Firefly: Creating Family

Under my black cassock, I am wearing a brown coat. Not literally, of course, but certainly metaphorically. That is, I am an unapologetic fan, defender, and devotee of the TV series Firefly. My family owns three (that’s “three”) DVD copies of the series—one for watching, one for loaning, and one for an emergency backup in case something happens to the other two. Like I said: a fan.

One of the reasons I am such a fan is because the series provides the preacher in me with so many good lines and so much good theological material. Here I would like to examine what it is perhaps Firefly’s most obvious lesson—how to create unity out of diversity.

The crew of Firefly (for the uninitiated, Firefly is the ship in which everyone lives) are indeed all quite diverse. There is the captain and owner of the ship, “Mal”, a tough cynic and former believer who lost his faith fighting for the lost rebel cause. There is his first mate, an equally-tough lady named Zoe, battle-hardened, disciplined, and a fellow-soldier with Mal in the rebel army (the “Browncoats”). She is married to a distinctly non-battle hardened man, one who plays with toy dinosaurs and pilots the ship. His name is Washburne. We find a mercenary Jayne Cobb, a man without any obviously noticeable culture or conscience. We find the ship’s mechanic, Kaylee, sweet as everyone’s little sister, and the heart of the ship. We find a clergyman, (a “shepherd”) by the name of Book, a man of humour, strength, and conscience. We find fugitives on the run, Simon, a doctor, and his kid sister River, whom he saved by abducting her from a mysterious facility that was experimenting upon her brain. And we find a professional and pricey prostitute, taken on board to give the crew some respectability. (Yes, respectability—she is a very professional and very pricey prostitute—“companions” they were called.) Surveying them all, it would be hard to find a more diverse lot, and one is tempted to scornfully say that only on television could you actually find such a diverse group occupying the same space.

The scornful should resist the temptation, for the truth is that each parish is made up of such a diverse group. In fact, Christian unity in diversity is what it’s all about. This diversity began with the Twelve: in this group you had humble fishermen, who had no real “connections” with the important and the powerful, and you had someone who was well-connected enough with the powerful to know the High Priest (see Jn. 18:15). You had a Zealot (who wanted to kill all the Romans), and you had a tax-collector (who worked for the Romans). The Twelve were a mixed lot, with nothing to bind them into one except their love for their Lord.

The earliest apostolic churches continued this diversity, with Jews rubbing shoulders with Gentiles, rich with poor, educated with uneducated, slaves with slave-owners. The earliest churches were not divided into homogenous groups (or “jurisdictions”). Every Christian in a given geographical area was a part of the same local church. Regardless of their ethnicity, race, former religion, age, amount of wealth, or educational status, they all found themselves rubbing shoulders with each other in the same community week by week, and drinking from the same Chalice. We are called to do the same today. In our parishes we find that same old diversity, and we rub up against people utterly unlike us. In all this rubbing, we may find ourselves “rubbed the wrong way” by those sharing the same space in church, and yet we are called to be one with them. But how does one do that? How does one create unity between persons who are so different?

Firefly shows us how—by being together and by sharing danger. The shared dangers and crises they endured slowly moulded the crew of Firefly into a single group, a single body. Their differences were not annihilated; each person was still very different from all the others. But each had his own contribution to make to the common goal of survival. And each was valued because of that unique contribution. It is the same in the parish: everyone is different, everyone is unique. Everyone is valued. But worshipping together Sunday by Sunday, and sharing the experience of striving to survive the challenges from the World, the Flesh, and the Devil, slowly mould us into a single body. Joss Whedon, the creator behind Firefly, called this “creating family”. We call it “living as the body of Christ”.

E Pluribus Unum?

The Latin phrase e pluribus unum is found on the seal of the United States, adopted by an Act of their Congress in 1782. It was considered de facto as their national motto until 1956, when the motto “In God we trust” was officially adopted. E pluribus unum means “out of many, one”, referring to the many individuals and states becoming one single nation. It was, and is, a good motto.

The phrase could be taken also as God’s call to the many Orthodox jurisdictions in North America. There are many such jurisdictions, such as the Greek Orthodox, the Antiochian Orthodox, the Serbian Orthodox, the Romanian Orthodox, and my own Orthodox Church in America (aka “the OCA”). The list is, sadly, an impressively long one, containing both numerically large jurisdictional bodies and small ones. Each has its own gathering of bishops, its own infrastructure, its own methods of fund-raising, its own ecclesiastical department of external affairs, whereby it relates to other Orthodox and Christian bodies. And each of them acknowledges, at least formally, that the current status quo of many jurisdictions co-existing on the same geographical territory is uncanonical and needs to the changed. The ancient norms, enshrined in the canons, assumes and calls for one bishop per city, so that all Orthodox Christians in a given geographical locale are not simply sacramentally united (i.e. in communion one with another), but organically united as well, looking to one and the same bishop, and sharing the same ruling presbyterate. Having differing groups of Orthodox in the same area divided into ethnic groups is clearly contrary to the canons. From this verdict there is no dissenting voice. The bishops of all the Orthodox jurisdictions can read, and all agree that the canons require this sort of unity. We didn’t get into this jurisdictional mess overnight, but we do need to get out of it. In the terms of the old American motto, the “pluribus” needs to become “unum”.

Some Orthodox have suggested that the time for such jurisdictional unity is not yet, because Orthodoxy on North American soil is too young and immature. In this view, we need to wait until we mature more and meanwhile stay under the protection of the various mother churches in the Old World. I regard such a view as utter gas, and scarcely worth a sensible reply. We have, in fact, been on North American soil for over two hundred years, and if after that time we are still too immature to run our own organizational show, we should simply pack it in and let the adults in the non-Orthodox churches be the ones to serve Christ here. We Orthodox are, as a matter of fact, quite capable of discerning the will of Christ for the New World (as others call our home), and of striving to fulfill it.

But if all the bishops and theologians and seminary professors agree that such canonical unity is desirable and is God’s will, then why don’t we have it? In a word, because as a whole, American Orthodox don’t really want it. If we truly desired jurisdictional unity, we could have it by next week. It would require courage in dealing with the mother churches of the Old World, and humility in dealing with one another. The fallenness of the human heart and our long-entrenched stubbornness would provide lots of opportunities for patience in working with each other. But it could be done more or less immediately, if we as a total group possessed the political will for it. Why don’t we have such a political will? That is the real question, and the answer to it reveals what is really wrong with Orthodoxy in the New World.

I am a Canadian, and can speak of the Canadian situation with greater ease and certainty than the American (or Mexican) ones. But I believe that an analysis of the Canadian situation will have some applicability further south as well. Up here in Canada, Orthodoxy is tribal. That is, it defines itself and therefore survives (i.e. funds itself) in ethnic terms. No one is simply Orthodox. The Greeks are Greek Orthodox; the Serbs are Serbian Orthodox; the Romanians are Romanian Orthodox. (The O.C.A. are an embarrassment, because they have since 1970 famously and self-consciously chosen to buck this tribal trend.) This analysis and theory can be tested in a thousand ways. For example, in my neighbouring Vancouver, the church hall of the large Greek church has the names of famous Greek philosophers ingrained in wood on the four walls. Not St. Athanasios (I give him a Greek spelling for his name, although in fact he was African); not St. Gregory Palamas. Not St. Kosmos the Aetolian. Aristotle, and Plato and Sophocles. What matters fundamentally in the church wood is not faith, but famous Greek ancestry. Or take the church sign outside the local Serbian church—the lettering (in Cyrillic script) is painted overtop the Serbian flag.

This Canadian experience finds cultural confirmation in American films. When in the film “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” a nice American boy converts to Orthodoxy and is baptized (in a pink wading pool, no less), he exults afterward to his fiancée, “Now I’m Greek!” Orthodoxy is being defined in exclusively ethnic terms. The church finds its core membership and its financial support on this basis. Who needs evangelism when one has abundant immigration?

I believe that this is the real reason for our corporate lack of urgency in pursuing Orthodox jurisdictional unity. Such a unity would inevitably involve some dilution of our various ethnic self-presentations to society, and a change in our various jurisdictional self-understandings. A change from the status quo is considered by some as too risky, as possibly imperilling financial survival. It is easier to give lip service to our “spiritual” and sacramental unity and live with what we have.

The problem, however, is that what we have does not give adequate expression to the Gospel. It consists too much (I won’t say entirely; that depends upon individual bishops, pastors and congregations), of presenting ourselves to the world rather than Christ. We are famous for our Food Festivals (with a church tour tacked on for those who might be mildly interested in such exotica), not for proclaiming Christ as the Saviour and hope of the world. St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians that he preached not himself, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and as himself as their servant for Jesus’ sake (2 Cor.4:5). In making our main message not Christ, but Orthodoxy (i.e. ourselves in our various ethnic dresses), we are doing exactly the opposite of what the apostle did, and preaching not Jesus Christ as Lord, but ourselves. The reluctance to trumpet the Gospel and to call our neighbours to repentance is deeply ingrained in North American Orthodoxy (the exceptions to this will forgive me), and the reluctance goes far up the hierarchical ladder. In reading the Ecumenical Patriarch’s well-written primer and presentation of Orthodoxy to the common man, entitled Encountering the Mystery, I could not find a single instance of our primus inter pares calling his neighbours to repent, forsake their former religions, and become disciples of the risen Son of God. I did, however, find a long section explaining the history and significance of the office of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. It is easy to preach ourselves. Preaching Jesus Christ as Lord to a hostile world is a lot trickier.

But tricky or not, it remains our task. The current jurisdictional disunity witnesses to and reveals our underlying weakness. We need to become truly Orthodox Christians first, and Greeks, Romanians, Americans and Canadians second. Pride in ethnic heritage is good, but it is not a fruit of the Spirit, and in this case the good has become the enemy of the best. We need to recover a burning desire to preach Jesus Christ to the mass of North Americans who do not know Him, and those who do not worship Him in the fullness of the Orthodox Faith. If this is our deepest desire, we will not fear to sacrifice the current jurisdictional status quo for something else. Our hearts will be anchored in Christ, not in our national pedigree. E pluribus unum. Out of many, we can become more truly one, and out of that unity, we can more effectively help our North American neighbours encounter the saving mystery of Christ.