HOLY AND GREAT COUNCIL DOCUMENT

Draft Synodical Document

Τετάρτη 12 Ιουνίου 2019

CONSTANTINOPLE, MOSCOW AND UKRAINE. WHO IS VIOLATING ORTHODOX UNITY?


A collaborator of Patriarch Bartholomew speaks on the clash with the Partriarchate of Russia for the concession of autocephaly to the Church of Kiev
It is tempting, albeit naive, to consign a rift between Constantinople and Moscow—this time over autocephaly in Ukraine—to internal competition over power and jurisdiction. While not entirely inaccurate, the reality is far more complex than merely an inter-Orthodox feud. There are geopolitical ramifications beyond the religious intrigue, but the matter transcends any exercise of right or even exhibition of might.
Issues of autocephaly and authority in Ukraine, along with questions over validity of orders and sacraments, are vital to Orthodox unity, but these pale before the isolationism and nationalism plaguing Orthodox Christianity in recent centuries. That is the essential context of the church situation in Ukraine.
Moscow’s recent response to cut communion with Constantinople should also be seen in the same light. Its profoundly demoralizing effect on the wider church—coercing bishops and synods to choose sides—only underlines how a handful of Orthodox hierarchs make decisions without concern for or consultation of the lay community, religious and civil. It would potentially dissipate unity in the diaspora, where churches of all jurisdictions work together on missionary and humanitarian work.
Of course, the Orthodox Church is hardly democratic, even at its most conciliar, instead resembling a mutual interdependence of hierarchy and laity. The early church understood that the power to discern authenticity—what Orthodox liturgy calls “rightly dividing the word of truth”—does not belong to a bishop or synod, but to the church. So when Moscow challenges Constantinople for restoring millions of Ukrainian believers to legitimacy and communion, I wonder how it could brand an entire generation of believers as schismatics in the first place?
The Ecumenical Patriarchate’s decision—issued last April and affirmed this month—to grant the requested autocephaly to the Ukrainian church estranged from Moscow years ago, may be debated in canon law and argued by historical precedent. But escalating threats and sweeping reprisals by Moscow bespeak a deeper rationale than territorial dispute. Russia stands to lose property; but Constantinople hardly stands to gain power. In the long run, for better or for worse, the Orthodox Church will acquire a new member—in eerily similar procedure as many other national churches, including Greece, Bulgaria, and the Czech Lands, were incorporated. How can a national church, only recognized as independent last century, complain that recognition of independent churches in new countries “could directly jeopardize the unity of the Orthodox Church”?
Is unity an illusion?
Orthodox unity is as impenetrable in mystery as inaccessible in actuality. Orthodox congratulate themselves for oneness in doctrine and sacrament. It has long provided a lucrative selling point to outsiders, while persisting as a romantic notion for insiders. Yet, if unity and canonicity are anything but legalistic or pietistic, Orthodox Christians must admit their failure and hypocrisy. It is disingenuous to brandish unity as a defensive banner or offensive weapon when internal problems arise. And it is dangerous to associate Orthodox unity with territorial entitlement, as when Moscow blamed Constantinople for “crossing a red line and catastrophically undermining the unity of global Orthodoxy.” One wonders what unity there was in the first place.
While highly anticipated with hope, unity was revealed an illusion when the Holy and Great Council convened in Crete (June, 2016) under the Ecumenical Patriarch for the first time in a millennium. It became clear then that the Orthodox Church would stubbornly refuse to enter the twenty-first century without resistance, even resentment. This was strikingly encapsulated, for example, when Patriarch Bartholomew drew a line in document drafting sessions, declaring that bishops-in-council could creatively wordsmith about their relationship to other Christian communions, but not classify them as heretics. Incredulous deliberations ensued, with interminable reverberations to this day in conservative circles. The final resolution—skewed to appease Russia, Bulgaria and Georgia, who ultimately abstained—was that the Orthodox Church recognized “the historical name” of other communions that claimed to be churches!
Bartholomew’s conviction—that the virtually divided Orthodox Churches needed to think and act together to proclaim a more convincing contemporary message—encountered the same opposition (and defamation) he now faces with Ukraine’s autocephaly. The council provided the appropriate forum for venting religious concerns and vetting territorial contentions. By not attending, Russia missed a vital opportunity to demonstrate solidarity and leadership. Today, it vigorously petitions and pressures for pan-Orthodox consensus to resolve the dispute. Then, as now, the strategy and action plan were the same: threat of schism and severance of communion.
Councils are how the church should function. Yet, the Great Council was less about decisions made or documents signed and more about the willingness or readiness of the Orthodox Churches to initiate a more transparent conversation with the modern world, rather than remain in the cocoon of their medieval past.
An East-West Divide?
When scandalmongering and paranoia—two years ago about the council in Crete and today about autocephaly in Ukraine—suggests Constantinople is being coerced or controlled by the U.S. State Department, what surfaces is a latent hostility toward the West spearheaded by the Moscow patriarchate. Ideological rhetoric reinforces the sharp distinction between the sacredness of the Church and the sinfulness of the West. A prominent Serb bishop suspects “the West is trying to splinter the Orthodox Church, which is the last mechanism for uniting the peoples of the ex-USSR and the former Yugoslavia.”
It is convenient to dispute territorial boundaries rather than debate issues of social justice. There is security in taking pride on liturgy and spirituality instead of transcending parochialism and prejudice. It is even appealing to claim evangelical affinity with conservative Americans, such as US vice president Mike Pence and evangelical leader Franklin Graham.
In contrast, a culture of openness is fostered by bold initiative. Bartholomew has affirmed ecumenical and ecological conversation on all fronts—against unprecedented criticism—recognizing dialogue as a fundamental response to the Christian vocation. It is this larger, longer-term picture that he sustains from the unique vantage point of world leader of Orthodoxy. And he has an uncanny ability to remain focused on what matters most—keeping the Orthodox Church related and relevant to the twenty-first century.
Orthodox Churches have much to learn about tolerance—toward other faiths, other cultures, other churches, other communities. Bartholomew long assimilated this worldview from the unique history and legacy of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. What entitles him to the privilege of leadership and responsibility of unity is, paradoxically, precisely where his antagonists find fault—the frailty of his remnant church, deprived of national protection—and not some former byzantine idol or idealistic future ideal.
Orthodox Churches will always contest territorial claims. But their hierarchs should display prudence and moderation. Stirring a frenzy of militant mistrust—by speaking of “enemies” outside Mother Russia—is unacceptable. Threatening violent revolution—by fabricating analogies with Nazi Germany—is incendiary.
Any reassurance lies in the recognition that divine grace never abandons the church. Many millions are hoping that church and civic leaders in Russia and Ukraine can embrace the present moment as an opportunity of growth and enrichment for God’s people in a region that has far more to gain from complementarity than conflict, both national and ecclesiastical.
* Archdeacon of the Ecumenical Throne of Constantinople and advisor to Patriarch Bartholomew. He teaches Theology at the Holy Cross Faculty of Boston and coordinates the initiatives of the Ecumenical Patriarchate on the protection of creation. He was director of the Press Office of the Pan-Orthodox Synod of Crete in June 2016. He is the author of numerous publications, while his biography of Patriarch Bartholomew is about to be published in Italian for the Dehonian editions