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Archdeacon John Chryssavgis delivers the 33rd Annual Schmemann Lecture at St. Vladimir's Orthodox Seminary. He is introduced by Fr. Alexander Rentel.
Fr. Alexander Rentel: Theologian and teacher,
scholar and interpreter, servant of the Ecumenical Throne, and defender
of God’s creation.
In your theological scholarship, translating,
interpreting, and presenting the spiritual masters of the early Church,
you have nourished countless faithful today, showing them how to find
blessing in brokenness and comfort and guidance in ancient wisdom. In
your educational work across continents, establishing an accredited
seminary in Australia and teaching in this New World, you have been
guided by the faith which, as St. Gregory the Theologian says, “gives
fullness to reasoning,” showing the fruits that come from education at
the highest level in its students that you have inspired and who now
bear witness to Christ in this world.
In your labors on behalf of the environment, speaking, writing, and
advocating on its behalf, you have made us all aware of the vulnerable
and fragile beauty of God’s creation, encouraging us all to be better
stewards of this good earth. In your service to the Orthodox Church in
this country, helping build good inter-church relationships, especially
between the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese and the Orthodox Church in
America, and working to build up the Assembly of Canonical Orthodox
Bishops of the U.S.A., you have shown yourself to be a servant of all,
self-effacing and thereby all the more effective. And in your service to
the Ecumenical Throne as Archdeacon of the Throne, theological adviser
and consultant on inter-Orthodox affairs, you have worked to build up a
culture of conciliarity and consensus for Orthodoxy worldwide so that we
might indeed be able to speak with one heart and one voice for the life
of the world and for its salvation.
In all of this you have amplified and exemplified the vision of
faith, theological learning, and ecclesial being, to which we at St.
Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary aspire. Therefore we are
honored to affirm that, by virtue of the power vested in the Board of
Trustees and the faculty of St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary
and the Board of Regents of the State of New York, the degree of Doctor
of Divinity, honoris causa, is bestowed upon the Reverend Doctor John Chryssavgis, Archdeacon of the Ecumenical Throne. [Applause]
Archdn. John Chryssavgis: I’m guessing this is the
closest any deacon gets to dressing like a bishop. [Laughter] So I drove
from Maine this morning, and we have very little snow in Maine. You’ve
had quite a storm here in the last days. I had one that I’m just back
from in Geneva. Just a week ago, I honestly thought I’d be standing here
this evening saying, “Thank you very much for this honor.” Period. But I
have to admit, I never cease to be amazed at how fast things change in
the Orthodox Church! [Laughter] I should note from the outset that I
have modified the subtitle of my address, so from what you’ve seen on
your webpage, I’ve substituted “communion” for “consensus.” I’m
convinced that consensus is not an Orthodox concept, but I’ll come back
to this at the end.
Your Beatitude, Very Rev. Dean, venerable hierarchs and reverend
clergy, very distinguished friends, faculty, beloved seminaries, and
dear guests: Permit me to say that I could not imagine a more touching
affirmation for my regard for the legacy of your school than this honor.
My admiration for Frs. John Meyendorff and Alexander Schmemann shaped
my ministry both here and in Australia, and I would be hard-pressed to
identify any other clergymen with the breadth and boldness of the man
whose name graces this memorial lecture who decried the shameless
grandstanding of a Church woefully disregarding its role in the world,
yet not of the world.
We are paying the price (he writes in his journals) of the crisis of Orthodoxy, because we created so many idols. We are concerned with the fate of patriarchates and engulfed in jurisdictions, all of them brandishing canons, yet we try to conquer the West with what is weak and ambiguous in our heritage. This arrogance, self-satisfaction, and pompous triumphalism are frightening.
Some five decades later, in a similar assessment that I consider
definitive for the Orthodox Church, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew
addressed the fifth synaxis of primates in Constantinople in October of
2008.
We have received the true faith (he said). We commune of the same sacraments, we basically keep the same Typikon, and we’re governed by the same canons. Despite this, we must admit that we present an image of incomplete unity, as if we were not one Church, but a federation of churches.
And as I listened, I recalled Fr. Meyendorff writing in 1978.
Unquestionably (he said), our conception of the Church recognizes the need for leadership in the world episcopate, spokesmanship by the first patriarch, and a ministry of coordination without which conciliarity is impossible. In our chaotic years, we could indeed use wise, objective, authoritative leadership from the Ecumenical Patriarchate.
Fr. John died just months after the election of His All-Holiness. I
sometimes wonder how he might welcome the patriarch’s visionary
leadership today, especially in light of the Holy and Great Council, to
which I now turn your attention.
Of course, it might be better to avoid any meeting of bishops.
[Laughter] I know of no good to have come from even a single synod. I
know of no solutions that resulted, only additional problems that arose.
Their outcomes are arguments, ambitions, and rivalries. Bishops prefer
to reprove others rather than resolve eternal issues. That’s a
description that very well echoes my experience with regard to the
futility and frustration of ecclesiastical meetings, but the words
actually belong to St. Gregory the Theologian—and who am I to disagree
with such a prominent saint? [Laughter]
Today, even enlightened Orthodox hierarchs and theologians, along
with, of course, uninformed and malevolent critics, diminish the
importance of the forthcoming Great Council. So, given St. Gregory’s
skepticism, why bother convening a council? Would it be recognized as
ecumenical? What issues will the council address? Will it prove a source
of unity, or disunity? These are some questions I hope to address at
least partially this evening, since everything is unpredictable, or at
least everything depends on providence.
At the same synaxis of 2008, the final communiqué reaffirmed the
primates’ obligation to safeguard Church unity, to heal canonical
anomalies in the Diaspora and to resume preparations for the Great
Council. When the primates assembled again for their sixth synaxis at
the Phanar in March of 2014, arguably their foremost decision was to
convene the Holy and Great Council at the church of Hagia Eirene, the
site of the Second Ecumenical Council, on Pentecost 2016, “unless
something unforeseen occurs.” Since then, some churches rejoiced in this
decision; other churches reiterate the phrase, “unless something
unforeseen occurs.” So the “unless something unforeseen occurs” Holy and
Great Council has been on the table, in fact, since the early 1960s in
Rhodes, although plans and proposals began as early as the 1920s in
Constantinople and the 1930s on Mt. Athos. The Church of Russia did not
send representatives to those initial meetings, because, we’re told, of
complicated relations at the time with the state.
But the forthcoming council is unprecedented in that it will mark the
first-ever gathering of delegates from 14 autocephalous Orthodox
churches, including the ancient patriarchates except Rome. In the first
millennium, there were only five sees, located exclusively around the
Mediterranean and monitored rigidly by a secular authority, because
someone has to supervise the bishops, too. I’m not sure that it is
correct naïvely to dismiss disagreements between Orthodox churches as
“ecclesiastical rivalry”; while such an impression is not entirely
mistaken and while the process is painfully frustrating, it remains a
far more nuanced and representative process than perceived. Orthodox
authority is essentially and indelibly circular, at least symbolical, of
conciliarity and communion.
Yet, despite assessments by critics and pundits, both cynical and
constructive, we should not expect from the Holy and Great Council such
radical consequences as the Second Vatican Council had for the Roman
Catholic Church, because, while the Ecumenical Patriarch has
responsibility, has authority as the first among equals, he would never
imagine or impose primacy without collegiality; and second, the
autocephalous Orthodox churches are involved in decision-making, which
invariably incorporates local reception and not just universal
imposition; and third, while change in the Orthodox Church really does
move at glacial speed, it is always, nonetheless, organic, neither
reform from above nor revolution from below; it is the continuity of a
living tradition and a succession of an apostolic authority.
The Second Vatican Council marked the 21st council of the Roman
Catholic Church, seven of which are shared with our Church. By contrast,
the Orthodox have not summoned or sanctioned an ecumenical council
since the Seventh General Council of 787. Some maintain that the Council
of Constantinople in 879/880, which referred to itself actually as a
holy and ecumenical council, that that was the eighth such council,
because it incorporated all of the churches at the time, including Rome.
Others claim that the councils of 1341 and 1351 in Constantinople, the
ones that ratified the teaching of St. Gregory Palamas, should also be
recognized as ecumenical. The same is sometimes said of the Council of
Constantinople in 1484, the one that repudiated the Union of Florence.
But most theologians continue to speak of seven ecumenical councils.
In some ways, every council is a confirmation and a prolongation of
previous councils, so can the Great Council be considered ecumenical?
Canon law does not define any principles of ecumenicity. There’s really
only one test, ultimately, and that’s retrospective acceptance and
adoption by the people of God. Of course, while the Church is not
democratic, neither is it hierocratic. We must constantly disabuse
ourselves of the temptation to objectify truth, identifying it with the
letter of Scripture or the office of the bishop or even the institution
of the council. In 1848, the eastern patriarchs affirmed:
Among us, neither patriarchs nor council could ever introduce new teaching, for the defender of religion is the very body of the Church, that is to say, the people itself, which desires that its doctrine remain unchanged from age to age, identical to that of its fathers.
Now, at the Council of Jerusalem, we read that the elders and
apostles met to deliberate. The multitude kept silent, but it was not
passive. Much like in the Eucharist, the Holy Spirit is invoked upon us
and upon the Gifts before us, so, too, it seemed good to the apostles
and elders, with all the Church, the power rightly to divide the truth
is not granted to hierarchy in isolation but to believers in communion.
What, then, will be discussed at the Holy and Great Council? Certain
detractors are very quick to dismiss the Council as inconsequential,
claiming that “no weighty doctrine will be defined there,” but I’m not
so sure that bishops attending earlier councils did so with some
predetermination that they were destined by inspiration to settle some
major theological debate or ecclesiastical dispute. That would be
arrogance of the highest degree, even for clergy. Most councils, in
fact, focused primarily on internal governance. That’s natural! Councils
are how the Church is supposed to function. In the felicitous remark of
Patriarch Daniel of Romania at the recent synaxis of primates:
The forthcoming Great Council should not be seen as an eschatological phenomenon in the sense of being our last chance to meet before the Last Times, but as a significant historical event reinforcing conciliarity.
You see, councils are what bishops are expected to schedule
on their calendars. How did we ever lose sight of that? And then once
assembled, the bishops would deal with the issues at hand. So the agenda
of the “unless something unforeseen occurs” Great Council is an
opportunity, in fact, to reveal the heart and mystery of Orthodoxy to a
world that yearns for an account of the hope that is within us. Yet an
air of paranoia appears to cloud the agenda. This is not excessively
inflated a description for much of the reaction to the Council.
Fr. Schmemann might label it “Pentecost of the Devil,” the polar
opposite of what a council is or is supposed to be, the expression of
Pentecost. How else do I justify the concern among—I am talking here official Orthodox churches—about the Phanar’s “hidden agenda”? How can you explain religious websites that suspect, and I’m quoting,
“Top U.S. officials setting the agenda specifically for homosexuality”?
Or university professors who would lured devotees, their devotees, to
“Phanariote schemes plotting unity with papacy and
Protestantism”? How do we respond to respected Orthodox hierarchs who
express fears about “secret inter-Orthodox meetings”? Other detractors
contend that ecumenical councils convene only to eradicate treacherous
heresy.
However, the notion that contemporary challenges somehow don’t measure up to the glamour
of early heresies is, I think, just another ruse for subverting the
Great Council. I’d love to sympathize with those who dust pews in search
of contemporary Arians or look in religious haystacks for current
Nestorians, but they will more likely find their modern heretics among
Orthodox believers who are intolerant of other faiths or among Orthodox
clergy who find ways of reconciling the Gospel creed with secular greed.
They may even discover heterodoxy cajoling a synaxis of primates or an
assembly of bishops to justify ethnophyletism as “differences in
missionary or pastoral approach.” Are these not matters of truth and
salvation? Are these not issues of life and death? Is it just the filioque and the papacy that scandalize us?
In 1961 at Rhodes, the agenda actually included over 100 items,
subdivided even into eight distinct categories. Well, the final ten on
the agenda today relate to, first of all, internal relations among the
churches; secondly, issues of pastoral and practical nature; and
thirdly, external relations with other churches and the world. Over the
past 18 months, two special committees, a pan-Orthodox pre-conciliar
consultation and a synaxis of primates, labored to revise and finalize
documents for each of the agenda items. Here’s a brief run-down of the
events. There was meaningful progress on item one, the Orthodox
Diaspora, with the creation of the Assemblies of Bishops. I’ll return to
this specifically.
A document was adopted on the second item, autonomy, but no conclusion was reached on the third and conversation
was conducted on the fourth, both dealing with the landmine of how
autocephaly is determined and the hypersensitive ranking of churches on
the diptychs. The Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew lamented at the
synaxis just this past week: “No church wants to forfeit its place in
the order.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to predict—I did this two
months ago as I was thinking of this lecture—that these items would be
somehow circumvented.
On item five, about a common calendar, no revision was made to the
original language dating back to 1986. The text on the calendar
initially considered the date of Easter on the basis of scientific
calculations in order just to ponder—again, no hidden secret meetings
here—a common celebration of Easter. But any favorable impact on
Orthodox communities in the West notwithstanding, the mere prospect of alarming people by even uttering
the word “calendar” buried the entire discussion, and at the synaxis
this past week, the item was dropped from the Council’s agenda.
As for item six, on marriage impediments, a hasty revision under
pressure to stand up to the “evil forces in the world” resulted in an
incompetent, even impotent, statement. But should I be that surprised
that celibates struggled to produce a reasonable or charitable text on
marriage? The text on marriage impediments might actually have brought
some consolation, some dignity to numerous widowed clergymen, or even
monastics seeking to surrender their celibacy, but the Church often
handles issues of sexuality by denunciation or denial.
As for item seven, on rules of fasting, while a revised text was
approved, there was a fundamental shift in emphasis from the original
intent of addressing fasting regulations in missionary fields and in
Western societies to reinforcing familiar precepts of fasting. Again,
instead of striving to understand canons, it is often simpler to
underline rigidity for fear of undermining rules. Items eight and nine,
on inter-Christian dialogues and the ecumenical movement, were combined
into one text, and item ten, on the role of Orthodoxy today, was adopted
but not signed by all until the synaxis this past week.
Look, the texts are clearly imperfect, even incomplete. Most
hierarchs are dissatisfied, and the general public will certainly be
disappointed. I will analyze briefly the Diaspora and ecumenism in a
moment, but was it realistic to expect more of the agenda? In response
to one hierarch’s plea that his “church sees no reason for the Great
Council to convene unless we improve the documents to the level of those
produced by Vatican II,” the Archbishop of Cyprus pointed out at the
same synaxis of primates that what was achieved was actually the best we
could do. And it was spiritually refreshing to hear a man that I admire
so much, Archbishop Anastasios of Albania, contend, “Let’s admit our
humility, our inefficiency, and our poverty.” And he added, “Our
documents are the deficient, even defective prosphoron that we offer to
God who alone can transform them into Body and Blood of Christ.”
But still, how do you imagine that observers might view the issues
where our hierarchs have either reached agreement or chosen to differ?
Will people interpret ostensible consensus or ostentatious controversy
as misplacement in the hierarchy of values? Will they sense a glaring
omission of other topics like the pain of divorce or the second-class
role of women? Why so little headway on the pastoral issues of marriage
and fasting? Why the contentious stand-off on autocephaly and the
diptychs? Would it not be scandalous if bishops at the Great Council
argued over the desire to rule, which St. John Chrysostom called “the
mother of heresies,” at the expense of addressing practical concerns of
our faithful? Would it not reflect a dismal lack of moral compass and
prophetic criticism if a document related to Orthodoxy in the
world—instead of in its own world—did not condemn social and financial
injustice as well as racial and sexual discrimination, on which many of
our churches are often guilty of silence, if not collusion?
But let me further explore the first item on the agenda, an
indication, I think, of its paramount importance for the founding
fathers of the Council. The item related to normalizing the canonical
status of our churches in places with overlapping jurisdictions. Will
our bishops work toward a unified Church? is the basic question; or will
they persist in clinging to ethnic blinders? I would contend that the
most consequential and enduring pronouncement of the Great Council will
be its determination on the Diaspora. The question is whether churches
in the United States, in western Europe, in Australasia, comprising
immigrants and converts, long-established in their new homelands, miles
away and cultures apart from their mother churches, have the
single-mindedness and commitment to work in harmony.
Regrettably, many Orthodox churches seem to be retreating into a
sheltered, albeit stifling provincialism, which they explain, even
excuse, as pastorally more urgent than concerns of collegiality and
communion. It is depressing—it’s even deplorable to see contemporary
leaders, exposed to and educated in the global challenges of the modern
world, less interested in transcending parochialism and prejudice than
their predecessors, who were restricted by an oppressive xenophobia
behind the Iron Curtain. Isn’t this sin of nationalism alone sufficient
reason to convene the Great Council? How can we so brazenly justify this
heresy, sometimes even theologically and canonically?
In 1872, the Council of Constantinople “decried, denounced, and
condemned ethnophyletism,” emphatically declaring its proponents
schismatics. In 2009, the Fourth Pan-Orthodox Pre-Conciliar Conference
in Geneva unanimously established the Assemblies of Bishops in countries
with overlapping jurisdictions, a decision unanimously referred for
approval to the Great Council in June. The explicit mandate of these
Assemblies, their “unswerving obligation,” is to safeguard the unity of
the Church and, to quote the 2008 primate synaxis, “to advance the swift
healing of canonical anomalies.”
Despite justifications or vindications, we must candidly admit that
our churches have flagrantly diverged from the canonical and
ecclesiological principles of two millennia. For a Church that prides
itself on tradition, surely it’s embarrassing to defend our contention
and competition on the basis of preference for ethnic fascination or
preeminence of historical foundation or a predilection for numerical
force. We must frankly admit that we are relentlessly enticed by the
ideologies of panhellenism, panslavism, and panarabism. I appreciate
that we should embrace the broader social and cultural, even
the political, even the financial dimensions of global immigration, but
our ultimate vision should always remain ecclesiological, and the
Assemblies of Bishops constitute a positive and constructive way
forward. Accordingly, the primates recently issued a formal decision in
Geneva.
The Assemblies of Bishops, on the one hand, tangibly reveal the unity of the Orthodox Church (or the lack of unity), and on the other hand ascertain the impossibility of immediately transitioning to the strict canonical order of the Church. So this synaxis resolves to propose to the Holy and Great Council that this institution may be maintained until such time as circumstances mature to apply canonical precision.
In a way, the issue of the Orthodox Diaspora has already been
resolved, by the synaxis, at least, by the Council. There may be no
adopted text, but there is an agreed procedure, so the creation of the
Assemblies of Bishops is really itself a test of our willingness and
readiness, ultimately our integrity to be and to work together, to
acknowledge and to affirm our unity. Are we deliberately shrugging the
responsibility for Church unity, placed in our humble hands, by the
Church, by our own mother churches, by pan-Orthodox decision? And, if
so, are we squandering another invaluable, once-in-generations
opportunity to advance the Church in this country?
Just as the newly-ordained deacon holds the precious Body of Christ
in his fragile hands, the promise to shape the Church has been placed
before us. We bear this treasure in our earthen vessels. Have we become
so dysfunctional by division and ambition that we are bereft of the will
and the humility to remember and realize the vision of unity?
The other item I’d like to examine briefly concerns external
relations with non-Orthodox churches. I don’t think that we can continue
disregarding Orthodox isolationism and its attending fundamentalism
that consider dialogue with the other as contamination or heresy. The
tyranny of fragmented truth blinds people to the fullness of truth,
whereas the spirit of truth leads us into all the truth. It does not
obsess about partial or partisan truth. Think of how saintly theologians
like Photius the Great and Mark of Ephesus, those genuine confessors
and giant pillars, are frequently parodied as mirroring the conscience
of the most orthodox of Orthodox, although they were far more receptive
to dialogue than their small-minded contemporary cheerleaders. Is not
such a perverse and divisive distortion a sufficiently ecclesiological
heresy for a council to convene? Such abuses do not reflect the
catholic experience of the Church; they’re even incompatible with
statements by St. Mark of Ephesus himself. Listen to one passage from
St. Mark.
We need investigation and conversation in matters of theological disputation so that compelling and conspicuous arguments may be considered. Profound benefit is gained from such conversation, if the objective is not altercation but truth, and if the motive is not solely to triumph over others. Inspired by grace and bound by love, our goal is to discover the truth, and we should never lose sight of this, even when the pursuit is prolonged. Let us listen amicably so that our loving exchange might contribute to consensus (”omonoia” is his word).
A united and unequivocal response to extremist circles often
influenced by rigid clergy is important here: a reminder to our people
that Orthodoxy must be in constant dialogue with the world. If Orthodoxy
is enclosed, not in dialogue with those outside, it will both fail in
its mission and no longer be the catholic Church. It will, as Ecumenical
Patriarch Bartholomew wrote on the Sunday of Orthodoxy 2010, “It will
be reduced to a ghetto on the margins of history,” which does not imply
resignation to denominationalism or minimalism. The Church always seeks
the whole truth about the whole of humanity within the whole cosmos.
But one of the paralyzing factors in the conciliar process has been
the introduction of consensus as a way of appealing to or even appeasing
churches. Under the rules of operation adopted in 2009 and also in 2014
at the synaxis, decisions are taken by consensus, which is of course
intended to build trust in a mutually respectful process. The
Patriarchate of Moscow flaunts the principle of consensus as “a trophy.”
But how did voting take place in the early Church? Since unanimity
echoes uniformity, no church, not even Rome, could veto or control the
ultimate decision. From the mid-third century, based on Roman law,
decision by majority was the general practice. Majority vote was proof
of tradition, though it was inspiration, not numbers and not power, inspiration
brought about a majority of votes. So to invoke, or at least imagine
the presence of the Holy Spirit, a copy of the Bible became a prominent
and permanent fixture in the councils, as it is in the synaxis and as it
will be in the Great Council.
Professor MacMullen, formerly of Yale, writes:
Democracy teaches the equation: “Many is good,” but a truer understanding suggests another equation: “Many is god.” In voting, a power beyond the human might assert itself. Argumentation going off track invited divine rebuke.
Now, the method of voting is of course a matter of conjecture.
Evidence is very scant and very obscure. Out of over 15,000 councils
that might have convened between the fourth and sixth centuries, we can
only identify about 250. These councils were well-attended and, for the
most part, representative. Historian Philostorgius claims that during
the First Council of Nicaea, a paper was circulated for the bishops to
sign. At other councils, bishops or churches changed places to join
another group—a little bit like what will happen in Iowa tomorrow.
Sometimes voting reflected the system in the Roman senate, resembling
decision-making at the British House of Commons: the yeas standing on the right, the nays
on the left. So while the majority vote was irrefutably the way that
decisions were taken, there was no clearly established manner of
determining such majority, so long as seniority and fair representation
were assured.
It is, of course, incumbent on some Orthodox churches not to
obfuscate consensus with unanimity, manipulating it for procrastination.
The shield of consensus reflects the lamentable lack of conciliarity
ultimately in the Orthodox Church. How otherwise explain Moscow’s
insistence on consensus, when this was virtually ensured that the
council, in its preparatory meetings and even in the council sessions
itself, would not reach agreement on any vital matter? Is it so
surprising that Moscow’s Department for External Church Relations
complained, “Preparations for the pan-Orthodox Council have progressed
not quickly enough”? And, by the way, it’s the same church that insists
in 2014 on including the phrase “unless something unforeseen occurs.”
Consensus was never a model of conciliar expression. While consensus
is neither orthodox nor traditional, voting as churches, that people
criticize today, churches rather than as bishops, is both orthodox and
traditional. Personal voting probably reflects more modern
individualism. It’s a way for rambunctious critics to have their day in
court. Consensus would be inconceivable and intolerable in the internal
synodal procedure of any church today, even Moscow, even Constantinople.
No patriarch waits for consensus.
But let me conclude: Conciliarity implies retrieving a process that
involves renouncing preconceptions of authority and communion, and
relearning fresh ways of being and working together. To retrieve
conciliarity, our bishops must first of all assemble. The Greek word for
“council,” “synodos,” simply means being on the same road: “syn-odos.”
And journeying towards conciliarity means acquiring a sense of
re-conciliation. It’s called forgiveness. It’s called—the Greek word “synchōresis”—being
in the same space with one another, because we must honestly admit that
we have become estranged from the culture of conciliarity and
communion.
Are we surprised that so many of our churches are saturated by
un-Western or anti-Western bias? To quote Fr. Schmemann’s favorite,
Julien Green, “Culture cannot be improvised.” You see, culture matters,
and culture matures with time. It will take a long, arduous exercise of
discipline and schooling, a lifetime of cultivating and convening
councils, to rediscover this culture as an intrinsic and grace-filled
etiquette of Church life, which is not a luxury but compulsory for the
Church. There is no Church without council.
St. John Chrysostom defines Church as “institution and the synod.” In
the absence of a council, a church may function institutionally, but
it’s not Church. When bishops gather together, as we’re told, the Spirit
descends. Suddenly, breathtakingly, then even bland statements
miraculously produced by consensus at a synaxis prove less important
than the promise of the Spirit that appeared as tongues of fire, albeit
only after the apostles held their own tongues. Then bishops in council can boldly pronounce, “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us…”
Of course, only time will demonstrate whether the Orthodox
autocephalous churches can lay aside the temptations of power and trends
toward nationalism, because I was surprised that one primate at the
last synaxis vehemently protested that he had “never heard a more
outrageous and offensive a statement” in pan-Orthodox meetings than
another primate reprimanding the plenary for ethnocentrism. But if they
can, if the churches can overcome this ethnocentrism, then the Holy and
Great Council—unless something unforeseen occurs—promises to be a
watershed event, even if the conscience of the faithful will reveal
where it stands.
Even if imperceptibly, something changed last week, something changed
profoundly and permanently for Orthodox Christianity. I predict that
things won’t be the same, moving forward, because the spotlight is on us
now. People can tell who’s playing political Hunger Games or Trivial
Pursuit. Our Church can play a major role in the world, but for this to
happen, all of the Church’s indispensable structures, especially its
bishops, especially its councils, must be humbly placed at the service
of God, the Gospel, and the Body of Christ. Then centers of primacy will
no longer be centralized powers, but sanctuaries of communion. What a
refreshing example that would prove for a Church that is called and
claims to be in the world, yet not of the world!
Thank you very much. I’m sorry to drag on. [Applause]
