Here is a paper I wrote for class. My first paper since going back to college this fall.
“Bad Christians”
As a Christian I was often in despair over my sins. I remember all too well the feeling of “total hopelessness” and that “total certainty of [my] own perdition.” One of my favorite parts about leaving Orthodox Christianity is that I don’t have to live that “dismal existence” anymore. I’m no longer “waiting for death.” Bearing this in mind imagine my surprise when my father (an Orthodox presbyter) gives me an issue of The Orthodox Word with an article by Alexander Tkachenko entitled “Bad Christians.” This article not only asks why so many contemporary Orthodox Christians “don’t know how to love themselves,” but also why many “don’t even want to.” He asserts that Christians can and should love themselves, laying out a theologically sound argument for this assertion and offering not only personal anecdote that is supremely relatable, but also presenting evidence from Scriptures and “the Fathers” that provide an excellent defense for this claim.
In the editors’ introduction to “Bad Christians” we learn that Alexander Tkachenko is a Ukrainian scholar who has been a columnist for the well-known Russian Orthodox journal Foma (Thomas), whose “insight and wit have made him a favorite with readers in Russia.” Although originally published in Russian for a Russian audience this article addresses a universal problem with Orthodox Christian life. If I were still an Orthodox Christian it would have been extremely helpful, however, as an aspiring religious scholar it provides an illuminating perspective on an aspect of Orthodox praxis that is fraught with misunderstanding.
“If we’re such believers, then why do we feel so bad?” This opening immediately grabbed my attention and gave the author standing. I thought “hey, I’ve asked that question too!” Tkachenko goes on to quote a Russian saying that “Christianity is when you do good and it makes you feel bad.” By opening with such bluntness and humor he immediately puts his audience at ease. He strengthens this ethical appeal with a personal tone, being relatable in how he questions his experience as a Christian. For example: “Why did the joy of my initial conversion to God turn…into such a dismal experience?” Throughout the article it’s sentences like that that make Tkachenko’s message so strong. He ends his introduction by asking again this question that many Orthodox Christians have asked: “Why is it that contemporary Christians frequently don’t love themselves?”
“Can a Christian love himself?”
Instead of directly answering his opening question, Tkachenko asks another: “Can a Christian love himself?” By questioning the validity his opening question – and proving it with his answer – he opens the mind of his reader to a broader skepticism, giving them a chance to question their underlying assumptions about the Christian life and certain elements of it that are taken for granted. He is urging his reader to ask themselves if they even should love themselves. For the answer, he points to the Judeo-Christian phrasing of the Golden rule “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” The answer then is an emphatic Yes! Loving thy neighbor is predicated on loving one’s self. That Christians should love themselves is the foundation of his whole argument, and is made even more effective because it sets up the theme of Love; calling to mind deeply Christian phrases like “God is Love” and “the greatest of these is Love.”
Tkachenko goes on to assert that Christian’s unwillingness to love themselves is explained by misinterpreting Christs words in the gospel of Matthew “If any man come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross, and follow Me” as code for hating one’s self. What follows next is an incredibly elegant three stage argument that employs a personal tone, and ethos, pathos, and logos to undermine his audience’s inclination to misinterpret self-denial and taking up one’s cross as a reason or even excuse to avoid loving themselves. This argument is perfectly tailored for his audience. First he quotes St. Philaret of Moscow:
“To deny oneself does not mean to leave one’s soul and body without consideration and without care, but only to deny the passionate attachment to the body and its pleasures, to temporal life and its prosperity, and even to delights of soul that are drawn from unpurified nature; to the desires of one’s own will, and to the favorite understandings of one’s personal philosophizing…”
Emphasizing the last two lines:
“But what is this self-renunciation needed for? Because without this, the desire to follow Christ would remain unrealizable.”
Next he interprets St, Philaret for the contemporary layman comparing passions and sins to baggage: “It’s impossible to set out on a long hike with a backpack stuffed with all kinds of junk that isn’t needed for suck a trip.” Tkachenko also uses words like “burdened”, “exhausted” and “weight” to prime the reader for this Then after making this connection in the minds of his readers he quotes Matthew 11:28-30:
“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
This technique is most effective for Orthodox Christians. In particular Russian Orthodox and those in the more traditional conservative strain. Just the type to read The Orthodox Word magazine. First Tkachenko gets their (“our” might also be appropriate because I grew up steeped in this culture and haven’t fully recovered) ears to perk up at the sound of what I call Jesusy negative self-talk; pseudo-self-deprecation or false humility is common among Orthodox Christians. Then he namedrops and quotes St. Philaret who is not only familiar to his readers, but is also held in high regard by them. He finishes the argument off with a Scripture passage (Matt. 11:28-30) that specifically targets the hope Christians have in a kind loving God, the kind of God that would take your baggage – help you out so to speak. Lastly Tkachenko goes for the pathos gut punch by asking “can we, dare we, not love ourselves when Christ loves us?
But I’m a bad Christian
On the heels of this elegant preaching, Tkachenko deftly switches to personal narrative, drawing his readers into a story most will relate to pointing out that despite all the arguments we still feel like “bad Christians”. He then proceeds to dismantle this assumption with an excellent theological argument that makes a powerful distinction between “sins” and what are often called “passions” or fallen human inclinations. To sum this up Tkachenko says “A modern Christian…often does not realize what the difference is between sins unto death and sins not unto death, between sins of thought and passions.” This is what leads good Christians into that miserable existence that Tkachenko opened his article with. He lays this out logically with a hypothetical. “If I, without committing any mortal sins, am living in a foretaste of eternal perdition rather than of the resurrection…if eternal blessings are already inaccessible to me, then let me at least try tasting sinful delights – I’m done for anyway.” This excellent psychological point however was undercut by blaming the cause of this type of thought on the Devil. While it may be an effective appeal of pathos to an Orthodox Christian, it seemed out of place in this otherwise erudite argument.
Joy making Sorrow
At this point in the argument, Tkachenko knowing his audience addresses one of the main arguments against loving oneself, an argument I have used personally: “The Holy Fathers abased themselves, used harsh language against themselves, and accused themselves of the most horrible sins, and so we should also do that.” The Orthodox hagiographical tradition and penitential prayers do support this argument. But again, he deftly deconstructs this common misunderstanding of saints by likening God’s goodness to radiance, saying that “within His radiance the saints saw themselves as sinful, unworthy of this divine purity, which can even highlight flaws in angels.” Going on he writes that the saints unlike us, were not in a “dejected state of abandonment,” but in a “profound closeness to God.” Thus, making them more conscious of their own unworthiness and prompting them to even greater depths of repentance that would in turn bring about joy. Here he quotes St. Symeon the New Theologian on how Christians must work towards that “joy making sorrow.” This quote is an effective use of both Logos and Ethos in that St. Symeon is a clear rational writer, but he is also one of only three saint in the Orthodox church with the title “theologian” giving his words a weight in the minds of his readers that very few other saints bring.
After some more commentary on how to “love oneself in a Christian way,” Tkachenko quotes from St. Ambrose of Optina, St. Seraphim of Sarov, and St. Ignatius Brianchaninov, three prominent 19th century Russian saints; an excellent use of ethos since all three are held in high regard by his audience. The Seraphim quote is worth reading in part:
“We must condescend to our soul in its weaknesses and imperfections and endure our shortcomings as we endure those of others; however, we must not become lazy, but force ourselves to the better…Courageously move yourself to amendment, and in the meantime, strive to preserve peace of soul.”
These quotes are interwoven with harsh criticism of this false asceticism of self-hating Christianity using the iconography of the parable of the Publican and the Pharisee to illustrate his points. Bad Christians ends with a personal appeal.
Tkachenko, in an excellent use of ethos, affirms the validity of his argument referencing his own struggle with this “naïve and crafty ‘self-abasement and humility’…” and how he doesn’t want to waste his life on that “stupid confusion.” In this vulnerable appeal Tkachenko uses words like “learning” and faith affirming phrases like “I know he never left me,” that artfully tap the Christian clichés while maintaining his unique message. He ends by rewriting the aphorism from his introduction: “Christianity is when u do good, even when you feel bad. Because when you’re doing good, Christ is always standing beside you.
And of course, that’s when I’m right back to the cold comfort of atheism. The assertion that the ghost of a dead Jewish rabbi is standing beside me brings no hope or aid as I attempt to live an ethical altruistic life. Tkachenko’s argument may have helped the15 year old me struggling to become a strong Christian man, but then I wonder why was it that I was never exposed to this way of understanding the Christian life? And if I was exposed to it (I most certainly was through example), why did I like many others, fail to absorb and actualize this message of Christ centered self love? The fact that this article needs to exist is a meta critique of contemporary Orthodox Christianity.
Unknown, editor. “Bad Christians.” The Orthodox Word, vol. 52, no. 1-2, ser. 306-307, 2016, pp. 4–16. 306-307.
In this rhetorical analysis I wanted to place a textual analysis of Tkachenko’s argument into a contextual analysis based on my personal experience of contemporary Orthodox Christianity as well as my academic interests in the study of religion. I think I accomplished this, but I’m not sure that the personal anecdotes about atheism would work if I were to write this paper in a religious studies context. In other words in that context my fear is that making this personal would be great for logos and pathos, but not so much ethos. The audience I had in mind while writing was an intelligent reader who had at least a basic knowledge of Christianity and specifically Orthodoxy, but not much more. I expect my reader to look up a word they do not understand, but I don’t expect them to Wikipedia nuanced theological concepts. The other audience I was writing for perhaps in a subtler way was practicing Orthodox Christians, specifically my dad.
I like my in-depth analysis of his word choices, rhetorical devices, and structure. My main concern is that my analysis could be longer and more detailed – more quotes and analysis – but I didn’t want to lose my readers interest by splitting hairs too much.
caz and little: speaking the unspoken 