Both the charismatic  Evangelical and the Eastern Orthodox have a mutual tilt, that is, a bent toward disenchantment. Either seeking more concrete and direct revelation by an ecstatic oracle or a room filled with wood, stone and canvas as instruments both liturgical and pedantic, the outcome is the same. And what it displays seems to be a dissatisfaction with the mundane appearance and nature of the simple Word and Sacrament, which is more mystical and incarnational than either the charismatic or the iconologue may claim to be.

I hate those moments when once again I’m confronted with cowardice and ignorance that masquerades as humility and wisdom. It utterly diminishes me. I just swell up with a surging maelstrom of anger, sadness, defeat, despair and shame for my fellow man who lives by facsimiles of virtues. A life filled with nothing but moral circumspection without any cognitive direction. To believe anything without allowing its discussion or challenge is a fanaticism which abdicates something of what it is to be human, to be made in the image of God. It sacrifices our ability to doubt and reason upon the altar of assurance. And it is a sacrifice that I could never make.