29 May 2023

Learning a language in later life

At school, I was told I was hopeless at languages and was directed into a science-oriented education. Somehow I did manage to get the certificates in Latin and French that I needed to get into university. Later, while studying theology, I put a lot of effort into learning New Testament Greek and surprised myself by winning a prize, but I was still convinced that I was hopeless at languages.

Half a century on from my experience of language-learning at school, I decided to start learning Italian. I hoped that learning a language would keep my mind active as I approached retirement. Italian commended itself because I sing and it is the singer’s language par excellence. Unfortunately, that Italian class came to a grinding halt at the start of the COVID pandemic.

Looking around for a language I could study online during the pandemic, I decided to revisit French, starting with an online intensive course run by Dundee University. Having thus refreshed my school French, I followed it up by doing a year with the Open University. As a result, I am now fairly confident about my ability to read French. But I still struggle to understand French speakers and actually speaking the language seems a step too far. However, I plod onwards, hoping to build my confidence to the point where I feel able to speak the language.

Whenever I feel inclined to give up, I take inspiration from the example of Mary Hobson. She began learning Russian at the age of 56 because she wanted to be able to read War and Peace in the original. She studied independently for six years before feeling confident enough to enrol for a degree course at London University. At the age of 74, she was awarded a PhD for her work on Alexander Griboedov. Since then, she has won several prizes for her translations of Russian classics, and she is recognized as an authority on Pushkin. Here is a link to an interview with her in which she offers some tips on learning Russian, which can be generalized as follows:

  • Make the language part of your life (create routines e.g. practising grammar while waiting for the bus).
  • Talk to yourself in the language. Look up words you don’t know.
  • Keep practising in your head.
  • Use a really good dictionary: look up similar words; create families of words.
  • Read classic authors. (I would be inclined to say, read whatever seems most relevant to your intended use of the language. At least at first, she had no interest in communicating in Russian. And I would add, listen to the spoken word.)
  • Accept your ignorance (be prepared to make a fool of yourself – I’m afraid I find this really hard; the perfectionist in me cringes at the thought).
  • Recite poetry to learn where stress goes. (This was specific to an issue with spoken Russian. It is possibly less relevant with a language like French.)
  • Find yourself a language buddy (a native speaker who can tutor you in the language).

25 May 2023

Priests of Creation by John Zizioulas


A review of Priests of Creation: John Zizioulas on Discerning an Ecological Ethos edited by John Chryssavgis and Nikolaos Asproulis (London: T&T Clark, 2021)

Originally published in Forerunner, no. 78, Winter 2021–22, pp. 37–40.

In this volume, John Chryssavgis and Nikolaos Asproulis have brought together eighteen articles and papers written by John Zizioulas (Metropolitan John of Pergamon) over the past thirty years or so, including seven which have not previously appeared in print. Zizioulas is arguably one of the most important contemporary Orthodox theologians and the leading Orthodox voice on the development of an Orthodox response to the environmental crisis. This is a very welcome addition to the literature since his writings on the subject have previously been scattered across a variety of publications, some of which are quite obscure.

The editors have adopted a loosely thematic approach, grouping the chapters into six parts: ‘Historical Roots’, ‘Theological Approaches’, ‘Liturgical Perspectives’, ‘Ecological Ethics or Ecological Ethos?’, ‘Scientific and Spiritual Dimensions’, and ‘Ecumenical and Cultural Implications’. This approach certainly helps to orient readers, particularly those who might be new to the subject. However, it also serves to obscure the development of his thought.

It quickly becomes clear that there are several recurring themes in these essays, which are reflected in the part titles chosen by the editors. But the themes actually cut across the parts of the book. So, for example, the fullest account of Zizioulas’s theological approach appears as the first chapter of the section on liturgical perspectives.

The starting point of Zizioulas’s approach to the environment is his recognition that Christian theology and spirituality are implicated in the genesis of the contemporary environmental crisis. He accepts Lynn White’s thesis about the historical roots of the environmental crisis and combines it with Max Weber’s association of the Protestant work ethic with the spirit of capitalism to present the contemporary crisis as driven to a large extent by attitudes encouraged by Western Christianity, particularly Calvinism, but not excluding medieval Catholicism. In his view, they created the ethos that encouraged the West’s exploitative approach to the natural world. Thus the environmental crisis may be understood as a spiritual issue requiring a spiritual solution rather than merely a technological fix.

While Zizioulas is certainly right to treat the environmental crisis as a spiritual issue, he undermines his case by his uncritical acceptance of White and Weber’s arguments. Both have been extensively criticized for their historical inadequacies. Far from being a largely Western Christian problem, it is arguable that human societies have had a negative impact on the natural environment since at least the Mesolithic era. A fuller and fairer account of Western theological traditions regarding the natural world would recognize that they are not entirely negative, that there is a countervailing strand in which the natural world has an essential role in God’s purposes. And perhaps his fulsome praise of Pope Francis’s encyclical on ecology and justice (chapter 17) can be read as an implicit correction of his earlier position.

Having established that the environmental crisis is a spiritual issue, Zizioulas seeks to address it using resources from the biblical view of the natural world and the patristic doctrine of creation. The book begins with an essay on St Paul’s understanding of the natural world and immediately follows it with one on the place of the natural world in the book of Revelation. Turning to patristic resources, Zizioulas emphasizes the importance of the doctrine of creation from nothing. This doctrine stresses the fragility of the material creation and its radical dependence upon God. He does admit, in passing, that this led some of the fathers (notably those most influenced by Origen and Evagrius of Pontus) to downplay the significance of material existence and concentrate too much on the spiritual dimension of human nature. However, he insists that mainstream patristic teaching did not go down this road.

His positive treatment of the biblical and patristic resources is frustrating because it is so brief. The occasional nature of most of the chapters means that he never really has the opportunity to develop the material in depth. For example, the obvious biblical resources of Genesis 1 and Psalm 103 are not explored, nor does he touch on the recurring Old Testament theme of environmental catastrophe as divine judgement. Likewise, although he is clearly outlining patristic teaching, he rarely cites patristic sources, so readers will have to look elsewhere if they wish to explore the tradition for themselves.

The distinctive and most important aspect of Zizioulas’s theological approach to the environmental crisis is trailed by the title of the book. Many secular environmentalists seem to regard the human race as a virus or a cancer attacking the integrity of the natural world. Those who do not, together with the majority of Christian environmentalists, see the human race as just one more species among many. In contrast to such views, Zizioulas unashamedly insists that human beings have a vital role to play in creation as its priests. At several points, he clearly expounds how the royal priesthood of all believers gives us a mediating role between God and the nonhuman creation. And for Zizioulas, as for St Paul, the fall of the human race was also an environmental fall. The fundamental theological reason for the environmental crisis is that in rejecting that role the human race has subjected the rest of creation to futility (Rom. 8:22). Without our mediating role, the creation is unable to achieve its divinely intended purpose.

Again, for Zizioulas as for St Paul, the salvation wrought by Christ has implications for the whole of creation. What Adam failed to do, Christ has achieved. Thus ‘in the person of Christ, the world possesses its priest of creation, the very model of man’s proper relation to the natural world’ (p. 130). And, as the body of Christ, we participate in this priesthood.

The last theme I want to pick up is a corollary of this priesthood of creation. As we live this priesthood, we establish an ecological ethos, a culture of caring for the environment. For Zizioulas, this ethos has at least three aspects. Most important, and the one he develops most fully, is the eucharistic aspect. In the Eucharist, we offer to God the material creation represented by bread, wine, and ourselves and receive it back transformed. A eucharistic vision of the world enables us to see it as something holy to be valued for its own sake. In addition, he suggests that this ecological ethos has an iconographic aspect: the material world becomes transparent, the medium through which we can encounter the transcendent. And, last but not least, there is an ascetic aspect: recognizing the holiness of God’s good creation, we will fast from exploiting it.

For Zizioulas, this ecological ethos is the Church’s essential contribution to tackling the environmental crisis. He insists on the inadequacy of all environmental ethics that are not underpinned by such an ethos. Prescribed codes of behaviour are not enough. Without grounding in an appropriate ethos, they lead all too easily to guilt, failure, and despair. As he points out, ‘there is no ethical critique that can compel us to behave in an ecological way’ (p. 158).

Zizioulas presents us with an attractive vision of the Church’s role in addressing the environmental crisis. However, sermons, patriarchal statements, and conferences seem to have done little to foster the ecological ethos that he perceives in Orthodoxy. The reality on the ground is that nations which identify as Orthodox are not noted for their care for the environment. Several Orthodox nations are major coal producers, and the largest Orthodox nation is also the fourth-largest global emitter of greenhouse gases.

Yes, we need the kind of ethos Zizioulas describes, but we also urgently need guidance as to how that ethos works out in practice, in ethics and askesis. Unfortunately, these essays only hint at what that practical guidance might look like. Positively, he speaks of ecological askesis as fasting from environmental exploitation but gives no examples of what that might mean. Negatively, he affirms at several points the reality of ecological sin, but he does not offer guidance to enable us to recognize when we have fallen into such sin so that we might confess it and repent of it.

In conclusion, these essays offer us an important foundation for an Orthodox perspective on the environmental challenges that face us. However, the work of expounding how that might help us live as priests of creation in a world facing imminent catastrophic climate change is left for others.

24 May 2023

The human cost of anthropogenic climate change

 Estimates of the impact of climate change are usually couched in terms of economic cost. But a recent paper in Nature Sustainability – Lenton, T.M., Xu, C., Abrams, J.F. et al. Quantifying the human cost of global warming. Nat Sustain (2023). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41893-023-01132-6 – sheds new light on the real cost of climate change by calculating how many people in the coming decades may be exposed to temperature extremes outside the range of temperatures within which humans can flourish. Here is the abstract:

The costs of climate change are often estimated in monetary terms, but this raises ethical issues. Here we express them in terms of numbers of people left outside the ‘human climate niche’—defined as the historically highly conserved distribution of relative human population density with respect to mean annual temperature. We show that climate change has already put ~9% of people (>600 million) outside this niche. By end-of-century (2080–2100), current policies leading to around 2.7 °C global warming could leave one-third (22–39%) of people outside the niche. Reducing global warming from 2.7 to 1.5 °C results in a ~5-fold decrease in the population exposed to unprecedented heat (mean annual temperature ≥29 °C). The lifetime emissions of ~3.5 global average citizens today (or ~1.2 average US citizens) expose one future person to unprecedented heat by end-of-century. That person comes from a place where emissions today are around half of the global average. These results highlight the need for more decisive policy action to limit the human costs and inequities of climate change.

22 May 2023

John Chrysostom on star-gazing

One of the readings last week was from Acts 12. Peter has just been released from prison in the middle of the night by an angel. Verse 12 reads ‘… he came to the house of Mary, the mother of John whose surname was Mark, where many were gathered together praying.’ In his Homilies on Luke, John Chrysostom comments on this verse:

Let us imitate these, … the Church of God rising up in the midst of the night. Rise thou up also, and behold the quire of the stars, the deep silence, the profound repose: contemplate with awe the order (οἰκονομίαν) of thy Master’s household. Then is thy soul purer: it is lighter, and subtler, and soaring disengaged: the darkness itself, the profound silence, are sufficient to lead thee to compunction. (Homily XXVI in NPNF 1-11)

It is striking how different Chrysostom’s assumptions are from our own. Modern Christians (particularly those from a Protestant evangelical background) read of people praying in the middle of night and envisage a group of people huddled together, perhaps on their knees, praying with their heads bowed and their eyes firmly shut. But Chrysostom assumes that they have their eyes wide open and their gaze directed towards the heavens. He takes it as perfectly normal for Christians to contemplate the heavens as an aid to worship in much the same way as we use icons.

18 May 2023

What’s in a name?

I decided on the title of this blog after re-reading Tito Colliander’s Way of the Ascetics. His starting point is striking. Because he believes that faith must be active, he begins:

If you wish to save your soul and win eternal life, arise from your lethargy, make the sign of the Cross and say: ‘In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.’

And it is never too late to start. Whatever your situation, however dark your life seems to be, it is not too late to arise and return to God. Like the prodigal. But you must do it . . . now. Don’t add it to a ‘to do’ list. Stop whatever else you are doing. Arise, and go now to God.

And tomorrow . . . do the same.

And every day . . . arise and go now.

Elsewhere in the book, he writes of a visitor to a monastery who asks an old monk what he and his fellow monks do all day. Instead of the stock answer about work, study, and prayer, the old man replies, ‘We fall and we get up. We fall and we get up.’ In other words, we are always beginning again. To put it in more theological terms, he is talking about repentance, which is at the heart of Orthodox spirituality.

Repentance is more radical than saying sorry (even if you mean it). It involves a fundamental change of direction. Then we were headed away from God (towards non-being); now we are headed towards God (and Being). And that’s why repentance cannot be a once and for all event (as some Protestants seem to think). We must recommit ourselves to that new direction every morning (also every afternoon and evening and every moment in between). It is about constantly checking that we are on the right course.

17 May 2023

Hello world!

Welcome to my new blog. This is a successor to TheosBlog, which I maintained for over a decade until it disappeared in 2019 (I never did find out why that happened). All that now remains on the internet are some traces that can be found via the Internet Archive’s Wayback machine. Since then, I have made a couple of half-hearted attempts to start afresh. So here I am again, hoping that this time I’ll find the energy and enthusiasm to keep it going.

What can you expect to find here?

As the subtitle suggests, there will be a little bit of everything (at least, everything that interests me). But, because I am a member of the Orthodox Church, one recurring theme is likely to be Orthodox spirituality. Specifically, I find myself asking how we should express our faith in a ferociously complex (post)modern society.

Another recurring theme is likely to be how we should relate to the natural world. I have been actively interested in environmentalism since the 1980s and the topic featured heavily in my PhD thesis.

There may be occasional entries on physics and astronomy (my first degree was in astronomy, and I still try to keep up with developments). And from time to time, I will probably also have things to say about my personal interests (science fiction and fantasy, music, photography, orchids, fountain pens and calligraphy, genealogy). What won’t appear is very much about politics (certainly not party politics).

And, of course, I have the archives of my previous blogs to play with. Some of the entries were popular enough to warrant reblogging. In particular, I picked up an avid following of folk who were interested in what I had to say about Blackwell Idealist (a database manager from the 1990s, which I still use).

One final thought for the moment. I am quite concerned (no, I’m horrified) by the bitterness, argumentativeness, and destructiveness of too much of what passes for Christian (and Orthodox Christian) blogging. So I promise that I will not engage in culture wars here. I will try to follow St Paul’s advice and fill this blog with ‘whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report’ (Philippians 4.8, Orthodox Study Bible).

<i>The Groaning of Creation</i>

A review of Christopher Southgate, The Groaning of Creation: God, Evolution, and the Problem of Evil  (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Pre...