KEYNOTE ADDRESS OF ARCHBISHOP ELPIDOPHOROS AT THE MONASTIC ASSEMBLY (ST. NEKTARIOS MONASTERY, SEPTEMBER 21–22, 2019)
September 21–22, 2019)
MONASTIC SYNAXIS
Keynote Address
By His Eminence Archbishop Elpidophoros
(St. Nektarios Monastery, September 21–22, 2019)
Very reverend abbots and abbesses of the precious monasteries of our Church,
It is my privilege and pleasure to welcome all of you to
this historical and national synaxis of monastic members of our
communities and convents within the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of
America.
This is truly a momentous and extraordinary occasion because we are
able to listen to and learn from one another as spiritual fathers and
mothers commissioned by God with the spiritual direction and pastoral
protection of the souls of those entrusted to our care. It is the first
time that, along with the members of the Eparchial Synod, your
Archbishop is able to meet and deliberate with the heads of monasteries
and convents of our Holy Archdiocese in order to define the role of
monasticism in the broader society as well as to determine the
responsibility of our monasteries within our communities.
Introduction: The power of community
It may come as a surprise to you that your Archbishop would wish to
gather you together, but this meeting was among the foremost in my heart
since my election to this blessed Archdiocese and Eparchy of the
Ecumenical Patriarchate. And I say this for two reasons:
First, because as the spiritual father of our faithful throughout
this beautiful land, where we are called to preach and plant the good
news of the Gospel and the treasures of our Tradition, I feel that it is
crucial for all of us to serve as brothers and sisters, as inseparable
and invaluable members of the one and united Body of Christ. We are
called and are obliged to work together for the glory of God and the
care of His people. We cannot accept or afford to work in isolation,
still less of course in opposition to one another when it comes to the
service and salvation of our brothers and sisters.
However, there is a second reason that compelled me to
invite you from your cells and communities in order to attend this
meeting. This is because I share with you the love of dwelling within a
brotherhood that teaches us silence and prayer, obedience and humility,
as well as compassion and love. This is how we understand the words of
the Psalmist David:
Behold, how beautiful and pleasant it is when brothers [and, we could
add: sisters] dwell in unity! It is like the precious oil upon the
head, running down upon the beard, upon the beard of Aaron, running down
on the collar of his robes! It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls
on the mountains of Zion! For there the Lord has commanded the blessing,
life for evermore (133:1–3).
Indeed, there been no greater and no more graceful experience for me
that my time in “the Great Monastery” as the Phanar is often described,
where I was able to learn and to love the order of the services, the
discipline of obedience, and the power of sacrificial love under the
paternal guidance and gentle support of His All-Holiness Ecumenical
Patriarch Bartholomew, who initiated me – along with the other members
of the patriarchal court – into the mystery of the church and the
majesty of service in the Body of Christ. It was there that I was
instructed in the fine balance between worldly power and divine love,
which should always inspire and inform our ministry as leaders whether
in church administration, in parish congregations, or in monastic
communities.
Moreover, for a period of eight years, I came to know
monasticism more intimately and intensely through my tenure as Abbot of
the historical Monastery of the Holy Trinity at Halki, which also houses
the legendary Theological School that regrettably was forced to close
its doors to seminarians in 1972. There, modeled on the image and
example of communion in the Holy Trinity as reflected in the hospitality
of Abraham (in Genesis chapter 18), I was blessed to develop and
nurture a modest brotherhood – like a mustard seed (Matt. 13:31–32) and a
small leaven (Matt. 13:33) – that invisibly and unassumingly multiplied
the ministries of the Ecumenical Patriarchate through daily services,
unceasing hospitality, and ongoing increase of spiritual, cultural and
educational programs.
Thus, in light of my personal experience – but also in
light of your ministry – of the power of community, I would like to
highlight three dimensions of the monastic life as it shapes the way we
touch the lives of our people:
- The monastery as a place of silence and prayer;
- The monastery as a place of obedience and humility; and,
- The monastery as a model of the angelical life, but especially the evangelical life.
1. A place of silence and prayer:
My dearest sisters and brothers, I appreciate very
profoundly and very personally the vital role that monasteries play in
the life of the church. Monasticism constituted a decisive and formative
element of religious life throughout history as well as in all Orthodox
countries. To penetrate the heart and essence of Orthodox spirituality,
you simply have to visit a monastery – whether a renowned republic like
Mount Athos or the tiniest skete in the desert. You can learn about the
Orthodox Church in books, but you can encounter its full glory by
visiting a monastery.
It is no coincidence that monasticism emerged immediately after St.
Constantine’s conversion, when the persecution of martyrs ceased and
Christianity became compromised with the ways of the world. With their
ascetic rigor, monks and nuns became the new martyrs of the spirit in an
age when martyrdom of blood no longer existed; they were the new
prophets that – by withdrawing from society and pointing to the kingdom –
reminded Christians that we are “in the world” but “not of the world”
(John 17).
Whether we are speaking of St. Anthony and St. Pachomios of Egypt in
the fourth century or St. Paisios of Athos and St. Iakovos of Evia in
the twentieth century; whether in the sixth-century imperial monastery
of St. Catherine on Mt. Sinai or the stavropegial monasteries of Mt.
Athos, established in Greece from the tenth-century; whether living in
tombs or on pillars; whether they took care of the poor and the sick or
copied manuscripts and painted icons; whether “they wandered in deserts
and mountains or hid in caves and holes, the world was truly not worthy
of them” (Heb. 11:38). There has been an uninterrupted history of
monastic presence and influence from the very origins of the Christian
Church.
What is clear throughout the story of Orthodoxy is that the primary
task of a monk and a nun is the life of prayer, and it is through prayer
that they serve others. It is not so much what monks and nuns do that
matters, as what they are. And when pilgrims enter an Orthodox monastery
or convent, what they hope to find is a place of silence and men or
women of prayer. Spiritual wisdom is certainly one of the important
contributions of an Orthodox monastery, but spiritual silence also
transcends all words of advice. It is the power of prayer and liturgy
that proves to be the most healing force when pious visitors come to one
of our monasteries. It is the commitment of our monks and nuns that
will bring about the conversion of people’s hearts. The powerful cycle
of daily services and intense practice of the Jesus Prayer; the quiet
emphasis on fasting along with the repetitive focus on διακόνημα and
διακονία or work and hospitality; these – above and beyond any
individual words of advice – are ultimately the precious gifts of
Orthodox monasticism to the contemporary world and what the faithful
expect from those who have renounced the world and surrendered to a life
of silence.
Therefore, my first paternal reminder to you is that your monastery
should be primarily and predominantly be a place of refuge and
refreshment for the weary and worried souls of our pious faithful.
Before any word of advice or instruction, and beyond any word of
correction or admonishment, your prayer and compassion should be their
greatest protection and consolation.
2. A place of obedience and humility:
There is no need for me to underline or explain the
importance of obedience in the monastic life. For both the novice but
also for the mature monk and nun, the virtue of obedience – of dying to
the world in order to rise in Christ (Gal. 6:12–15), like a seed that is
planted in the ground in order to bear much fruit (John 12:24) – is the
quintessential element of the ascetic discipline and repentance. For
St. John Climacus, who devoted an entire step to obedience in his Ladder of Divine Ascent, “ὑπακοή is the mother of all virtues.”
Moreover, obedience goes hand-in-hand with spiritual
direction by the elder or abbot, a teacher or trainer, who resembles
another Moses leading the monk or nun into the promised land of
forgiveness. As we have been taught by tradition, no one is saved alone;
all of us need another person – “a skilled person or physician,” as the
same St. John of Sinai writes – who through confession and instruction
can lead us through the pitfalls of temptation.
All of you are well aware of the role of the spiritual
father in the monastic as well as in the parish community. However, what
I would like to draw to your attention are the temptations of spiritual
direction or and dangers of confession that we frequently face in our
responsibility as spiritual guides, whether bishops or abbots. Far too
often, we presume that we are on a different level from those who
approach us for forgiveness or counsel. This is arguably the most
arrogant assumption that we could ever imagine. For while “we who are
strong ought to bear the failures of the weak” (Rom. 15:1) and to “bear
one another’s burdens” (Gal. 6:2), obedience can never be blind or
directed toward a human being, but always transparent to God’s love and
aimed at the disciple’s freedom. It is not the external prescriptions of
asceticism that matter, but above all the internal disposition of the
Christian called to humility and purity of heart.
As I mentioned earlier, your principal support to
pilgrims should be contemplation and compassion. If, however, you are
asked to provide a word of direction or guidance, then your advice
should always be a source of encouragement and inspiration. At no point
should we ever block the light of Christ; instead, we should always
remember that Christ is the one who illumines and forgives. Just like
those who approach us with obedience and humility, we too are to
demonstrate obedience and humility. In the church, obedience is a circle
where each one of us is called to obey our elders: laity to clergy,
clergy to bishops, and bishops to their elders.
Dear friends, our faithful may see us as spiritual elders and
leaders, but we should constantly confess that we are the worst of
sinners. As we profess before Holy Communion at every Divine Liturgy, my
humble exhortation to you is that we all recall the words of St. Paul
to his disciple Timothy:
The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus
came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost (1 Tim.
1:15).
3. An angelical, but especially an evangelical life:
This leads me to my final point. If our aim is “to
proclaim Christ, warning everyone and teaching everyone in all wisdom,
so that we may present everyone mature in Christ” (Col. 1:28), then we
must at all times remember that the monastic life is – as St. Basil of
Caesarea declares – “the way of life according to the Gospel” (τό κατά
τό εὐαγγέλιον πολίτευμα). This means that, as celibates – whether
ordained or monastics – we do not lead lives that are either better or
superior to other Christians. In the words of St. Gregory the
Theologian, “if virginity is honored, it does not follow that marriage
is dishonored.”
Although monastics often take pride in and promote the fact that the celibate life is the angelicallife, it is helpful to remember that monasticism is above all the evangelicallife.
Like all baptized Christians, we are called to “bear the cross and
follow Christ” (Luke 14:27). We have exactly the same vocation as all
Christians, but we simply live His commandments in a different way,
learning to love as a community instead of within a marriage or family.
The ultimate purpose of all Christians is to learn to
love, to reflect God’s selfless and sacrificial love for the world.
Human beings are made to love; and, as Christ informed and warned us in
the parable of the Last Judgment, the only criterion for salvation will
be the measure of our love toward others. We will not be judge on
whether we have fasted or how long we have prayed, but on the way we
have responded to the material and spiritual needs of our brothers and
sisters. Just as there is a fundamental dimension of asceticism in
marriage, there is also an essential element of love in monasticism.
Love “is the great mystery” (Eph. 5:32) of the church and of community,
of monasticism and marriage. If we neglect to express and communicate
love to our neighbor, then we fail to fulfill the commandments and fail
to respond to the call of Christ to “love the Lord our God with all our
heart, and all our soul, and all our strength, and all our mind, as well
as our neighbor as ourselves” (Matt. 22:37).
Conclusion: We are all members of one another
Your Eminences, very reverend abbots and abbesses, if there is one
message that I hope you will take with you back to your blessed
communities, it is that we are all called to work together in the
spiritual edification of our faithful. This is what it means to belong
to the communion of saints and to serve the Body of Christ. This is what
it means to be a church. Therefore, let me conclude with the words of
St. Paul in 1 Corinthians:
Just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of
the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one
Spirit we were all baptized into one body . . . and all were made to
drink of one Spirit. For the body does not consist of one member but of
many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong
to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if
the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the
body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. But God
arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose . . .
God has so composed the body . . . that there may be no division in the
body, but that the members may have the same care for one another
(12:12–25).
May God inspire our deliberations at this synaxis, and
may He always bless you and your monastic communities in your vital
ministry for our Archdiocese.