Over the years, I’ve received numerous search engine hits for things like Orthodoxy for dummies or how to make an Orthodox prostration. It made me realize that a brief list of basic practices for new people could be helpful.
The first and best place to learn the externals of Orthodox worship is in your local parish. While some local customs will vary, the externals as a whole are part of our living tradition and will be fairly consistent (especially in monasteries).
In the 4th century, St. Basil the Great wrote about Christians standing during worship, facing east in prayer, making the sign of the cross, worship on Sunday, and numerous other practices that he states came from the apostles through oral tradition. Even the hymn “O Gladsome Light” was quite ancient by his time.
These practices are not superstitious or arbitrary rules. Each one carries with it theological significance. Additionally, we as human beings are composed of both a body and a soul, and we unite those things when we worship in Orthodoxy. By following these practices, we mystically enter into the life of the Church, joining all the Christians who are still alive in Christ. We are unified in theology, practice, and spirit with our brothers and sisters from all ages.
This article will focus on worship in the church. This is not meant to be an all-encompassing list of external piety, but simply a guide to help beginners feel a little less awkward when embarking down the Orthodox Road. With each practice, I attempt to describe what is done and also why we do it.
Orthodox Worship in The Public Church
Standing during worship
One of the most difficult practices for those who are new is standing for worship. Except during the homily, a Christian should remain standing during the entire service – if he has the strength and health to do so. Many people have health complications or lack the strength to stand the entire time, so seating is provided. But we make an effort to stand for as much of the service as is possible.
Many churches have seats or pews, others have none. Visitors should wear comfortable standing shoes so they are prepared in case there is not adequate seating.
There are certain parts of the service where everyone who is physically capable should stand, including: the Gospel reading, the Small and Great entrances, when being censed, and during Communion.
Why do we stand during worship? Standing helps clear the mind, while sitting can cause one to grow too comfortable and begin to daydream. Also, standing indicates active engagement in worship. Sitting indicates passive observation. During prayer, we offer ourselves as living sacrifices to God. The posture of standing allows us to make a very small sacrifice (our temporary comfort) in order to be respectful of Christ’s presence and to show our love for him.
When a world leader such as the President of the United States enters a room, what do people do? They stand out of respect. What should we do when the King of kings and Lord of lords, the Creator of the entire cosmos enters into our space? We should stand in reverence of His presence, even if we cannot feel it.
Facing east in prayer and worship
And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east; and there he put the man whom he had formed. (Gen. 2:8)
Look toward the east, O Jerusalem, and see the joy that is coming to you from God! (Baruch 4:36)
For as the lightning comes from the east and shines as far as the west, so will be the coming of the Son of man. (Matt. 24:27)
Since the time of the Apostles, Christians have faced eastward in prayer. Just as the rising of the sun in the east dispels the darkness of night, so the return of the Son of God will dispel the darkness of our present age. In the direction in which we orient our bodies, we proclaim our faith in Christ’s second coming and look for Eden, our paradisaical home in the east. Therefore, in most parishes, Orthodox Christians will face east during worship. In the home, the icon corner is also normally located on an eastern wall.
Making the sign of the cross
We Christians wear out our foreheads with the sign of the cross – Tertullian (ca. AD 200)
The Orthodox Christian makes the sign of the cross by placing his thumb to his first two fingers to symbolize the Trinity, and the remaining two fingers rest against his palm to symbolize the two natures of Christ (divine and human). The right hand holds this form as it is moved from the forehead, to the navel, to the right shoulder, and then to the left shoulder. This traces the cross on the entire upper body.
It is an ancient symbol that has cured people of diseases, driven out demons, and worked all sorts of miracles. It’s not magical, but when done with faith, it’s powerful.
It is customary to make the sign of the cross during prayer and also before icons and relics, but not before people such as priests and bishops when they are blessing the faithful. You also don’t need to cross yourself before receiving a blessing from a bishop or priest.
Reverencing icons
Icons and relics should be treated as if the saint is actually present, because they do manifest the presence of the saint, especially for one who approaches with faith.
When moving forward to venerate an icon or relic, the Christian should make the sign of the cross twice, bowing from the waist after each Cross. Then he or she kisses the icon (or relic), and then make one more sign of the cross with a bow from the waist. At certain times (such as during the Exaltation of the Cross), the faithful will make a prostration instead of a simple bow from the waist – even on Sundays.
Where to kiss?
Icons are typically kissed on the hand or foot of the person portrayed, but never on the face or in any other way that is disrespectful. The person in the icon should be looked upon as our master and not our buddy because, at this point, they are glorified and we are still in our sins. We need their help, they do not need our petitions.
When entering a Church, it is an excellent practice to venerate the icons that have been placed in the Church for such reverence. This practice helps the worshiper to enter into a spiritual mindset. Normally, the icons on the iconostas (the panel separating the altar from the rest of the church) are not venerated. There are various reasons, but the most practical is that these are often expensive, hand-painted icons that will sustain heavy damage if frequently venerated.
If the icon is not covered in a glass case/frame, refrain from venerating it while wearing lip products (lip stick, chapstick, etc.). The oils and chemicals in such products will deteriorate the finish on icons. Most lip products are petroleum based, which is like kryptonite on the finish of an icon. But even the oils in the natural ones can do harm.
Also, if you come in late, do not go up to venerate the icons if there is a procession happening, a Gospel or Epistle reading, or at any point when the priest is facing the people.
For more on why we venerate icons, check out this article.
Making prostrations
O come, let us worship and bow down, let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker! (Psalm 95:6, Masoretic text)
The prostration is typically performed all at once, so that the Christian bows to the ground and then immediately rises. The worshiper gently falls to his hands and knees, places his forehead on the ground above his hands, and then rises back to his feet.
Prostrations are infrequently practiced in parishes because the most common service that people attend is the Divine Liturgy on Sundays. That day is a weekly celebration of the resurrection and our adoption as children of God, so prostrations are uncommon.
When and how to do a prostration during weekday services is best discovered simply by following the example of those around you. The best rule I can give anyone is what I learned in a monastery: don’t do anything that makes you stick out. It’s easy to become proud, which is why we have the Publican and not the Pharisee as our model (Lk. 18:9-14).
Kneeling at will, beating the chest, shouting, and other extravagant outward displays are fine in a jungle but are not acceptable in church. I write that somewhat jokingly, but some of the Church Fathers have had to write against such unruly behavior, and coming from a Charismatic background, I’ve seen some crazy things.
Lighting a candle
Lighting a candle and placing it before an icon of our Lord or a saint’s icon is a long-standing tradition. We light the candle and ask our Lord (or a saint) for help, for prayers, etc. The lit candle represents our prayers, and the light also represents the prayers of the Church dispelling the darkness of this world with God’s light. The small fee we pay for the candle shows our seriousness in making the prayer (and it often helps a little to support the local church).
Dressing properly (clergy and laity)
When visiting an Orthodox church, here are the most conservative dress standards:
Laity:
- For men: dress pants or khakis with a collared shirt.
- For women: a modest top with a skirt or a dress, preferably at least knee length. Maybe a head covering. See below for more details.
- For both: No colognes, perfumes, or flashy jewelry. The purpose of gathering to worship is just that: worship, not attracting attention to ourselves.
Clergy:
- For readers and subdeacons: wear your cassock at your home parish. When visiting other parishes, you would typically only wear your cassock if asked to serve. When I was a reader and subdeacon, I left my cassock in the car when visiting another church. If asked to serve, I would retrieve it from the car.
- For deacons and priests: wear your cassock for all church services, at home and when visiting other places.
- For all clergy: inform the parish priest of your visit ahead of time, especially if you walk in wearing a cassock. This is in keeping with the church canons.
The above rules are based on my experience in OCA, Carpatho-Russian, and ROCOR parishes and monasteries. Some parishes will vary depending on their culture and geographical location. What I detailed above is conservative, and it is best to err on the conservative side when visiting an unfamiliar church. Most parishes will accept anyone who is at least making an attempt to dress as respectfully as they know how, particularly if the person is visiting. Services outside of Sunday morning liturgy tend to be more casual because some people come there straight from work (or on their way to work).
If visiting a monastery, check their website for information on how to dress. They tend to be very traditional.
A note on head coverings: they are used in many parishes and nearly all monasteries, but some have no rules about them. Head coverings have been used by Christian women since the first century. It is even addressed in the Bible (1 Cor. 11). It is not a symbol of bondage or oppression, but rather a symbol to the spiritual world that this woman is covered (protected) by the authority of her Husband Christ (if she is unmarried) or by her husband in the flesh who is under Christ. St. Paul wrote very mysteriously about this matter but seemed to stress that it had spiritual significance beyond what our eyes can see.
Greeting a priest/bishop
For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel. (1 Cor. 4:15)
Generally, priests are addressed as “Father” and bishops as “Master,” for the latter are Christ’s presence among us, as the apostles taught (see the letters of St. Ignatius of Antioch).
When greeting a priest, the Christian crosses his right hand over his left hand, saying, “Father, bless.” The priest will say something like, “The Lord blesses,” while making the sign of the cross over your hands. The priest then places his right hand on your hands. You then bow to kiss the right hand of the priest. Traditionally, this is how clergy and laity greet one another on a daily basis.
St. John Chrysostom stated that if a Christian were to meet an angel and a priest walking together, that he should greet the priest first and receive his blessing, for he is a conduit of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Even if the priest is not very saintly, the grace of the Lord is still upon him due to his office held in the Body of Christ.
The same etiquette is followed with bishops except one says, “Master bless” when crossing their hands. If a room has several priests and a bishop, the Christian typically refrains from asking the priests for a blessing and only asks the bishop.
Normally, the priest’s left hand is not kissed. We kiss the right hand of the priest for it is through the priest’s right hand that the Holy Spirit comes upon the Eucharistic elements and transforms them into the Body and Blood of Christ during the Divine Liturgy.
Kissing the chalice
On a similar note, many Orthodox Christians will kiss the chalice after receiving communion. Before performing this pious custom, the Christian should wait until his or her lips have been wiped clean with the communion cloth. Doing so ensures our Lord’s precious Body and Blood are not accidentally smeared on the chalice.
The order should go something like this: the person receives communion, he has his mouth wiped, the priest lifts the chalice, and the person kisses the bottom portion of it.
In some places, there is a tradition to kiss the priest’s hand that is holding the chalice and the top of the chalice. This is discouraged in most places because it increases the risk that the chalice could be knocked a little too hard and its contents spilled. If it is the practice in your parish (or one that you visit) to venerate the priest’s hand and the chalice, do so carefully.
A bit off topic, but if you ever feel unbalanced or weak when approaching the chalice, put your hand on the shoulder or arm of one of the altar servers to help you keep your balance. I once saw a lady grab onto the priest when she lost her balance and it spilled the chalice everywhere, causing a huge mess.
Addressing monks/novices
Monks are addressed as “Father.” Not nearly all of them are priests, but all are still addressed with respect. Ordinary monks are not ordained to the priesthood and will not give a priestly blessing (though you certainly may ask for their prayers). Usually, hieromonks (priest-monks) wear pectoral crosses and that is how they can be distinguished from the other monks. You can ask a hieromonk for a blessing just as you would any other priest.
Novices are addressed as “Brother.” If you’re uncertain, simply ask. Most of them were new once, especially here in America, so they don’t mind.
I have not visited a women’s monastery, but the rules I believe are pretty much the same: female monastics are addressed as either “Mother” or “Sister” depending on their rank.
Worshiping on Sunday
The Orthodox, like the disciples of Christ, worship on the day of the Lord’s resurrection. As the Book of Acts indicates, the disciples went to the Jewish Temple on the Sabbath (Saturday), but they had their own Christian worship on Sundays. Some fringe groups claim that Saturday is the true day Christians should worship in church, but the founders of these groups are both theologically and historically ignorant.
Every Sunday is a miniature Pascha (Easter) in which the Body and Blood of Christ are received by the faithful for the remission of sins and life eternal as we celebrate the glorious resurrection of our Lord and look forward to our own. Our Lord died on the sixth day (Friday), rested in the tomb on the seventh day (Saturday), and arose on the eighth day (Sunday).
Sunday in Greek is Κυριακή, which means “Lord’s Day.” Symbolically, it is a never-ending day, therefore it is fitting to worship on the eighth day. When we worship, we enter into a time outside of time, proclaiming our life and resurrection in the Lord. That is why we worship on what should properly be thought of as the eighth day; the day that is the culmination of all days, the fulfillment of all ages.
Feel free to leave any extra tips in the comments below. I know I’ve left out quite a few things, but hopefully this will address a majority of questions.
Lastly, this can all sound overwhelming or like a bunch of silly rules. If you’re new, try not to sweat it. You’ll pick up on these things as you go along. The rules are not arbitrary, but they’re also not the equivalent of a New Testament Law of Moses. No one is going to stone you if you miss something. Most people probably won’t even notice. More than anything, focus on prayer and drawing close to God. Eventually, these things will become a part of you and how you worship.
Good summary. I very much like your wording about “uniting” body and spirit in worship; that is exactly it. Poor body; it is so often neglected, punished, and oppressed when it ought to be sanctified, discipled, and enlightened.
Head coverings is a touchy subject, but I have tried not to be noisy about it, which I’m thankful for now as my views have substantially changed. Of course head coverings in St. Paul’s day and even in John Chrysostom’s were full veils, exactly as female monastics wear today. Chrysostom says that women shouldn’t even reveal their necks. It’s unsatisfactory to me to see a woman with a little napkin on her head at worship who goes about with a bare head in her husband’s presence or in Christ’s presence – that is to say, all the time. It is equally unsatisfactory to see a woman who goes about with a little napkin on her head all the time – or even an Amish covering, which leaves the neck bare.
When I first became Orthodox, I was very enthusiastic about head coverings, even though I had rejected them as a Protestant. I even did an art project where I photographed myself wearing about 20 different attractive veils and hats of my own design. I felt, and still feel, that women’s fashion misses something essential without headwear. I think that the missing headgear is probably the primary cause of the shift to twig-like model proportions and skin-tight clothing that have dominated the fashion industry ever since hats were discarded; it is the unbalanced aesthetic of small bare head atop massy clothed body that pushes things in this direction. And we know, of course, that there was deep resistance to traditional sexuality involved in the tossing out of hats, which is all that was left of traditional feminine headdress by the 60’s.
So I felt that I could simultaneously strike blows for tradition and for beauty by working on this issue. Other people did not share my enthusiasm. Sidelong glances came from the polite; the less polite informed me I looked like a Muslim, even when my headdress was carefully designed to be distinguished from Muslim head coverings by exposing some hair, the neck, the face; by involving imagery and crosses, etc.
Meanwhile, the Orthodox spirituality was working on me as much as the aesthetic. With pain and a lot of bumbling mistakes, I eventually learned to move past monastic artifacts like ruthless self-deprivation, which were stumbling blocks for me. Instead, I was firmly led to seek stillness. I now realize that this is the very first step on the road to discernment, which I was sorely lacking. What is discernment? It is a faculty to discern between worse and better; and that is not a rational distinction but a moral one and an aesthetic one. Good first of all is that which does not agitate the deep heart; and the deep heart is only agitated by evil.
How strange to find, then, that my own attitude toward my own femininity, largely brought with me from conservative Evangelicalism and informed by biblical scholarship, was the source of just such a disturbance.
These days I don’t wear headdress, even though I still prefer it aesthetically. Perhaps Islam has done us a favor in this area, as it has in the area of Eternal Punishment, by showing us a bitter and unflattering reflection of the flaws in our own history. Islam, by the way, uses precisely the same arguments, with the same phrasing, that you used here to support women’s head coverings – as careful and as moderate as you admittedly were. It’s not an insult, not indicative of inequality, they say; it’s just a matter of protection that happens to refer to a woman’s place in the completely benevolent authority structure she adheres to out of love for God.
Of course, it was indeed out of love for Christ that Christian women for centuries did remain in those authority structures that were already so firmly and so lawfully bound to the societies in which Christianity was first preached. Nevertheless, if the story of the Fall teaches us anything about sexuality, it is that domination by men is part of the curse, not part of the original Creation. Doesn’t Orthodoxy dig deep into our liberation from the ancestral curse?
And it was out of love for Christ that Christian husbands, more and more through history, sought to love and understand instead of dominate their wives. After all, there is no instruction anywhere in the Christian scriptures for men to give orders to their wives, or even to lead them. It is assumed, yes, but it is not a practice that is explicitly supported. This distinction is extremely important to preserve because of the parallel case of slavery. Its existence is assumed in scripture and Christians are told how to behave within it; but the seeds of its disintegration lie within those very instructions. Marriage is not disintegrated, as it turns out, by the introduction of Christly love; but the hierarchical domination of women by their husbands most assuredly has been, just as Christianity has abolished slavery in its realms again and again – even though it took centuries for us to figure out that the gospel was inconsistent with the very institution.
Why do Christians feel the need, then, to try to reconstruct what Christ has, over the course of history, bloodlessly freed them from? Just as Augustine preached that slavery was proper because sin made us all deserving of slavery, and Southern Baptists preached that slavery was proper because the Old Testament regulated it and the New Testament referred to it; so today Evangelical Christians, ever confused about the nature of the change that the Church Age has brought about, want to go back and reconstruct first-century Christianity, with its vibrant infant worship and its barely converted pagan social practices. “Among the Gentiles,” Christ says, “their leaders dominate them. It shall not be so among you.” Husbands, no less than priests, have heeded this commandment and fleshed it out over the years; why should we unravel their genuine, inspired obedience in favor of “rediscovering” some theoretical obedience that has broken hearts and lives so often?
For I grew up in a church that tried to practice 1st-century obedience, and I saw so much breakage. My own father was wiser, preaching submission in theory, but never, ever giving my mother a single order in practice.
I think the reason why Christians want to do this is a deep misunderstanding of the relationship between Church and Bible; between Christians and their scriptures. St. Paul named the Church “The Pillar and Ground of the Truth;” if you ask an Evangelical, “What is the pillar and ground of the truth?” he will probably say, “The Bible.” This replacement of Church authority with “biblical authority” has several thunderous repercussions. First, the Church is active and growing equally through time, while the scriptures came into being in a very short period of time: biblical authority is therefore inflexible, while Church authority is stable but responsive. Second, the Church is composed of living, thinking, feeling, beings; while the scriptures, however comparatively flawless, are composed of human literature and language: therefore the Church is able to act volitionally to clarify and protect itself, while the scriptures only act in the sense of having an effect on people who encounter them, and otherwise lay open to any misinterpretation or ineffectual understanding a person brings to it.
On the other hand, there is one characteristic both have in common: both are inspired by the powerful, intellectual, and life-giving presence of the Holy Spirit, and both are brought into being, recognized, and protected by holy men of God.
Evangelical thinking about the scripture, then, tends to imbue it with the characteristics of a Divine Person. They never say, “St. Paul says in the scripture that…” or “As was written by the prophets…;” rather, they always say, “The Bible says.”
To the Evangelical mind, the Bible genuinely speaks to them like a Person. It gives them orders; it talks to them about their day and their lives; it keeps them company. It does everything that the Church and the Saints ought to do, even if only in their imagination.
So rather than reading St. Paul’s comments about women as part of a foundational Christian literature, written by a holy man whose inspiration came from God instead of the usual literary Muses, and who had an enormous amount of authority due to his connection to the resurrected Christ, they see it as God talking directly to them. In other words, they expect the Bible to know what their literacy level is, what their circumstances are, what their education is, how much intelligence they have and of what kind, how much time for reflection is allotted them, what their culture is like, and what stage of Christian history they are living in; and they expect the Bible to adjust its content and wording accordingly.
The Bible doesn’t know that, and it can’t do those things. It is living in the sense that God’s spirit, having originally inspired it, still pervades it – but he only does this in ways that are proper to an agent of literary inspiration; and the action of the scripture is the action of literature. It cannot act in any other way, because it is nothing else, however excellent a specimen it may be.
With that in mind, I read the comments on feminine veiling seriously but with peace and without feeling any need to reconstruct 1st century fashion. I don’t worry that “God is telling me to veil myself,” or anything like that. I find that leadership qualities do seem to cluster around the male, and I encourage my son and my husband to practice that gift, while also teaching my son that this means taking responsibility for the group and serving others rather than self. I don’t feel any need whatsoever to be a priest (ironically, when I was an Evangelical, I was deeply wounded by my perception that God didn’t want me to use my theological gift) because I can see why men need the priesthood and women don’t. (We already do everything that priests do, in other areas of life to which we are better suited; the priesthood is there as much to develop masculine virtue as it is to serve and protect the church.) I don’t feel the need to behave in a mute, submissive manner. It is not suitable to me or my culture. Whenever I have tried it, it was gross.
And yes, veiling is indeed a symbol of obedience. Of course it is. That is why both male and female monastics, as well as bishops, wear head coverings; they have taken vows and are under obedience to the rule of their communities. It is why Jewish males wear head caps during prayer and put scripture writings on their heads. It is why the Theotokos, who committed the greatest act of obedience in history, is pictured in icons with the most complete veil. (Compare Mary of Egypt; no head covering at all.)
I would be willing to wear a veil or head covering or hat, if it were understood that the law to which I am submitting is my commitment and devotion to the boundaries and structure of my marriage. So long as the misunderstanding persists – and grows – that a woman should be yielding obedience to her husband’s decisions and orders, and that therefore husbands should make unilateral decisions and give orders, I won’t don that symbol. After all, that sort of relationship is a curse, not nature. I feel it. You feel it. Every decent person now feels it, with the same disgust that we feel toward slavery.
For it turns out that when nature teaches us to use a certain symbol, it does so only so long as the symbol’s meaning continues to align itself with nature. Symbols change; nature doesn’t.
And feminine nature has never flourished under authority and within hierarchies. Feminine nature flourishes when it freely exchanges support, cooperation, and nurture for dignity, respect, and honor. In in the wake of yellow stars and suicide bombers, compelling or pressuring someone to wear on their bodies a symbol of subjection to another person can only be a stumbling-block, wounding and humiliating. The fact that it is women themselves who often enforce these rules is not, in my opinion, testimony to the harmlessness of them. I have seen women enforce horrific things. Submissiveness is women’s weakness, not women’s glory. Knowing who to obey requires discernment and firmness of character, not submissiveness.
Hi Alana,
Thank you for taking the time to stop by and comment.
I agreed with some things that you wrote and disagreed with others. Due to my intense seminary schedule, I don’t have sufficient time for replying to your comment as thoroughly as I would like. While it is nice to emphasize the things upon which we agree, time alas, does not permit such niceties.
One of your main arguments, as I understand it, revolves around the idea that Christianity, properly understood, abolishes the male-dominated hierarchy that is a result of the fall. However, hierarchy is a natural part of creation – visible and invisible. The angelic orders themselves exist in a hierarchy as St. Dionysius writes. Of course, the Theotokos, a woman, exists at the very top of the hierarchy of all creation – visible and invisible – as St. Gregory Palamas and others have written.
I don’t know what things will look like in the age to come. I don’t doubt there will be a hierarchy, though it will probably have nothing to do with gender at that time. Until then, we live in this physical world with its natural order. As a result of the fall, we still wear clothes, man still toils to provide for his family, and women still experience pain in child-birth. None of those things have been erased. Besides that, I’m not convinced hierarchy is a result of the fall since it exists within the angelic order as well – and the angelic order is mostly unfallen.
You made a lengthy case about how essentially we are not tied to the Bible as a rigid set of rules, but we experience it as part of our living tradition in Orthodoxy. That is true, and the saints of the Church help illumine our understanding of the Scriptures. In regards to the topic at hand, though, I’m not sure how that helps your case. Both the Scriptures, the saints, and the tradition of the Church support the wearing of head covers. You have little more than post-1960’s sentiments to help your case.
Regarding the similarities to my wording and Islam, I think you know the history. Islam borrowed some things from Christianity. We won’t abandon anything simply because Islam has taken some of our practices and twisted them into a perverted, oppressive system. Satan is not particularly creative, he perverts the good. Food is good, but gluttony is evil. Hierarchy is of God, but abuse and domination are not. If Islam has hijacked the justification for head coverings from Christianity, then they have done so poorly for they couple it with abuse of women and treating them like property. It is despicable and does not even closely resemble what our Church teaches about women.
Lastly, you wrote, “I would be willing to wear a veil or head covering or hat, if it were understood that the law to which I am submitting is my commitment and devotion to the boundaries and structure of my marriage. So long as the misunderstanding persists – and grows – that a woman should be yielding obedience to her husband’s decisions and orders, and that therefore husbands should make unilateral decisions and give orders, I won’t don that symbol.”
I would encourage you to do what you feel is the right thing and not to worry about what people will think. It seems that you yourself – by not wearing a head covering for fear of what people will think – are perpetuating the idea that a head covering symbolizes that “husbands should make unilateral decisions and give orders.” If you have a healthy marriage, then feel free to celebrate the freedom of wearing a head covering knowing it’s a choice you willingly made.
It’s nice at times to contemplate a world where we don’t have to care what other people think. In my own schooling years, I did. But of course such a world would be devoid of social symbols… and therefore of veils, except as sun-sheilds. And language, and scriptures.
My beliefs about what Christianity does are not accurately represented by the phrase “abolishes the male- dominated hierarchy that is part of the fall.” It might be better represented by the phrase “is gradually transforming the natural hierarchy into a love-governed relationship resembling the Trinity, while leaving behind the aspect of domination accrued in the Fall.”
Please note that, as St. Paul says, the male in creation and before the Fall occupied the position of “firstborn” with the duty and privilege of care that entails. Only after the Fall, however, is it prophesied to the woman that her husband “will rule over” her.
It is notable, again, that not once in the Gospel is the Lord found behaving in a domineering way toward women. I think it safe to say that St. Paul’s concerns are largely temporal and local, and probably related to St. Peter’s instructions to give the pagans no cause to blaspheme Christ, such as by visibly upsetting societal stability, which in Roman society greatly valued male rule of households, even defining the roles by law. It was a great boast of early Christians that they contributed nothing to the instability of the empire, and were no revolutionaries.
It is always interesting to contemplate what advice the apostles might give in a post-Christian society. Even when things look the same, they are not the same at the semantic level.
In the process of your seminary training, I encourage you to develop a habit of close reading and fine distinction-making, when handling divine and spiritual literature. It is what any good literature deserves from its interpreters, not to mention that inspired by God.
As for Islam, yes of course it is worse in every way. I do encourage you to develop discernment for likenesses in spirit, lest you become satisfied with the lesser of evils.
You wrote, “[Christianity] is gradually transforming the natural hierarchy into a love-governed relationship resembling the Trinity, while leaving behind the aspect of domination accrued in the Fall.” With that I can certainly agree. Hierarchy is natural, and it can indeed be a “love-governed relationship” that models the Trinity, similar to the way that the Father is the fountainhead of the Trinity from whom the Son is begotten and from whom the Spirit proceeds. The Fathers of the Church reveal such things to us (particularly those of the third and fourth centuries) and it takes “close reading and fine distinction-making,” as you said, when approaching their works.
I’m not sure what words the Apostles would use if they spoke to the Church today. Because I do not trust myself to figure that out, I am thankful that the saints and godly bishops that teach and guide the Church today are inspired by the same Holy Spirit that filled the Apostles.
That was well handled. I can see why they let you into seminary.
I agree with what you say, mostly. I suppose I’ve contracted the disease of age, if it is a disease; I feel I know what I know, and what I don’t.
With the hard experience of having lived through regret, and recovered from folly, and struggled out of ditches into which I’ve stumbled; struggled hard, all alone with God only to help me; I have developed a certain sense of balance or equilibrium. I know what will make me stumble, and what will not. If I tell you that putting a head-scarf on will make me stumble, you will have to take my word for it. I am grateful that you did not pressure me further to do so. Likewise, if I find that meditating on scripture and allowing myself to interact with it as holy literature and as spiritual food does not make me stumble, I will not be put off from such activity on the theoretical basis that I ought to be incapable of it. I am not a clericalist.
And while I believe as you do doctrinally – that interpretation of scripture is the inspired act of holy persons, just as the original writing of scripture is – and while I grasp that the most destructive inward act I can commit is to imagine myself such a person in any singular sense – I have learned not to be too sanguine about expecting to find such inspired understanding in any particular location outside myself as well, hierarchical or otherwise.
You will find such bitter wisdom throughout the laity. This is not an age of widespread holiness or spiritual power. It is not an age of easy and active flowing of grace between the orders of the church. Men whose care is for the stability of the church as a whole are largely uncomfortable with laypersons who have spiritual gifts; they feel like destabilizing agents. And most of us who begin as serious practitioners of the faith learn that God has no elders or spiritual mentors to spare for us just now.
I mentioned her before, but it’s been years since I realized I needed to take Mary of Egypt as my model and protector. To an extreme extent, she had no one but God and the heavenly witnesses for most of her Christian life on Earth.
That doesn’t mean I think I’m like her, or have anything like her grace. It does mean that I’ve realized God would not leave me without someone to understand and guide me, and since such aid has not been forthcoming from the expected places, I am allowed to find it inwardly.
I am also the church.
“Little children… ye have an unction from the Holy One, and ye know, all of you.” 1st John 2:18-20.
I would not pressure anyone to wear a headcovering in church – though if asked I will explain the teachings of the Church and why I think it is generally better to wear one than not to. However, every woman should do as her conscience guides her. May God be with you in your journey and may the prayers of St. Mary strengthen you.