A number of Evangelical inquirers have asked exactly what we Orthodox mean in our prayer describing the Theotokos as “the salvation of the Christian people”. They also wonder what we can mean when we pray that we “may obtain paradise through you, O Virgin Theotokos”. These queries are perhaps reinforced every Matins and Vespers which conclude with the priest saying, “Most holy Theotokos, save us!”

Hidden well away in the Greek of the genealogy with which St. Matthew opens his Gospel is a little theological secret—a secret which utterly vanishes in most English translations. Matthew begins his genealogy of Jesus by saying that “Abraham begot Isaac, and Isaac begot Jacob, and Jacob begot Judah and his brothers” and so on and on for about another forty names. The word here rendered “begot” is the Greek ἐγέννησεν/ egennesen, the active mood of the verb γεννάω/ gennao. After so many instances of one man actively begetting someone else, the reader is primed for the concluding climax “and Joseph begot Jesus”. But that is not how the genealogy concludes.

had thought of entitling this piece “About UFOs”, but then quickly reconsidered, not wanting to blow all my credibility before anyone had begun reading it. This piece is an unabashed and unapologetic rip-off of a chapter in Rod Dreher’s new book Living in Wonder in which chapter he deals with UFO phenomena and its current significance. This chapter (along with a previous one dealing with the dangers of the occult and, come to that, the entire book) should be required reading by all seminarians and pastors today. If you have read the book and the chapter on UFOs, consider this something of a précis.

Much to my surprise, some time ago the Nicene Creed was trending online among the Southern Baptists, America’s largest Baptist organization. They were, apparently, debating whether or not that Creed should be added to their official statement of faith. This was a bit controversial since the Southern Baptists are well-known for their position that they have “no Creed but the Bible”. Though it is hard for me to work up any enthusiasm or interest in what our Southern Baptist friends do with their official statement of faith, the news does provoke the question, “What’s so important about the Nicene Creed?” Or, in blunter terms, why should anyone today care about what a bunch of guys decided about 1700 years ago? Permit me to attempt an answer.

Once when I was a new convert to Anglicanism (a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away) I asked my dear Anglican pastor why our Anglican Church no longer canonized any saints. I knew that the Roman Catholic Church continued to canonize saints and (had I only known it back then) the Orthodox Church continued to canonize saints, but the Anglican Church did not. What was the deal?

I have just finished reading a very 2002 interesting book The Case for Christ, written in Evangelical style by Lee Strobel. One of the chapters was about how Jesus fulfilled the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah, for which Mr. Strobel interviewed Mr. Louis S. Lapides, a Jewish convert to the Christian faith who now has a B.A. in theology from Dallas Baptist University and an M. Div. and a Master of Theology from Talbot Theological Seminary and who is now senior pastor at Beth Ariel Fellowship in California.

The whimsical title of this blog post is based on the 1969 book by David Reuben entitled Everything You Always Wanted to Know about Sex* (*But Were Afraid to Ask). I chose the title because although the Church has its own teaching about sexuality, many young Orthodox Christians are afraid to inquire diligently about it for fear the Church will give unwelcome advice. Which of course it will.

Recently I was re-reading a good but somewhat dated book about the episcopate, entitled The Apostolic Ministry, a collection of essays edited by Bishop Kenneth Kirk and published 1946. In one piece, written by Beatrice Hamilton Thompson on the “Post-Reformation Episcopate in England”, the author compared the state of the episcopate at the time Archbishop of Canterbury Matthew Parker (d. 1575) to that of the episcopate at the time of St. Cyprian of Carthage (d. 258).

Recently I have come across an anti-Orthodox polemic which rejects our veneration of icons on the grounds that venerating an image painted on a board of Christ, His Mother, or His saints is contrary to the practice of the apostles and of the earliest Church. The objection is stated with some sophistication, and is not the usual fundamentalist reference to the Mosaic Law’s proscription of carved statues used in worship (e.g. Exodus 20:4f). This more sophisticated objection acknowledges that there were indeed images of Christ, His Mother, and His saints used in the early Church such as can be found in the funerary art of the catacombs and on the walls of churches (such as that of Dura Europos). But, it points out, there is no evidence that these images functioned as anything more than mere decoration. That is, the people did not come up to the wall to kiss the wall art or venerate the images.

Recently a minor fracas in the narthex of our church was caused by (I kid you not) my long hair (see inset for a rear view of said hair). Since my hair steadfastly refuses to grow on the top of my head, you would think I could be cut a little slack for the bit that grows at the back, but apparently not.