The invitations to Lambeth 2008--specifically who got one and who got left out--have generated much ecclesiastical dish, a good bit of heat, but little light.

Integrity and many of its supporters are calling for the American bishops to boycott the meeting because Gene Robinson of New Hampshire wasn't invited. Archbishop Akinola of Nigeria threatens to boycott Lambeth because Martyn Minns, his agent in the US, was snubbed by the Archbishop of Canterbury. The Ugandans have already said that they're sitting this one out. Other elements of the Global South may well follow suit. I didn't get an invitation either, but of course I'm not a bishop. If I had one, would I go?

At first blush, Lambeth 08 doesn't sound all that interesting. Lots of Bible study, plus workshops on episcopal leadership, whatever one might imagine that to be. Perhaps on the last day, right after the group photo, they'll form a gigantic circle on the University of Kent athletic field, join hands, and sing "Kumbaya". If I were spending 3 weeks in England, I'd experience much more spiritual growth by attending Evensong at St. Pauls,' High Mass at All Saints Margaret Street, hanging out at the British Museum, or eating lots of Indian food (not necessarily in that order). Not getting invited to this thing is sort of like being in high school and not getting invited to a party thrown by a bunch of geeks who drink Red Bull and go to Star Trek conventions.

However (and there's usually a however in these things), when one takes a wider view, +Gene is still a serving bishop, the other bishops in the Episcopal Church have their invites, and big chunks of the extremist evangelical faction are poised to stay away. From my viewpoint, that's a net gain, especially considering how things looked right after the Primates' communique in February. A progressive boycott would leave the field to whatever reactionaries might show up, plus the rather bland types who put maintaining the institution above either gay rights or doctrinal orthodoxy.

So,if I were a bishop, I'd go to Lambeth, speak my piece, try not to look at my watch too often, and schedule an extra week for Indian food.

Short Trip to the Edge: where earth meets heaven--a pilgrimage. By Scott Cairns. HarperSanFrancisco, 2007.

The author teaches creative writing at the University of Missouri-Columbia. He's a convert to the Greek Orthodox church by way of the Presbyterians and Episcopalians--a lot of that is going on these days. The book relates three pilgrimages he made to Mt. Athos during the course of a sabattical year.

Cairns has been practising the Jesus Prayer for ten years or so but has gotten to the point where he feels like he is making no progress at all. He thinks that if he can find a spiritual father--a spiritual director, only more so--at one of the Athonite monasteries, he can give his spiritual life a good jump-start. This is the basic plot of the book, which is loaded with colorful descriptions of monastic life, even more colorful characters, and beautiful renderings of the rugged Mt. Athos landscape.

Cairns visits several monasteries and has talks with a number of monks, one of which I quote from in my post on the Jesus Prayer. In the end, he doesn't find one single spiritual father, but rather realizes that he has many. His spiritual practice is indeed deepened, though not in the spectacular way he may have been seeking at the outset.

His 14 year-old son accompanies him on the last pilgrimage and there are several genuinely touching scenes of father and son at all-night vigils, hiking along the trails between monasteries, and the like. Quality time, indeed.

On the more negative side, there are a few incidents of the occasionally rough treatment of guests to which visitors to Mt.Athos are sometimes subjected. Once he has to spend the night in an old storeroom where non-Orthodox guests are consigned. When the guestmaster finds out he's only a convert to Orthodoxy, apparently that means he's not Orthodox enough. On another occasion, a guest (who doesn't quite have it all together) is receiving communion during a Liturgy when he suddenly flails his arms about and spills some of the consecrated wine on his shirt and on the floor as well. The monks take him aside and make him take off his shirt, nwhich is then burned. Another monk then pours a flammable liquid over the wine spilled on the floor and sets it on fire. We read in the Rule of Benedict that all guests are to be recieved as Christ. For some eastern monks, apparently, some guests are to be received as Christ was by Pilate.

God became human so that people might become gods
Athanasius


We non-fundamentalist western Christians tend not to think too much about what happens when we die. Hell is no longer a serious possibility for most of us who are even halfway liberal mainline Protestants, Anglicans, or Roman Catholics. We do not deign to believe in a God who would be so judgemental as to consign people to the eternal slammer. On the other hand, how excited can we get over spending eternity floating on a cloud dressed in an angel costume? Some fans of process theology think that when we die we exist only as memories in God's (admittedly huge) data banks.
So what sense do we make of the above quote by Athanasius, the fourth-century bishop of Alexandria? Isn't that a bit too outrageous, even if we're grasping for a few optimistic straws? Becoming a god? Isn't that what the Mormons promise themselves after a lifetime of taking part in temple ordinances and putting on holy underwear?
Strange as it sounds, this doctrine has been at the heart of Eastern Christian theology and spiritual practice for nearly its entire history. But let's clarify what theosis means.
Right off the bat, theosis is not the same as pantheism. The essence of our human nature is not replaced by divine nature. As Bishop Kallistos Ware, perhaps the leading English-language Orthodox theologian, puts it,
we are able to affirm a direct or mystical union between man [sic] and God...
but at the same time we exclude any pantheistic identification between the
two: for man participates in the energies of God, not the essence. There is
union, but not fusion or confusion. Although "oned" with the divine, man still
remains man; he is not swallowed up or annihilated, but bewtween him and
God there continues always to exist an"I-Thou" relationship of person to
person.
(The Orthodox Way, p. 23)
The doctrine of theosis--also known as deification, divinization, or partaking of the divine nature--is scripturally rooted mainly in Psalm 82:6 (Now I say to you, "You are gods, and all of you children of the Most High) and in 2 Peter 1:4 ( about being "partakers of divine nature.)
In the eastern tradition, we achieve theosis by prayer, meditation, moral living, and, most particularly, participation in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist.