talk about is fasting. For some reason this seems to be the one aspect of Orthodox spirituality that people find most interesting. Of course, eating is important, but it is not the most important part of the fast. A person can avoid all the right, or in this case wrong, foods and still not fast properly. I will use the word, and I may talk about "the fast," but don't expect a daily menu from me. I am the kind of person who can turn what I do and do not eat into a cause for boasting. (But if someone is dying to know, yes I fast, and God willing you will never know about it.)

Forgiveness Vespers is the beginning of Great Lent. Orthodox Christians do not practice Ash Wednesday. But we do begin our journey by remembering our sins and by begging forgiveness.