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Public Orthodoxy
In a moment of unprecedented closings and cancellations, how should
the Orthodox Church and her members faithfully navigate the risks and
complexities of the COVID-19 pandemic? For many Orthodox jurisdictions
and individuals, the pandemic is an opportunity to show a panicked world
the extraordinary steadiness of the Orthodox faith and of those who
uphold it. One of the ways of doing this is by continuing to hold
services as we always do, kissing icons and receiving the Eucharist with
a common spoon as we always do. The recent directive of the Greek
Orthodox Archdiocese asking parishioners to venerate icons by bowing
before them without touching one’s mouth to them (much as we temporarily
refrain from kissing those in the flesh whom we love not only if
they’re ill but if we are, or have reason to be concerned we could be)
has been received by many Orthodox Christians both within the GOA and
outside it as an egregious accommodation to the spirit of fear abroad in
the world. In the blogosphere and elsewhere there is indeed much talk
of how we are people of faith and not of fear.
With regard to the Eucharist itself, the GOA, like other
jurisdictions and local churches here and overseas, has indicated that
there will be no change in how the gifts are distributed to the
faithful. There are various lines of argument put forward in support of
this decision. One is that inasmuch as for Orthodox Christians the bread
and wine in the chalice are the body and blood of Christ, given to us
for the healing of soul and body, it is not possible that disease could
be communicated via the spoon we share. It is sometimes suggested
according to this argument that those who have concerns about someone
with COVID-19 possibly communicating the virus to them or others by
sharing the same spoon with them either do not hold the genuine Orthodox
faith or are weak in their faith. A genuine and faithful Orthodox
Christian at least overcomes all such worldly anxieties by recalling
that illness and death cannot come from Christ, but only healing and
regeneration.
It is true that for Orthodox Christians there is an almost
inexpressibly profound dissonance in the thought that the sacramental
act of the very communion with Christ to which he himself calls us in
the Eucharist—take, eat, this is my body, and drink of it all of you,
this is my blood of the new covenant—could do any of us any harm. I
think this profound dissonance is what many of us, myself included, have
gotten caught on in recent days, leaving us to imagine we must choose
between courageously and faithfully accepting Christ’s call to be united
with him in his body and blood at whatever perceived risk and rejecting
his call out of worldly fear. If that is indeed the choice we must make
today, I side with those who urge that we overcome our fear and, with
faith and love, draw near and receive the one who offers himself to us.
But is this the choice we must make? Every Christian certainly knows
that he or she may someday face a moment in which fidelity to Christ can
be maintained only at risk of losing his or her life. The question is
whether such a stark either-or indeed faces us now with the coronavirus
pandemic. It does not seem, to begin with, true to our understanding of
the Eucharist to say that nothing it comes into contact with could
possibly be or remain a conductor of illness. The Eucharist, after all,
enters into our own bodies, yet it is not always the case that any
communicable disease we have been carrying ceases to be communicable
once the Eucharist has entered into us. This is certainly not a teaching
of the Orthodox Church. One can believe that the air surrounding the
eucharistic gifts could potentially carry pathogens that a communicant
might breathe in to his or her harm. So too the chalice or the spoon
could transmit something beyond the pure healing properties of
Christ. Indeed the Orthodox Church does not hold the belief that the
bread and the wine themselves cease to be bread and wine upon being
changed into Christ’s body and blood. Here it is important to note that
in addition to making an argument purely from faith, those who insist on
the safety under all circumstances of receiving communion in the
Orthodox Church often point out that chemically speaking, bacteria and
viruses are inevitably killed by the alcohol in the chalice. This,
however, is an argument from science, which admits that there is an
empirical question about whether and how long germs may remain in the
chalice, and there is scientific disagreement on this.
In the context of the present pandemic, in which tests have not yet
become widely available and carriers can be asymptomatic for days after
contracting the virus, I can tell myself that there is no way God would
ever allow a pathogen in me to get into the chalice or onto the spoon
and then make its way into the body of anyone else, especially of one of
the elderly people in our parish. But I cannot be sure in telling
myself this and going ahead and receiving communion with my fellow
parishioners that I am doing the charitable thing. The thought of not
receiving communion in order to play it safe (even if not chiefly for
myself but moreso for others) causes me intense distress; that is also
sure. The Eucharist is where I receive God’s gift of himself to me most
palpably. But in recent days I have come to the conclusion that
Orthodoxy’s false shepherds, of whom, God knows, there are perennially
many, have exploited (often unwittingly, for most are misled themselves
by others and just following a herd mentality) this inner distress which
so many of us cannot but feel at the thought of eschewing communion out
of caution in the face of the pandemic.
A very different pastoral approach has been taken by Archbishop Alexander Golitzin of the OCA’s diocese of the South:
“Everyone in the parish or mission, other than the priest (and deacon),
a reader, a server, and no more than two (2) chanters or singers (all
of whom are physically strong and at low risk for COVID-19), should
remain at home, even at the time of the Divine Liturgy. The holy body
and precious blood of our Lord can never be a source of disease, it is
after all for the healing of soul and body, but the COVID-19 virus can
still be passed through the congregation. Out of love for our neighbor,
we must do everything we can to protect the vulnerable by slowing the
rate of infection not only in our parishes, but in the greater
community, and thereby allowing the hospitals and medical community to
more adequately care for those most at risk.” In this kind of pastoral
leadership, the archbishop takes the burden upon himself – showing a
path that is loving and that reduces the inner distress referenced above
– rather than only further intensifying that distress and thereby
placing a burden virtually impossible to bear on the consciences of the
faithful.
Short of recommending that most stay home, and especially once this
critical moment passes in which limiting the pandemic’s spread depends
on the social isolation widely recommended by epidemiologists, there
would seem to be a commonsensical solution to the otherwise excruciating
dilemma about communion and coronavirus. The Orthodox bishops in the
United States could issue a directive asking that each communicant have
the Eucharist placed in his or her mouth by the priest on a disposable
bamboo spoon that is then discarded properly (i.e., by burning). This
would not diminish the wholeness of Christ whom we receive. It might
only diminish a sense some of us may have when we go ahead and receive
in these anxious times that we have withstood a test of our faith. I
wonder if some of us prefer to have to be faced right now with such a
tremendous test and to show the world that we can pass it rather than
admit with so much less fanfare that we can perhaps actually have it
both ways, and rather mundanely—receiving Christ in the Eucharist and
taking a reasonable and “worldly” precaution. How are we sure it is
not God himself who offers us this gracious solution, which it would
then be an act of highest charity on the part of the bishops to offer to
the faithful, sparing them the torment of having to take a stand and of
finding themselves ever more sharply pitted against one another?
If it were so (and there is no authoritative Orthodox teaching that
has said it is not) then it would also be an act of love toward the
world, a way of being church with humility and in solidarity with those
outside the church whom we wish to make every effort we can, consistent
with our faith, to avoid putting in harm’s way. Others are sacrificing
tremendously to try not to let this disease spread farther and faster
than it must. Should we not also do our dutiful part for everyone’s
sake? We ourselves know our church buildings are not immune to the
pathogens and we accept the advice to wipe surfaces and cough into our
sleeves, because we know we are human like others. We do this even in
the knowledge that God can perform miracles to protect anyone he wishes
anytime he wills, because we do not presume upon him to miraculously
preserve us when there are mundane things we can do so as not to put him
to the test. Using disposable bamboo spoons would seem to be another
such mundane thing we could do in humble recognition of our frail
humanity, to lower the temperature and tension in our churches, and to
exercise wisdom in responding to a public health crisis we should not
presume to be certain we could never exacerbate by our spiritual pride.
Will Cohen is Associate Professor of Theology & Religious Studies at the University of Scranton.
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.
