Contemporary apostates and the generation of indifference

Hieromonk Martirie Păduraru

 

 

You often encounter in life people who, carried by the waves this way and that, concerned only with their daily bread and the comfort of their family, melt their days away in the cloying routine of the joy of merely existing. They do not trouble their hearts with the sufferings of others, they do not ask awakening questions, they do not torment their souls with hidden inner struggles: they float inertly in the torpor of a placid life without problems.

Well then, these contemporary apostates are ever more numerous among the Christians of our days; Christians of circumstance, people who have become Christians by descent rather than by the conscious assumption of the sanctifying labors of personal and social life, so characteristic of the true Christian.

We ask, somewhat rhetorically, yet seized by a deep pain of heart: do the generations of our age no longer bear within themselves the seed of truth, do they no longer cherish the dowry of the calling to the Christian life, a dowry dearly defended and sealed with blood by our forefathers? Has the spark of holy aspirations been extinguished from the nature of our people, the martyric outburst against lawlessness that shatters our strength, mounted upon the tribunal of justice?

Has the Romanian wholly forgotten the vocation of holiness, the unwavering powers in the struggle with sin? Has he entirely lost the desire for another order, other than that imposed upon mankind by the great ones of the world, with the political support of the sellers of nation and country?

Behold questions that ought to shake the shameful complacency of every Romanian and of every Christian—questions which, if we, each one individually, do not put to ourselves, we shall perish as a nation and as Christians. These are questions by which we shall be judged before God, both by our forefathers and by our descendants; they are questions which, one day, at the judgment of the nations, will accuse us of having left them unanswered because of the tearing ignorance that gnaws at our existence.

The faces of apostasy can be sweet or bitter

But perhaps some, perplexed, ask: “In fact, what are the dangers that lie in wait for us, how do they attack us, where do they aim, where do they end, etc.?” The dangers are many. Their faces are even more numerous. Some are sweet, others bitter. Some repel, others attract, depending on the forms they take and on each person’s disposition to be enticed. Yet, the ones who know them best—because they struggle against them—are those who live the truly Christian life: those who do not fear the pains of Christian living; those who long for the joys of suffering, who do not flirt with the harsh commandments of the Gospel, but fulfill them with holy zeal, without crafty modernist and ecumenist concessions.

Following the thread of the problem, I believe that the most terrifying danger, both for all Christians and for each one individually, is apostasy.

There exists today more than ever a mentality and a society with an astonishing predisposition toward apostasy. But what kind of apostasy? Is it identical to the apostasy of the first Christian centuries, as it appears in the manuals of church history and in the Lives of the Saints? Only partially. It resembles the historical one in that it separates from Christ, from the Church, from salvation. But the apostasy of our times, besides the classic forms of manifestation, also presents new, “attractive,” “benevolent,” “humanistic and protective” faces.

The old apostasy was tyrannical, crude, but above all open, in such a way that it demanded your opposition, your firmness, your capacity for resistance, giving you the possibility to identify it directly and implicitly, to counteract it. The pressures being of an external nature, the tortures aiming at the physical destruction of the Christian, the soul preserved a certain independence and power of rebellion, which was, and is, fundamentally important for a Christian in the struggle with sin and with the apostasies of the age.

Apostasy works in us like woodworm in timber

But today? Apostasy, in some of its most refined forms, is omnipresent and insinuates itself stealthily into each one of us and into every corner of society. Even through those of our own household, confirming the word of the Gospel, apostasy works patiently in us like woodworm in timber. But this does not mean that we cannot resist it. Considering that apostasy slips into our hearts through body and soul, it is these that we must guard first. This guarding Christians call self-restraint. We exercise self-restraint against every sin. We make use of self-restraint against all the sins with which contemporary apostate society tempts us.

We must know, however, that those most protected from apostasy are the Christians who, daily, nourish their souls not with newspapers or television, not with the vain preoccupations of this world, not with gluttony, fornication, vainglory, or the love of money, but who nourish themselves with the love of God, with the unceasing reading of the Holy Gospel and of the Lives of the Saints, with meditation on the words of the Holy Fathers, which give vigor and manliness to the soul so as to resist sin and apostasy.

A “humanistic,” social, and conciliatory theology

Harassment comes today from all directions, with catlike steps, and sin strikes with lightning speed. It spares no one. Neither the president, nor the mayor, nor the deputy, nor the scholar, nor the common man—absolutely all of us are tested by sins. Some may believe that renunciation of Christ is more forgiving toward the prelates of the Church.

Well then, it is not quite so. No one is infallible in the face of modern aberrations. Renunciation or apostasy, today as always, can even take on the face of Christ—a peaceful and gentle face, conciliatory and loving. We encounter this face both in pan-Orthodox conferences, in “peace” alliances, in “banks” of religions, in foundations of an ecological or humanistic character, in gatherings, rallies, and debates with aims, of course, among the most “noble.”

Could this be the face of Christ? Certainly not. Was it for this that Christ was incarnate, crucified, and risen—for concessions, compromises, and petty calculations, for progress, comfort, for diplomacy, or for a “better world” and “peace among peoples”? But every right-believing Christian knows that the answer is no. If I am saved through prosperity, why do I still fast, why do I still practice self-restraint, why should I still struggle? If I am saved through “progress” and “social order,” it means that our forefathers, who did not know “progress” nor modern “social order,” were not saved.

This “humanistic,” social, and conciliatory theology places the emphasis on this age, toward the passing enjoyment of the body, but it saddens the soul, for it robs the Orthodox Christian of the longing for and expectation of eternal life. It was perceived and harshly criticized by the great ascetic saints of the Orthodox Church (in our time by Saints Theophan the Recluse, Ignatius Brianchaninov, John Jacob of Hozeva, John Maximovitch, Seraphim Rose, etc.).

Man – a “good” of a commercial oligarchy

This “universalist humanism,” Catholic-Protestant in origin, with distant echoes from the world of ancient Greece (Protagoras: “man is the measure of all things”), which places man above all things, is encouraged and sustained unconsciously by all of us, lovers of the senses and enslaved to the “consumer society.” But what this “consumer society” is, it is very good for us to know, so that we may be watchful. It is the society that turns man into a “good” of a commercial oligarchy. It is the society that has made marketing its sole principle—religious, moral, social.

We must acknowledge that the man of our days does not distinguish between the social and the moral. If a Christian commits an immoral act, but one not condemned constitutionally and socially, he does not perceive that he has sinned before God, that he has transgressed the commandment of Christ, that he is in renunciation toward the Church and toward the laws of salvation; he does not perceive his apostasy. For this man, God is no longer Christ, but the State, the Government, the Constitution, or the people, the world and its laws. This sort of man commits sin, attentive only to his public duty, and then can return home calmly, take his lunch, enjoy his family peacefully without inner reproaches and spiritual turmoil. It is the type of one who, having committed sin, is cheerful, satisfied, well-disposed that he has conscientiously done his “duty.” It is the type of one who, in the face of reproaches, responds serenely and candidly: “I was at work,” “I acted according to the law,” “I had orders,” “I did my duty,” “the boss answers,” etc.

The generation of indifference

This kind of people were the ideal tools of political tyranny, from communism to any satanic regime; this sort still swarms among us today—some even call themselves “believers”—but they will be our executioners tomorrow. Guilty are all of us who take such morals as examples, favoring their spread, yielding before power, blackmail, a petty interest, the securing of a job, an undeserved profit, etc.

All these together—every insecurity, every hesitation, every fear out of fear itself and for the sake of the world—are daughters of apostasy; they are renunciations of truth, renunciations of justice, renunciations of courage, renunciations of martyrdom, renunciations of love for the human soul, renunciations of nation, renunciations of faith, renunciations of God, renunciations of salvation, of paradise, of eternity.

Yes, indeed, in indifference toward God lies the entire disaster of our world, all our failures, all our despair, all our fear of life and of death. If sloth and unbelief have brought such a cloud of indifference and numbness into our souls, what then will become of future generations? Will they not come to hate their own life, will they not hate their parents, will there not be a demonic world upon the earth? Woe to those of tomorrow, and woe to us, those of today, for we are the enemies of our children, we are the enemies of our forefathers, enemies of the salvation of the human race, enemies of Christ the Crucified.

 

Source: “Despre chipul omului nou.” Translated from the original Romanian.