Perhaps the most perfidious myth foisted upon the Church by scholars of Early Christianity is the false notion that the Church’s deep association with the Roman Empire in the fourth century and beyond was the beginning of its long descent into worldliness and corruption. I’m sure many of you have heard such a theory both in your theological education and in the years since. It is certainly true that the Church’s relationship to the state, in any era of history, ought to be critically assessed and consistently monitored. At the same time, however, it is quite clear, when one carefully evaluates the relationship between the Roman Empire in Late Antiquity and the Church and its leaders, that perhaps the greatest asset that the imperial system bequeathed upon the culture and ecclesiology of the Early Church was its deeply-ingrained urban identity. As many scholars have noted, the single most unifying characteristic of late imperial Roman society was the interconnected web of cities and metropoles that highlighted the geographic map of the Mediterranean. It is not at all surprising to us, I am sure, that our most influential bishops eventually began identifying themselves as "Metropolitan." Their connection to the imperial urban structure of society was integral to both their growth in societal importance, and their effectiveness in governing the often unruly Church which was entrusted to them by Christ.

I bring all of this up because, for us today, not much has changed. We are still, primarily, an urban Church. Our primary context of ministry is the city in all of its glory, possessed by all of its sin, enduring by the grace of God. I experience, as I’m sure all of you do, the plague of homelessness, the myriad web of difficulties that arise from unemployment, and the great demon that is drug abuse in our current western American cities. At the same time, I live in a city that possesses extraordinary culinary establishments, outstanding art installations and institutions, and sports teams that make me cheer and weep (especially my beleaguered Phoenix Suns!). For us as religious leaders, these elements play a strong role in how we shape our ministries and witness to Christ amongst our various and diverse flocks.
 
Even though we know this is the case, however, I am often struck by the way in which teaching, preaching and even worship in our communities are deeply uninformed by the very "city" context in which the great majority of us live and serve. This is primarily a product, I think, of two phenomena, both of which are deeply ingrained in the revelation of our faith. Firstly, the Gospels themselves are filled not with images of city and urban life, but instead the agrarian and rural context in which Our Lord Himself served his disciples and the people of the region surrounding Galilee, Samaria and Jerusalem. Consequently, our preaching and teaching are deeply informed by Jesus’ parables, most of which revolve around rural thinking. Secondly, our monastic tradition, both historically and in the contemporary Athonite and American context, is almost exclusively rural and separated. Therefore, the very valuable insights of our monastic mothers and fathers are often soaked in the isolation and quietude of the "deserts" of our regions.

By no means am I suggesting that we ought to ignore the teaching of Our Lord or neglect the wisdom of the Fathers. By no means! However, we must always contextualize such teaching in two ways. First of all, whenever we use the Gospels or the Fathers in our teaching, preaching and guidance, we must clarify the context in which such wisdom was first proclaimed. We regularly assume that our people would know the characteristics of a grapevine or are able to visualize in their mind’s eye the various services of the monastic daily office simply because we know them. Nothing could be further from the truth. Too often I find myself in the midst of a homily or catechetical class (oftentimes my own!) listening to a monastic or agricultural story and suddenly realizing that the people are lost. It is essential that we contextualize our teaching so that spiritual wisdom encased in distant contexts, whether they be temporal or spatial, can become real and meaningful to all of the people for whom we are responsible.

In a more creative way, however, we must also not be afraid to package the timeless wisdom of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the language and customs of the urban contexts in which our people find themselves. Such a strategy is not simply a whim on my part, but a long-practiced theory of learning generally called constructivism. Constructivism’s central tenet is that people learn new concepts and ways of life by beginning from concepts and ways of life with which they are already familiar. New knowledge is attained and incorporated through a social dynamic of reflecting upon knowledge which is already ingrained in the individual. Therefore, in order to help our people transition into the process of death and life upon which our faith is grounded, we must begin with the contexts already known by them and in which they are already soaked.

Several years ago, Dr. Timothy Patitsas, one of our esteemed seminary professors, wrote a fascinating article that I would encourage you to read. In it, he reveals a correspondence he had with the late, famed urban theorist Jane Jacobs. His conclusion is that Jacobs, in her scientific study into the nature of American cities, unwittingly revealed the liturgical nature of the city itself. That is to say that time is an essential element in city life and city planning; and thus, city life reveals the eschatological nature of true reality which encourages a death and resurrection in all that we do, even in the organic life of a city! While I certainly can’t give a full account of Dr. Patitsas’ important revelation in this short space, suffice it to say, he reveals to us how important it is to truly understand the urban contexts in which we live. Most importantly, we must use that context to teach, preach and exhort our faithful to a life lived truly in and for Jesus Christ.

It is incumbent upon us to do so. Why? Simply put, Jesus Christ demanded that we, "Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you..." [Matthew 28:19]. Teaching and living Jesus’ commands is not an easy task to be sure. However, we can make it easier and sweeter for the people. By beginning our teaching in a way that appeals to the urban sensibilities in which we live, while at the same time contextualizing the distant nature of monastic and rural wisdom in our Church, we can bring people to the faith even more confident that the grace of God is working in them through us!

Bibliography

• Novak, Joseph, and D. Bob Gowin. Learning How to Learn. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989.
• Patitsas, Timothy. "The City as Liturgy: An Orthodox Theologian Corresponds with Jane Jacobs About a Gentle Reconciliation of Science and Religion." Legacy of Achievement, 2009: 830-850.
• Piaget, Jean. The Language and Thought of the Child. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1926.
• Wickham, Chris. The Inhertance of Rome: A History of Europe from 400 to 1000. New York: Viking, 2009.