Father Joseph over at Orthodixie had a fine idea, which is to conduct an Orthodox tent revival. I don’t know where you live, but in North Carolina where Father Joseph and I are from, tent revivals are a powerful, powerful draw. In fact, at an abandoned drive in theater only a couple of miles from my house a tent goes up every summer, and does a pretty good business for a week or so. In this culture, tent revivals are a combination religious/entertainment/get out of the house on a hot summer night event. I am pretty taken with the idea. I really am — as Sts. Herman and Innocent showed us, you meet people where they live.
But, having said that, I can’t help but imagine what it might be like. Consider, on a muggy summer evening, the big tent is aglow, and enticing sounds drift out, coming from a bluegrass band. Remember where you are — we’re talking hymns like “I’ll Fly Away” and “Down to the River”. I can even imagine an extra verse tacked on to “I’ll Fly Away” —
One fine morning when my life is done,
I’ll fly away!
Through the tollhouses, I won’t have to pay!
I’ll fly away!
And then a certain subdeacon gets up to introduce the guest evangelist, who we are going to need to refer to as Father Joe:
I can feel the presence of the Lord! Its a powerful presence! Can you feel the presence? Say hallelujah!
I’m here tonight to introduce our evangelist, Father Joe. Right now, Father Joe is riding the range for the Lord in Texas. He is a stranger in a strange land, he is bringing the slaves out of Egypt! But in his heart, Father Joe is still the tarheel he grew up as. Yes, he has left the great North State and gone west, having received a command of the Lord. He is obedient! But his heart has always yearned for home, for the high green hills, for the streams where the trout jump and the woods where the bear roam.
So when the Lord laid it on his heart to come back home, to preach to the brothers and sisters in his home state — why he got down off that horse and got into his pick up truck, and he came back. He came back because he is a tarheel born and bred! He came back because he loves his home! He came back at the command of the Lord to save souls from the grip of the devil, from the lion that roars and goes here and there even in these quiet mountains, looking to devour souls.
I’ve got to tell you a story. When I called Father Joe and asked him to come back and preach this revival for us, he cried “Hallelujah”! Just like that. And then he wept and told me this:
‘Jim-Bob, I’m out here on the plains, and its a fine place, but I always think to myself that if the Lord took a giant iron and ironed down the mountains of the county where you live, why the county would be bigger than Texas! But it is the high ridges and deep hollows that God loves, and not the flat plains! That is what the Lord told me, and that is why I am so excited about coming for this revival.’ (See footnote one)
So here he is, back from Egypt, with a message the Lord has laid on his heart just for us! Father Joe!
I mean, I really like the idea. I know it sounds like I’m being funny, but I’m not really. Meet people where they live. Herman and Innocent and Cyril and Methodius can tell you that much. And after Father Joe talks to them about being catechized and baptised and chrismatized so that they can then be eucharized — well, all of a sudden we just might have a parish.
Footnote #1 - There was once a DA here who started every jury argument pretty much in those words, inserting the proper county name, but insisting that if God ironed it flat it would be bigger than Texas, but that God loves it just the way it is. At the end of one trial, as I got up to take the first argument, Buck had to leave the courtroom for some reason. I seized the moment: “Mr. District Attorney will come back in here in a minute and tell you that you live in God’s country — which we do — and if God took a giant iron and flattened our hills it would be bigger than Texas, but that God loves his mountains! That He does, but the real reason he doesn’t flatten this county is because He loves his people here, people who have learned common sense in these hills and hollers. No sir — its not about mountains, its about common sense…”and then I was off, just as Buck walked back in. Unaware of what I had done, he started his ironing the county bit, and the jury started giggling at him. He never could figure out what had happened.
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Frederica Mathewes-Green wrote a really funny tale about an Orthodox priest who had been invited to speak at a pro-life rally. He was near the end, by which time he had figured out his audience was primarily evangelicals, so he started his remarks with, “Holy God!” And everyone responded with, “Yes, our God is holy!” “Holy! Mighty!” “Yes, our God is a mighty God! Amen! Tell it, brother!” “Holy! Immortal!” “Immortal is our Savior, yes!” And then the priest dropped his voice to its deepest level and murmured, “Have *mercy* on us.” “YES, LORD! MERCY! MERCY!” (I’m paraphrasing.) He had them eating out of his hand…
There is a Archimandrite from the Greeks here in Oz working in a mission in Kenya. He comes back once a year to raise funds for the work he does there [health and education, as well as Orthodoxy], and his sermons are punctuated with, “Can I get a Hallelujah?” Always brings a smile.
Wow. This, along with the comments above mine, is hilarious. Even if you didn’t mean it entirely humorously, it’s great. Have I told you I grew up Baptist? This sounds… well, somewhat familiar.