[Frederica-l] Beliefnet: Men and Church

[Frederica at aol.com]

Beliefnet is running an interview with John Eldredge, author of Wild at 
Heart, which analyzes why men are less likely to go to church than women are, and 
makes some recommendations. They asked me to submit something on the topic of 
Men and Church, and I thought what I could bring was something about why men 
are attracted to Orthodoxy; we seem to be pretty gender-balanced, a rarity among 
churches. I started trying to write out some guesses as to why that was, but 
ended up sending a query to about a hundred Orthodox men I know, asking what 
they thought. It turned out to be really eye-opening to me. I think I learned 
things about what men aer like, and what it important to them, that I didn't 
know before. Anyway this is a much better piece than it would have been if I'd 
written my own ideas. there are some really great lines in here! 
 
It's been posted on Beliefnet, a version that's a little shorter: 
_http://www.beliefnet.com/story/224/story_22439_1.html_ 
(http://www.beliefnet.com/story/224/story_22439_1.html) 
they haven't run it on the main page, though, so it hasn't been read much 
yet, and there are no entries in the comments "mini-board". I expect it will be 
controversial once they put a spotlight on it. You can check that link from 
time to time and see whether you want to weigh in. 
 
And here it is on my website, the same longer version that's in this email, 
below: 
 
_http://www.frederica.com/writings/men-and-church.html_ 
(http://www.frederica.com/writings/men-and-church.html) 
 
one of the things I noticed was that, what women might think of as 
constricting legalism (eg, you do the liturgy exactly this way, and icon looks like 
this), men think of as simple clarity. Men are willing to do hard things, but they 
want to be secure in knowing that they're heading in the right direction, 
that their effort is constructive and fitting. 
 
and the second bold heading below -- a bit plaintive and familiar to any 
wife! 
 
 
 
**************************
 
In a time when churches of every description are faced with Vanishing Male 
Syndrome, men are showing up at Eastern Orthodox churches in numbers that, if 
not numerically impressive, are proportionately intriguing. This may be the only 
church which attracts and holds men in numbers equal to women. As Leon Podles 
wrote in his 1999 book, The Church Impotent: The Feminization of 
Christianity, "The Orthodox are the only Christians who write basso profundo church music, 
or need to."  
Rather than guess why this is, I emailed a hundred Orthodox men, most of whom 
joined the Church as adults. What do they think makes this church 
particularly attractive to men? Their responses, below, may spark some ideas for leaders 
in other churches, who are looking for ways to keep guys in the pews.  
Challenging. The term most commonly cited by these men was "challenging." 
Orthodoxy is "active and not passive." "It's the only church where you are 
required to adapt to it, rather than it adapting to you." "The longer you are in it, 
the more you realize it demands of you."  
The "sheer physicality of Orthodox worship" is part of the appeal. Regular 
days of fasting from meat and dairy, "standing for hours on end, performing 
prostrations, going without food and water [before communion]...When you get to 
the end you feel that you've faced down a challenge." "Orthodoxy appeals to a 
man's desire for self-mastery through discipline."  
"In Orthodoxy, the theme of spiritual warfare is ubiquitous; saints, 
including female saints, are warriors. Warfare requires courage, fortitude, and 
heroism. We are called to be 'strugglers' against sin, to be 'athletes' as St. Paul 
says. And the prize is given to the victor. The fact that you must 'struggle' 
during worship by standing up throughout long services is itself a challenge 
men are willing to take up."         
A recent convert summed up, "Orthodoxy is serious. It is difficult. It is 
demanding. It is about mercy, but it's also about overcoming oneself. I am 
challenged in a deep way, not to 'feel good about myself' but to become holy. It is 
rigorous, and in that rigor I find liberation. And you know, so does my wife." 
Just Tell Me What You Want. Several mentioned that they really appreciated 
having clarity about the content of these challenges and what they were supposed 
to do. "Most guys feel a lot more comfortable when they know what's expected 
of them." "Orthodoxy presents a reasonable set of boundaries."  "It's easier 
for guys to express themselves in worship if there are guidelines about how 
it's supposed to work-especially when those guidelines are so simple and 
down-to-earth that you can just set out and start doing something."  
"The prayers the Church provides for us-morning prayers, evening prayers, 
prayers before and after meals, and so on-give men a way to engage in 
spirituality without feeling put on the spot, or worrying about looking stupid because 
they don't know what to say."  
They appreciate learning clear-cut physical actions that are expected to form 
character and understanding. "People begin learning immediately through 
ritual and symbolism, for example, by making the sign of the cross. This regimen of 
discipline makes one mindful of one's relation to the Trinity, to the Church, 
and to everyone he meets."  
With a Purpose. Men also appreciate that this challenge has a goal: union 
with God. One said that in a previous church "I didn't feel I was getting 
anywhere in my spiritual life (or that there was anywhere to get to-I was already 
there, right?) But something, who knew what, was missing. Isn't there SOMETHING I 
should be doing, Lord?"  
Orthodoxy preserves and transmits ancient Christian wisdom about how to 
progress toward this union, which is called "theosis." Every sacrament or spiritual 
exercise is designed to bring the person, body and soul, further into 
continual awareness of the presence of Christ within, and also within every other 
human being. As a cloth becomes saturated with dye by osmosis, we are saturated 
with God by theosis. A favorite quote comes from the second-century bishop, St. 
Irenaeus: "God became man so that man might become god." (By the way, it's 
easy to find long-time church members who are unfamiliar with this, and may 
never have been taught it. The main instrument of teaching Orthodox faith has 
always been theologically-rich hymnography, and they may attend a church where 
worship is in a beautiful but archaic language they can't understand.)  
Challenges and spiritual disciplines increase self-knowledge and humility, 
and lead to strength over sins that block union with God. A catechumen wrote 
that he was finding icons helpful in resisting unwanted thoughts. "If you just 
close your eyes to some visual temptation, there are plenty of stored images to 
cause problems. But if you surround yourself with icons, you have a choice of 
whether to look at something tempting or something holy."  
A priest writes, "Men need a challenge, a goal, perhaps an adventure-in 
primitive terms, a hunt. Western Christianity has lost the ascetic, that is, the 
athletic, aspect of Christian life. This was the purpose of monasticism, which 
arose in the East largely as a men's movement. Women entered monastic life as 
well, and our ancient hymns still speak of women martyrs as showing 'manly 
courage.'" 
"Orthodoxy emphasizes DOING. Grace is not just a static concept, as in the 
old acronym, 'God's Riches at Christ's Expense.' Grace is God's activity in the 
world and within us, and we're supposed to share in it and participate in it. 
The emphasis on action really appeals to a man's desire for significance. Guys 
are ACTIVITY oriented."  
A New Dimension. One man expressed his "excitement at discovering a dimension 
I had somehow sensed [in previous Christian experience] but had been unable 
till now to identify, the noetic." The Greek biblical word "nous" (adjective 
"noetic") gets translated "mind" in English bibles, but it doesn't mean the 
cogitating intellect. The nous is the aspect of "mind" that comprehends and 
understands; it is designed to perceive the voice and presence of God.  
"Noetic reality," the reality of God's presence and of the entire spiritual 
realm, "had become completely distorted in the Christianity I knew. Either it 
was subsumed into the harsh rigidity of legalism, or confused with emotions and 
sentimentality, or diluted by religious concepts being used in a vacuous, 
platitudinous way. All three-uptight legalism, effusive sentimentality, and vapid 
empty talk-are repugnant to men." The discovery of the ancient Christian 
concept of the nous means that he can now "encounter (really encounter, not just 
pick up as an emotional infection) the invisible realities that form the 
genuine substance of the Christian lexicon. It is not just empty talk after all!" 
This unpredictable, life-changing, immediate encounter with God is "inherently 
dangerous, a new adventure, and a consummate challenge."  
Challenges well-met bring a man closer to something else that attracts him: 
freedom. "Even if we have yet to experience complete freedom from the passions, 
we know that freedom will be paradise. To have self-control over carnal 
appetites, to have clarity for noetic insights, to be liberated from the permanence 
of death-that is the freedom we crave."  
So the challenges have a practical goal. "Participation in the Holy Mysteries 
[sacraments], observing the fasts, daily prayers, and confession with a 
spiritual director means making progress along a defined path that is going 
somewhere real and better."  
Jesus Christ. What draws men to Orthodoxy is not simply that it's challenging 
or mysterious. What draws them is the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the center of 
everything the Church does or says.  
In contrast to some other churches, "Orthodoxy offers a robust Jesus" (and 
even a robust Virgin Mary, for that matter, hailed in one hymn as "our Captain, 
Queen of War"). Several used the term "martial" or referred to Orthodoxy as 
the "Marine Corps" of Christianity. (The warfare is against self-destructive sin 
and the unseen spiritual powers, not other people, of course.) 
One contrasted this "robust" quality with "the feminized pictures of Jesus I 
grew up with...I've never had a male friend who would not have expended 
serious effort to avoid meeting someone who looked like that." Though drawn to Jesus 
Christ as a teen, "I felt ashamed of this attraction, as if it were something 
a red-blooded American boy shouldn't take that seriously, almost akin to 
playing with dolls."  
A priest writes: "Christ in Orthodoxy is a militant, butt-kicking Jesus who 
takes Hell captive. Orthodox Jesus came to cast fire on the earth. (Males can 
relate to butt-kicking and fire-casting.) In Holy Baptism we pray for the 
newly-enlisted warriors of Christ, male and female, that they may 'be kept ever 
warriors invincible.'"  
After several years in Orthodoxy, one man found a service of Christmas carols 
in a Protestant church "shocking, even appalling." Compared to the Orthodox 
hymns of Christ's Nativity, "'the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay' has 
almost nothing to do with the Eternal Logos entering irrevocably, inexorably, 
kenotically, silently yet heroically, into the fabric of created reality."  
Continuity. Many intellectually-inclined men began by reading Church history 
and the early Christian writers, and found it increasingly compelling. 
Eventually they faced the question of which of the two most ancient churches, the 
Roman Catholic or the Orthodox, makes the most convincing claim of being the 
original Church of the Apostles.  
A life-long Orthodox says that what men like is "stability: men find they can 
trust the Orthodox Church because of the consistent and continuous tradition 
of faith it has maintained over the centuries." A convert says, "The Orthodox 
Church offers what others do not: continuity with the first followers of 
Christ." This is continuity, not archeology; the early church still exists, and you 
can join it.  
"What drew me was Christ's promises to the Church about the gates of hell not 
prevailing, and the Holy Spirit leading into all truth-and then seeing in 
Orthodoxy a unity of faith, worship, and doctrine with continuity throughout 
history."  
Another word for continuity is "tradition." A catechumen writes that he had 
tried to learn everything necessary to interpret Scripture correctly, including 
ancient languages. "I expected to dig my way down to the foundation and 
confirm everything I'd been taught. Instead, the further down I went, the weaker 
everything seemed. I realized I had only acquired the ability to manipulate the 
Bible to say pretty much anything I wanted it to. The only alternative to 
cynicism was tradition. If the Bible was meant to say anything, it was meant to 
say it within a community, with a tradition to guide the reading. In Orthodoxy I 
found what I was looking for."  
Continuity is what stands behind those opening "challenges" and gives them 
authority, and makes the Orthodox life an organic unity. Spiritual disciplines 
chosen piecemeal, according to taste, will lack that resonant authority, but if 
the goal is still union with Christ, they remain of value. But if such 
disciplines are valued merely as bait to attract men toward Christianity, they're 
vain and empty (not to mention patronizing). One priest ridiculed the 
artificiality of "retreats where men beat drums, scream, and grunt for no apparent 
reason!" 
Worship weirdness. Men who go from intellectual exploration to visiting an 
Orthodox church can be initially bewildered. "Orthodoxy is too startling to a 
Protestant who first encounters it." "It's amazingly different." "The 
prostrations, the incense, the chanting, the icons-some of these things took getting 
used to, but they really filled a void in what I'd experienced till then." "Some 
men initially can't make heads or tails of what we do in worship, because it's 
not purely intellectual, and employs poetic worship language."  
Perseverance pays: "Orthodoxy is startling at first, but the more I hung 
around, the more a sense of being home took hold." "At first we were bowled over 
by the high liturgy and its intense reverence, but there was something else 
going on too. It's that there is such a strong masculine feeling to Orthodox 
worship and spirituality." Speaking as a girl, I initially disliked Orthodox 
worship, because I was used to an approach that aimed at inspiration and uplift-in 
short, aimed at me. The relentless focus on God alone seemed "hard." After a 
few months, though, I discovered that I had a deep-seated hunger for that 
objective God-focus, though I'd never suspected it before. A female visitor to a 
Vespers service that was only occasionally in English told me that she didn't 
understand much that went on, "But I know one thing: this is so not about me."  
A life-long Orthodox priest writes, "Orthodoxy is full of testosterone! We 
sing, we yell 'Christ is Risen!', we shove even adults under water in baptism, 
we smear them with oil. Two or three things are always going on at once. Unlike 
what I saw in a Western church, it doesn't take a huddle of people several 
minutes of fussing to light a censer. You light it and off we go, swinging it 
with gusto and confidence!" 
Not Sentimental. In The Church Impotent, cited above (and recommended by 
several of these men), Leon Podles offers a theory about how Western Christian 
piety became feminized. In the 12th- 13th century a particularly tender, even 
erotic, strain of devotion arose, one which invited the individual believer to 
picture him or herself (rather than the Church as a whole) as the Bride of 
Christ.  "Bridal Mysticism" was enthusiastically adopted by devout women, and left 
an enduring stamp on Western Christianity. It understandably had less appeal 
for guys, and perhaps the rigor and objectivity of the Scholastic movement 
which arose about the same time was an equal-and-opposite reaction. "Head" and 
"heart" were split; men retired for brandy and cigars in the Systematic Theology 
Room, while praying and church-going were given over to women. For centuries 
in the West, men who chose the ministry have been stereotyped as effeminate. A 
life-long Orthodox layman says that, from the outside, Western Christianity 
strikes him as "a love story written for women by women."  
The Eastern Church escaped Bridal Mysticism because the great split between 
East and West had already taken place. Christians in the Middle East, Eastern 
Europe, Asia, and Africa continued to practice an earlier, non-dualistic form 
of Christianity, with an emphasis on acquiring continual awareness of Christ's 
inner presence through spiritual disciplines and humility. 
The men who wrote me expressed hearty dislike for what they perceive as a 
soft Western Jesus. "American Christianity in the last two hundred years has been 
feminized. It presents Jesus as a friend, a lover, someone who 'walks with me 
and talks with me.' This is fine rapturous imagery for women who need a 
social life. Or it depicts Jesus whipped, dead on the cross. Neither is the type of 
Christ the typical male wants much to do with."  
During worship, "men don't want to pray in the Western fashion with hands 
clasped, lips pressed together, and a facial expression of forced serenity." 
"It's guys holding hands with other guys and singing campfire songs." "Lines about 
'reaching out for His embrace,' 'wanting to touch His face,' while being 
'overwhelmed by the power of His love'-those are difficult songs for one man to 
sing to another Man." 
"A friend of mine told me that the first thing he does when he walks into a 
church is to look at the curtains. That tells him who is making the decisions 
in that church, and the type of Christian they want to attract."  
"Guys either want to be challenged to fight for a glorious and honorable 
cause, and get filthy dirty in the process, or to loaf in our recliners with 
plenty of beer, pizza, and football. But most churches want us to behave like 
orderly gentlemen, keeping our hands and mouths nice and clean."  
One man said that worship at his Pentecostal church had been "largely an 
emotional experience. Feelings. Tears. Repeated rededication of one's life to 
Christ, in large emotional group settings. Singing emotional songs, swaying hands 
aloft. Even Scripture reading was supposed to produce an emotional experience. 
I am basically a do-er, I want to do things, and not talk about or emote my 
way through them!" He was helped by Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline, 
which introduced the idea that there are such things as "spiritual 
disciplines, other than passive Bible reading." Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Cheap Grace was 
also eye-opening. "As a business person I knew that nothing in business comes 
without effort, energy, and investment. Why would the spiritual life be any 
different?"  
Another who visited Catholic churches says, "They were conventional, easy, 
and modern, when my wife and I were looking for something traditional, hard, and 
counter-cultural, something ancient and martial." A catechumen says that at 
his non-denominational church "Worship was shallow, haphazard, cobbled together 
from whatever was most current; sometimes we'd stand, sometimes we'd sit, 
without much rhyme or reason to it. I got to thinking about how a stronger 
grounding in tradition would help."  
"It infuriated me on my last Ash Wednesday that the priest delivered a homily 
about how the real meaning of Lent is to learn to love ourselves more. It 
forced me to realize how completely sick I was of bourgeois, feel-good American 
Christianity."  
A convert priest says that men are drawn to the dangerous element of 
Orthodoxy, which involves "the self-denial of a warrior, the terrifying risk of loving 
one's enemies, the unknown frontiers to which a commitment to humility might 
call us. Lose any of those dangerous qualities and we become the 'JoAnn Fabric 
Store' of churches: nice colors and a very subdued clientele." 
"Men get pretty cynical when they sense someone's attempting to manipulate 
their emotions, especially when it's in the name of religion. They appreciate 
the objectivity of Orthodox worship. It's not aimed at prompting religious 
feelings but at performing an objective duty. Whether you're in a good mood or bad, 
whether you're feeling pious or friendly or whatever, is beside the point."  
Yet there is something in Orthodoxy that offers "a deep masculine romance. Do 
you understand what I mean by that? Most romance in our age is pink, but this 
is a romance of swords and gallantry." This convert appreciates that in 
Orthodoxy he is in communion with King Arthur, who lived, "if he lived," before the 
East-West schism, and carried an icon of the Virgin Mary.  
>From a deacon: "Evangelical churches call men to be passive and nice (think 
'Mr. Rogers'). Orthodox churches call men to be courageous and act (think 
'Braveheart'). Men love adventure, and our faith is a great story in which men find 
a role that gives meaning to their ordinary existence."   
Men in Balance. A priest writes: "There are only two models for men: be 
'manly' and strong, rude, crude, macho, and probably abusive; or be sensitive, 
kind, repressed and wimpy. But in Orthodoxy, masculine is held together with 
feminine; it's real and down to earth, 'neither male nor female,' but Christ who 
'unites things in heaven and things on earth.'"  
Another priest comments that, if one spouse is originally more insistent 
about the family converting to Orthodoxy than the other, "when both spouses are 
making confessions, over time they both become deepened and neither one is as 
dominant in the spiritual relationship."  
Men in Leadership. Like it or not, men simply prefer to be led by men. In 
Orthodoxy, lay women do everything lay men do, including preach, teach, and chair 
the parish council. But behind the iconostasis, around the altar, it's all 
guys. One respondent summarized what men like in Orthodoxy this way: "Beards!"  
"It's the last place in the world men aren't told they're evil simply for 
being men." Instead of negativity, they are constantly surrounded by positive 
role models in the saints, in icons and in the daily round of hymns and stories 
about saints' lives. This is another concrete element that men appreciate-there 
are other real human beings to look to, rather than a blur of ethereal terms. 
"The glory of God is a man fully alive" said St. Irenaeus. One writer adds 
that "The best way to attract a man to the Orthodox Church is to show him an 
Orthodox man."  
But no secondary thing, no matter how good, can supplant first place. "A 
dangerous life is not the goal. Christ is the goal. A free spirit is not the goal. 
Christ is the goal. He is the towering figure of history around whom all men 
and women will eventually gather, to whom every knee will bow, and whom every 
tongue will confess."  

********
Frederica Mathewes-Green
www.frederica.com



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