“Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander” (I Peter 3:15)
This beautiful admonition from the epistle of St. Peter has a few presuppositions: A. that you have such a gift of hope motivating your behavior others notice and will ask you why; B. that you understand the cause of your positive attitude towards the world and yourself; C. that you are ready, willing and capable of explaining it, or using scriptural language, of witnessing to your faith in Jesus Christ.
Assuming [A] that you have a sunny disposition and a healthy attitude towards your life, putting into perspective even the shadows and dark moments that come in your way, and even you know why you are full of vigor, with the ability to tell about it to others, do you really want to “give an account of the hope that is in you”? Isn’t it odd that the Orthodox Christians who have so much to share with the people of our time and nation rarely do so? Living in a culture with so many who are lost and searching for values, who seem to be shifting from one religious fad to another, now reading some celebrity’s book about how after several marriages she or he found the door to eternal wisdom, now discovering how [exercise, dieting, meditation, whatever] turned grief into ecstasy—the Orthodox Christians with our overabundance of prescriptions for spiritual growth and joy of life in Christ are either reluctant to share or haven’t found a way to communicate what it is that gives life meaning.
Some would say, “Come and see,” the very verbs that our Lord Jesus told to Andrew and John (John 1:39). Just attend the Divine Liturgy and all will be revealed to you. Do what the ambassadors did who were sent by Prince Vladimir to Constantinople and reported back that they didn’t know if they were standing on the earth or had been caught up into heaven. I question that conviction, because it isn’t always, or maybe often, successful. It may capture the heart of somebody whom the Holy Spirit has prepared for the gift of inspiration to unite a seeking soul with the presence of Christ—as St. Gregory of Nyssa put it: “The One who knows, in search of the one who wants to know.”
For more ordinary modern persons, however, the wealth of riches we Orthodox hold in very earthen vessels must be described, explained and exemplified before those who in our culture will comprehend. This is not a simple matter. Orthodox Christianity in traditional cultures permeated all aspects of life from birth to burial. There was little need to explain or describe faith, or even hope and love—it was just the way things were. If a fish could speak and were asked to define water, the question would confuse it. Our faith, as lovely and wonderful as it is to us, is curious to typical Americans—not what they think of when they consider Christianity. Like Americans in general, our laity leave the Divine Liturgy as spectators, not as evangelists with the duty to share the faith with outsiders. Even now with the miracles of technology, those who explain the Orthodox faith on CDs, DVDs, radio programs or in written form are nearly all professionals: priests, theologians, professors, or journalists. True Orthodox, on the other hand, know the ancient axiom: The one who prays is a theologian, and the theologian is the one who prays.”