Orthodox Reflections

By Walt Garlington, an Orthodox Christian living in Dixieland.  His writings have appeared on several web sites, and he maintains a site of his own, Confiteri: A Southern Perspective.

Seraphim Rose (who reposed in 1982), before he became an Orthodox priest-monk, when he was still simply Eugene Rose, developed an historical outline explaining the rise of the demonic Revolution all over the world.  The outline consisted of four stages and was included as a chapter in his little but profound book, Nihilism: The Root of the Revolution of the Modern Age.  The four stages begin with liberalism and then run through realism, vitalism, and nihilism.

Liberalism is a society’s indifference to Truth, to Christ; realism is the rejection of higher, spiritual truths in favor of those that can be ascertained only through the physical senses, natural science, and the like.  Vitalism is a reaction against the sterility of realism, an attempt to imbue human life once again with some level of tradition and spirituality. It is likewise very much focused on energy, power, movement, adventure, the heroic, newness, and on the subjective experience of individuals to determine what is true and right for themselves.

Much of the West has sickened and withered under the unrelenting blasts of liberalism and realism.  And now, as Seraphim foresaw, the hunger for something better has begun to gnaw at the souls of her peoples.  It is none other than the leaders of the Big Tech subculture who have become the vanguard in a movement toward vitalism in the West.  They do not mention that word specifically in their documents (except once, tangentially, that we saw), but their stated goals align very well with the characteristics of vitalism as described by Seraphim.

The Tech Bros’ latest project bears this out.  They call it Praxis; here is how they describe it on the Praxis web site:

Praxis is the world’s first Digital Nation: a global community developing a culture, institutions, and infrastructure. Praxis is a home for the brave, who strive for virtue and wisdom. Our purpose is to restore Western Civilization and pursue our ultimate destiny of life among the stars.

A Praxian who calls himself Dryden Brown gives more details in one of the essays linked on the homepage:

It’s important for you to understand why we are building Praxis.

First, I’m going to share a secret with you.

Every civilization has had the same origin: in a wasteland, a people unite around transcendent purpose, and pursue it heroically.

Today, the West is a wasteland.

 . . .

But here’s a second secret:

To be born in the wasteland is to be chosen.

You live in a new Age of Heroes. Your fate awaits — if you have the courage to step forward.

You are not alone.

Across the West — around bonfires, on mountaintops, in shadow and in light — 100,000 have united under the banner of Praxis.

Praxis exists to unite the People of the West and resurrect the heroism that drove our ancestors to build empires – so our descendants might possess this flame.

 . . . We are not the children of decline. We are the children of empire.

The flame is ours now. Take it.

The founders of Praxis give even more detail of their intentions in a Declaration of Ascent they issued on 6 November 2024, modelled very much on the Declaration of Independence that begot the United States (which should again give us pause as to the beneficence of the latter document and its offspring).  Here is some of the more revelatory language from the former:

We ascend toward transcendence, striving to reunite with the eternal principles that shaped our highest civilizations. As the warrior-kings once sought the sacred Grail, so too shall we build an empire where true power flows from heroic courage and alignment with the divine order. Through this sacred pursuit, we will restore the foundations that elevated mankind beyond mere existence into ever greater heights of greatness and glory.

To these ends, we bind our destinies together as citizens of the first network empire. We commit ourselves to:

• • • • • • The cultivation of nobility, beauty, and excellence in all endeavors
          • The creation of new forms of human organization born from our highest ideals
          • The establishment of governance that nourishes the human spirit in its ascent
          • The development of our own territory, both physical and digital
          • The advancement of technology in service of human transcendence
          • The preservation and transmission of our highest values through generations
          • The extension of human civilization beyond the cradle of Earth

We undertake these commitments not in opposition to existing nations, but in recognition that humanity stands ready to evolve beyond current forms. We invite all who share our vision to join us in this great ascension.

In two particularly prescient passages from Nihilism, Seraphim warns us against the dangers that are present in vitalist proposals like Praxis:

There is no question, then, of finding in Vitalism a return to Christian–or any other–truths. There is, however, inevitably some pretense among Vitalists to do so. Many critics have noted the “pseudoreligious” character even of Marxism, though that epithet is applicable only to the misplaced fervor of its more enthusiastic devotees, and not to its doctrine, which is too clearly anti-religious in character. In Vitalism the question of “pseudo-religion” becomes much more serious. Here a quite understandable lament over the loss of spiritual values becomes father, on the one hand to subjective fantasies and (sometimes) to actual Satanism, which the undiscriminating take as revelations of the “spiritual” world, and on the other hand to a rootless eclecticism that draws ideas from every civilization and every age and finds a totally arbitrary connection between these misunderstood fragments and its own debased conceptions. Pseudo-spirituality and pseudo-traditionalism, one or both, are integral elements of many Vitalist systems. We must be cautious, then, in examining the claims of those who would restore a “spiritual” meaning to life, and especially of those who fancy themselves allies or adherents of “Christianity.” “Spiritualist” errors are far more dangerous than any mere materialism; . . . most of what passes for “spirituality” today is in fact a “new spirituality,” a cancer born of Nihilism that attaches itself to healthy organisms to destroy them from within. This tactic is the precise opposite of the bold Realist attack upon truth and the spiritual life; but it is no less a Nihilist tactic, and a more advanced one.

 . . . But perhaps most revealing of the infection of humanism by Vitalism is the strange axiom, romantic and skeptical at the same time, that the “love of truth” is never-ending because it can never be fulfilled, that the whole of life is a constant search for something there is no hope of finding, a constant movement that never can–nor should–know a place of rest. The sophisticated humanist can be very eloquent in describing this, the new first principle of scholarly and scientific research, as an acknowledgement of the “provisional” nature of all knowledge, as a reflection of the never-satisfied, ever-curious human mind, or as part of the mysterious process of “evolution” or “progress”; but the significance of the attitude is dear. It is the last attempt of the unbeliever to hide his abandonment of truth behind a cloud of noble rhetoric, and, more positively, it is at the same time the exaltation of petty curiosity to the place once occupied by the genuine love of truth. Now it is quite true to say that curiosity, exactly like its analogue, lust, never ends and is never satisfied; but man was made for something more than this. He was made to rise, above curiosity and lust, to love, and through love to the attainment of truth. This is an elementary truth of human nature, and it requires, perhaps, a certain simplicity to grasp it. The intellectual trifling of contemporary humanism is as far from such simplicity as it is from truth.

And yet, for all the dangers inherent in vitalism, the dreariness of the wasteland created by liberalism and realism is attracting many folks in the States to its banner, particularly younger folks, as one may discern from this report about the National Conservative conference held in January 2025, whose attendees the author likens to New Romantics (Romanticism being a form of vitalism).

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But for the Praxians, New Romantics, and others who are seeking a more meaningful life, there is another road open to them aside from vitalism.  It is that road of simplicity that Seraphim mentioned just above.  The vitalist thinks there is power in brash, loud assertiveness.  The Orthodox saints show that the opposite is true: Divine power rests upon those who live a life of quiet, unassuming simplicity.

A new saint of the Orthodox Church illustrates this with great clarity, Holy Matushka Olga of Kwethluk, Alaska (+1979).  Here is her life as given by the OCA:

In the wide stillness of the Alaskan tundra—where the sky stretches open like a prayer and the rivers flow between worlds—God planted a soul full of hidden beauty. On February 3, 1916 (January 21, Julian Calendar), in the village of Kwethluk, at the meeting of the Kwethluk and Kuskokwim rivers, a daughter was born to the Native Yup’ik people. Her name in the Yup’ik language was Arrsamquq, a name meaning lowly, hidden, or unadorned—like the seed sown quietly in the earth. It was a name that would prophetically mark her life, for she lived not in boastfulness or acclaim, but in humility, reverence, and love.

From childhood, she was formed both by the land and by the Church. Her hands learned the ancient skills of Yup’ik women—sewing, cooking, preparing food for winter, raising children, and keeping the home. But her soul was formed by the divine grace that had come to Alaska with the Orthodox missionaries from Russia. The faith of Saints Herman and Innocent had taken root in her village, and in her heart. Her home life, the seasons, and the services of the Church were woven together, creating in her a seamless garment of earthly service and heavenly longing.

As she matured, she married Nicolai Michael, the village storekeeper and postmaster, who would later be ordained to the holy priesthood. In time, she would become known not only as Olga, but as Matushka Olga—a mother to thirteen children of her own, and a spiritual mother to an entire village. Quiet, gentle, and strong, she became a pillar of warmth and grace in Kwethluk.

 . . . After her marriage to Nicolai Michael, Olga embraced not only the responsibilities of a wife and mother, but also the sacred calling of being a matushka—a priest’s wife, a helpmate not only to her husband but to the Church. When Nicolai was ordained and began serving as the priest of the Church of Saint Nicholas in Kwethluk, she became the quiet heart of that parish community.

She raised thirteen children of her own in modest means and with deep love. Her home was open; her heart was larger still. She offered hospitality not as a performance, but as a way of life. Whether sewing warm clothes for those in need, baking bread for the altar, or comforting a grieving neighbor, she did all things without self-importance. She was known never to raise her voice, and to teach—like many Yup’ik elders—not with scolding but by example. Those who came into her presence often found themselves stilled, as if by a quiet flame.

Her life bore resemblance to the holy women of the Scriptures. Like Tabitha (Dorcas) in the Acts of the Apostles, she was “full of good works and almsdeeds which she did,” and like the Most Pure Virgin Mother of God, she treasured the mysteries of life and of God in her heart. She clothed the naked, fed the hungry, and helped bring new life into the world. As a midwife, she accompanied women through the dangers and blessings of childbirth; as a counselor, she listened to those suffering in silence, especially women who had suffered abuse. Her presence was maternal, unjudging, and deeply healing.

Though she lived in a land of long winters and hardship, she herself was a source of warmth. Her daily life—marked by prayer, labor, and service—became a hidden offering to Christ. Her prosphora was kneaded with prayers, her garments sewn with intention, her silence filled with watchfulness and love.

Those who knew her remember her not for speeches or public deeds, but for the realness of her presence. She was always there—praying quietly in church, listening without interruption, carrying burdens without needing thanks.

In the eyes of the world, she was not great. But in the Kingdom of God, where humility is greatness and the last are first, she walked with the saints.

 . . . In 1978, Matushka Olga was diagnosed with cancer. By that time, she had already lived a full life of service and love. Yet, as with so many saints, her final chapter became her most luminous. She did not complain. She did not seek pity. She bore her affliction with the same humility and quiet strength that had defined her life.

When doctors could do no more, she did not despair. She continued to labor gently for those around her, even as her body grew weak. Her children and neighbors recall that she remained peaceful and kind, never bitter or afraid. Her illness became a cross, and she bore it without fanfare, entering more deeply into the sufferings of Christ.

On November 8, 1979, she reposed in the Lord, surrounded by her family in her home in Kwethluk.

Vitalists like the Big Tech Praxis builders would despise a humble saint like Matushka Olga as a retrograde force holding humanity back from its ascent to the stars.  But the opposite is true.  Her humility exalted her beyond the prideful dreams of those star-grasping, would-be pioneers of the new humanity:  She herself became a representative of the true new human race, recreated in Christ the God-man through Baptism and transformed and deified by the abiding of the Holy Ghost within her, given by Chrismation.  Great indeed is her power now.  The natural world honors her:

Her death, like her life, was not loud or dramatic—but it was accompanied by wondrous signs that revealed the hidden sanctity she had carried.

Though it was deep winter, and the land was locked in ice, the frozen river thawed, and the ice softened, allowing boats from nearby villages to arrive—a miracle of timing and temperature that no one could explain. Birds appeared in the sky, though they should have long since flown south. They circled above the village, as if bearing witness.

Matushka Olga has conquered sin and death, remaining present here in the world despite her soul’s separation from her body, and with the power to heal those who are afflicted with problems:

In the decades after her repose, Matushka Olga’s memory did not fade. On the contrary, her presence deepened. Stories began to circulate—quietly at first, then more widely—of dreams, visions, and healings. Women in distress felt her nearness. Survivors of abuse spoke of being comforted in their sleep. Families troubled by sorrow found themselves praying to “Matushka Olga” as they would to a beloved elder or a wise grandmother. And she answered.

The uncovering of her relics in 2024 provided more confirmation of what has just been said about her:

Then, in the year 2024, nearly forty-five years after her death, the Church undertook the uncovering of her relics. It was a sacred labor, carried out with prayer and reverence by clergy and faithful gathered in the village of Kwethluk. The day before, a blizzard had made travel nearly impossible. But on the morning of the uncovering, the skies cleared, the wind was stilled, and the sun broke through—as though creation itself made way.

As her coffin was raised from the frozen ground and reverently opened in the presence of Gospel readings, what was revealed became a quiet confirmation of sanctity. Her bones bore the golden, honey-colored hue often associated with the relics of the saints. Her headscarf, kasp’aq, and wedding veil—garments worn in prayer, in service, and in love—remained miraculously preserved. These sacred vestments stood as silent witnesses to a life clothed in humility and grace.

For all the fantastic and pretty visions of the future that they spread before eyes and minds (see the propaganda artwork on the Praxis homepage, for instance), the vitalists are, after all considerations, merely precursors to the final stage in Seraphim’s outline, nihilism.  This is the last act of the drama, pure satanic destruction, obliterating anything remotely reminiscent of the Goodness of God, the All-Holy Trinity.  Rather than enabling the ascension of man, vitalism is preparing his ultimate degradation under the rule of Antichrist.  We have had foretastes of it in the French and Russian Revolutions, China under Mao, and all the rest of it.  The vitalism of the Tech Bros is helping to usher in more quickly the full manifestation of Antichristian nihilism.

The future according to Praxis. 

Nevertheless, the Orthodox Church abides yet in the world, vivifying it with the healing and transforming energies of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, calling us to communion with God and with his angels and saints, giving birth to new saints through the cooperation of men and women, girls and boys, rich and poor, weak and strong, with the Grace of God.

The true adventure and heroism are in the Orthodox Church.  To all the cynical and jaded, to all the bored and weary, she says, Come!