by Will Cohen
In a 2015 address at the University of Munich,
Metropolitan John Zizioulas observed that “[t]he agenda of Theology is
set by history.” By “history” he meant the concerns and questions
particular to a given age, as he underscores in adding, “This was known
to the Fathers of the Church who were in constant dialogue with their
time.”
If the Church’s theology must accept the questions of history in
order to be vital and serve humanity, the same is not true of the
conclusions history may hurriedly reach. Christians have sometimes not
readily enough accepted history’s questions and sometimes too readily
accepted its answers.
Of relevance to this dynamic is how Church
teaching is understood—specifically, in relation to the place of
dialogue in the Church.
When in the flow of history an issue erupts, becoming a real question
for human beings, the fact that there is already Church teaching on
it—if that is the case—can be taken to mean it is unnecessary and even
impermissible for Christians to take it seriously as a question. Instead
of rediscovering and deepening the teaching through the question, those
who appeal to the teaching in order to beat the question back cannot
really speak to the question the present age has posed, because they
have not entered into it in a sufficiently real and searching way.
On the other hand, when Church teaching is viewed as merely transient
and malleable, it cannot function properly to keep the engagement with
history’s questions from being conducted on history’s terms (even if on a
surface level dressed in the language of tradition). Church teaching
has an obviously integral role to play in creating a certain distance,
including a space of time, in which for the Church to work out,
according to her own inner logic, whether history’s pressing take on a
given matter is one she can accept, and if so how so or if not why not.
The recent letter of the German Orthodox Bishops Conference addressed “to Young People concerning Love — Sexuality — Marriage,”
is unusual for how it holds together the value of dialogue and the
value of Church teaching. The letter presents neither as canceling out
the other.
From the start, the letter signals that it will not offer broadsides
against modernity, in which diversity and dialogue are held in high
regard. In writing that “[t]he world is moving ever closer together.
And the burning issues of our time come increasingly to the fore. They
are of profound concern to human existence — your existence: God places
the present and the future in your hands,” in effect the bishops are
endorsing the drama of history and the great significance of being alive
in it. From here they identify the “peace, freedom, democracy and
human rights” that Germany preserves as God’s blessings. These are to be
defended because they are inherently consistent with the scriptural
notion of the person as created in God’s image. “In the ability of human
beings to decide for themselves, we see one of the characteristics of
this divine image.” The Christian importance of individual freedom
continues to be emphasized—even as the bishops pivot to speak of the
“complete responsibility” it entails—with affirming references to “open
discussion,” “dialogue”, and the “spiritual advice” by which the Church
accompanies her faithful, instead of just by “formulat[ing] rules in a
mechanical way.” When the letter mentions realities like pre-marital
sex, interfaith marriages and same-sex unions, it is in no rush to
express judgment or alarm about them. Readers accustomed to quicker
clarification may begin to wonder if there is some equivocation going on
with regard to what the Church believes and teaches.
But in fact the letter proceeds to reaffirm teachings of Orthodoxy at
odds with contemporary cultural orthodoxies, and to do so in simply
expressed statements, at once unaggressive and unconcealed. With
respect to “marriages between Orthodox and other Christians,” the
question of receiving Holy Communion is broached. “The position of our
Church is still: Such reception is only possible if there is complete
unity in faith. Such unity is not present in inter-denominational
marriages.” This blunt statement is obviously in conformity with
traditional Orthodox ecclesiology rather than pluralistic notions of
inclusion. Yet it is delivered without triumphalism: “Here we are all
confronted with a situation which is painful and manifests itself as a
theological challenge. This has to be acknowledged in all honesty. And
so we ask God to help us soon to overcome the separation and to find
our way to the unity of all.” However humbly expressed, the principles
invoked here, of unicity and objectivity, suggest Orthodoxy’s distance
from the modern (or post-modern) spirit.
Farther along when the bishops write, “A burning issue today is the
question of homosexuality and homosexual partnerships,” it may seem just
a simple way of introducing the next topic, but it is more than that,
for here the move the bishops are making is really that of giving dignity to the question,
and, by extension, to all those wrestling with it from whatever
perspective and basis of experience. In most treatments of this topic,
the pattern in the Orthodox world today is either only to decry bigotry
against gay people or only to reassert the Church’s traditional
teaching. The German Orthodox bishops do both. “[H]omosexual men and
women were ignored for centuries,” they write, “and even oppressed and
persecuted, as for instance in the time of National Socialism.” They
also write: “[A]ccording to Orthodox understanding the mystery of
marriage requires a union between man and woman” and therefore “the
marriage of homosexual couples is not possible in our Church.” The idea,
favored by many conservatives, that our desires need not rule us is
articulated: “Like any physical inclination, this one too is overcome by
exercising restraint, the moderation of unbridled passions, and chaste
asceticism, such as we learn in fasting.” The notion favored by many
progressives, that not everything about this complex issue is so settled
in tradition that there is nothing further to talk about, is also
expressed: in a general way (“That this topic is discussed openly in our
society can in principle be seen as a good thing”) and in terms of
biblical interpretation (“In Holy Scripture, both in the Old Testament
and also in the New Testament, there are statements against
homosexuality. The value of these statements is the subject of
controversial debate today”). As differences over hermeneutics and
theological anthropology continue to be engaged, we are enjoined “to
show love and respect to all men and women” in our parishes and elsewhere.
The German bishops’ letter does not present dialogue as displacing
what has been long understood to be the Church’s teaching on sexuality
and marriage, reiterated at Crete in broad strokes and here also by the
German bishops themselves. Neither does it present the teaching as a
kind of insulation to keep us from being touched or troubled by the real
and honest questions being wrestled with by so many today.
Genuine questions and debate exist; the teaching stands amidst them.
Since responses of alarm over the former and impatience with the latter
only feed each other, and since it is likely to be decades before the
apparent tension between the dialogue in all its flux and the teaching
in all its immobility comes to be resolved, the German bishops’ letter
is a kind of invitation to people uncomfortable with the given state of
affairs for very different reasons to coalesce: not yet in the unity of
mind which must remain the purpose of our ongoing struggle to see the
“burning questions” of our time more deeply and clearly, but in the
knowledge that our providential discomfort must continue to serve this
great and meaningful purpose.
The German bishops’ letter is addressed to “young people.” Perhaps no
accumulation of years or knowledge is enough to exclude any of us from
the category. With its straightforward honesty and refreshing way of
troubling the usual polarities, the letter offers rejuvenating
encouragement and hope that our ecclesial conversation, by going deeper,
may also go beyond familiar ruts to reveal concerns and commitments
binding us together in ways and to a degree that may yet take us by
surprise.
Will Cohen is Associate Professor of Theology & Religious Studies at the University of Scranton and President of the Orthodox Theological Society in America (OTSA).
Public Orthodoxy seeks to promote conversation by providing a forum for diverse perspectives on contemporary issues related to Orthodox Christianity. The positions expressed in this essay are solely the author’s and do not necessarily represent the views of the editors or the Orthodox Christian Studies Center.