ECUMENICAL PATRIARCHATE

Exarchate of Parishes of Russian
Tradition in Western Europe

Renewal in the Church: in Fidelity to Tradition and the Holy Spirit

Metropolitan Georges Khodre of Mount Lebanon, presented by Amal Dibo

Renewal demands commitment of our whole being. As Christians, our commitment stems from a soul that has been wounded by the love of Christ. Without the incandescent fire of this love, the Word cannot become an active reality. It is by our perception of this fire in the messenger who carries it, that it becomes light in us, and allows us to perceive eternity in our own time, here and now. Often, the source of fire is a person, while in groups a common or shared way of understanding – a hidden affinity – bonds the members together and keeps the fire alive and burning among them.

It is Christ Himself, in this close experience with Him, who initiates new ways of speaking that witness to genuine and profound spiritual experience. The language that expresses such an experience is a ‘founding’ language for a renewed life. Because of the ‘living’ experience, this renewed expression is more faithful to Christ than the texts reproduced by the traditionalists, who think that they are more faithful if they keep repeating the sentences of the ecclesiastical books. Yet, because the diversity of language implies diversity of positions, those who carry renewal are always accused of heresy. For the conservatives, the truth dwells in the old words; but the danger in repeating old words is they can become empty and dead. Father Georges Florovsky, who was a great patrologist of our times, has warned us against the simple repetition of the words of the Fathers. 

What we need to do is to contemplate their thoughts, place ourselves within the movement of their spirit, interiorise it in our souls and then express it in a language that can be understood by our contemporaries. For what is language in the Church other than the transmission of the Eternal Word of God into the hearts of those who live with us, here and now, and with whom we share the same sensibilities?

Opposition to those who carry renewal comes often from Church circles and especially from the hierarchy, where power is often founded on popular belief and para-liturgical practices. As protectors and defenders of the faith they are afraid of renewal. They are very often sincere, because they confuse what is old with the revealed truth. At another level, we find in many Orthodox milieus a categorical refusal, almost a visceral one, of the Biblical notion of the holy nation and the royal priesthood of all the people. We should remember, however, that the royal priesthood does not contradict the ministerial priesthood: this latter is fulfilled in Eucharistic communion. The holy people of God become the Body of Christ when they take part in the Eucharist and are united in it. It is while celebrating with the bishop, who dispenses the Word of God, and approaching the Eucharistic cup to achieve the nuptial union between Christ and His people, that the people become a Holy Nation. The members of the ministerial priesthood are also members of the royal priesthood: a priesthood that is given to the whole people of God.

It is important to note that the Book of Revelation, addressing the bishops of the seven churches of Asia, calls them the ‘Angels of Asia’, and says: ‘He who has an ear let him hear what the Spirit says to the Churches’ (Rev 2:29 and others). Hence, the bishop fulfils his ministry within Eucharistic Communion because we all submit together to the Holy Spirit. In our efforts for renewal at the Antiochian Patriarchate we were asked: ‘Who gave you the power to speak?’  We answered: ‘It is in the baptismal font that our right to speak is founded.’

If the bishop, or his representative the priest, has the right to speak the true word decisively, as he is commanded to do by Scripture (and this is also the essence of his mission in teaching and pastoral duties), it is nevertheless the case that he does not hold the monopoly of this word. For truth belongs to all, and revelation is given in answer to love. As the liturgical text expresses it: ‘Let us love one another, so with one mind we may confess the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.’ It is obvious that certain hearts and spirits perceive the truth more than others. But the Church has the power of discernment and retains what is in conformity with Tradition – those things that have been asserted always and everywhere, and of which the Scripture says: ‘The faith that was delivered once and for all to the saints’ (Jude1:3).

I am convinced that there are renewal movements that are tempted to substitute their own word for the ‘faith transmitted once and for all to the saints.’ Here, it is up to the bishop, in piety and purity, to make a judgment. We can argue in piety and humility about his judgment. Chaos is possible. But it is the Holy Spirit who guides all the community towards the revealed truth. The ecclesial consensus, ‘sobornost’ as Alexei Khomiakoff calls it, is decisive, because the word of truth is given to the ecclesial body as a whole. 

Now, Tradition is not repetition, nor is it tautology.  It is the fidelity of the Holy Spirit to Himself. It is the continuous work of the Spirit, for it is He who gives us the gift of discerning His presence, of distinguishing Tradition from the traditions elaborated by human beings and those specific to local Churches - traditions which have not been sanctioned by the Universal Church. The breath of the Holy Spirit transcends judgments that are purely rational or legal.
In this perspective, the Spirit does not bless whatever pretends to be a renewal. But the church has always been moved by various movements based on piety, and one of these was monasticism. Saint Anthony consulted no one when he went into the desert. The monks of Palestine and Northern Syria did not ask for anyone’s blessing to go forth. And it was after learning from witnesses about St Anthony that Patriarch Athanasius of Alexandria went to meet him and later wrote about his life, formally acknowledging his way of thinking and living. Here was a patriarch who developed his thought according to that of a simple monk.

There have also been sects that pretended to have received charisms, and the church has refused to recognise holiness in them. These sects have condemned themselves because their deviations were perceived by the whole community, and more particularly so by the bishops. But the fact that such errors can happen should not prevent us from having the courage to proclaim the Gospel here and now. I understand the need for prudence, for excessive language can shock the weak. But prudence should be accompanied by zeal, for it is written: ‘Zeal for your house has consumed me’ (Ps 69:9).

There is certainly an adequate way to express our renewed vision so that it can be accepted. This demands, on one hand, fidelity to the Holy Spirit obtained through prayer, serious knowledge of the Scriptures and constant participation in the Liturgy. On the other hand it also demands a depth of compassion and empathy that can feel the needs of the present day and perceive their reality. Thus rooted in the Tradition of the Holy Spirit, we can become efficiently alert to the needs of our community and can lead its growth into a renewed experience of a loving faith.

The reality of renewal and the foundation of freedom – for the faithful as well as for the priests – are established on these words of the Apostle:  ‘For as in one body we have many members, and all members do not have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the Grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; he who teaches, in his teaching; he who exhorts, in his exhortation; he who contributes, in his liberality; he who gives aid, with zeal; he who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness’ (Rom 12:5-8).

Movements of renewal that are true, strong and full of enthusiasm for the orthodoxy of faith are indeed a prophetic presence, in that they are a living witness to the eternal truth amidst the reality of the local church – be it a parish, a diocese or an autocephalous Church. This is a statement very dear to my heart. I am referring here to the propagation of the divine message. Prophesying did not stop with the New Testament:  St Paul refers to this fact in many epistles. Further, he consecrates the freedom of the children of God, as well as the direct link between the Holy Spirit and the faithful, without confining it to the episcopal function.

Structuring the ministerial priesthood has not put an end to charisms. It happened that many charisms were gathered in a few eminent bishops (St Basil the Great is an example), but if we take the Fathers of the Church individually, we can see that the gifts of each were different. It is also true that throughout the history of the Church we have seen among the laity some who have received charisms of such fire that it allowed them to wake up thousands of phlegmatic Christians. It is through a number of apostles – be they ordained or not – that the Holy Spirit uplifts  the masses of the faithful and reveals to them the divine beauty.  It is through love, through giving oneself, through knowing the Scriptures and partaking in the sacraments, that Christians of good will may see in wisdom that the Lord has – already, before the end of time – made of his Church a beautiful, pure and faithful bride. It is the quest for faithfulness with no defect that justifies the movements of renewal.
Movements of renewal do not all necessarily act in the same realm, but they all acknowledge that the Church is the head – in other words they undertake  different services in different domains of the life of the Church.

For instance, at the beginning of the 1940s in Palestine there were independent groups committed to praying and charitable works, whereas we in Antioch formed a movement that was committed to reading the Scriptures and partaking in the Eucharist. Yet all of us shared the same convictions about the truth as it is taught in the Orthodox Church.  While our search brought us into contact with the teachings of the active Churches in the area – in particular the Latin Church and the Evangelical Protestant Church – and while some of us may have been tempted to follow these teachings, this same search, with its committed efforts, brought us to discover that Orthodoxy was complete in its fundamental positions, and that there was no need to go the other Churches in search of anything fundamental. Our total adherence to the principle of ecumenism enabled Churches and their faithful to know more about each other and value their diversity of missions; and it taught the big Churches to abandon proselytism. At the same time this openness did not contradict  our duty to receive into Orthodoxy those who are convinced and who believe that Orthodoxy is the way that leads to Life and to the whole truth as it was revealed by Christ.
It is legitimate that each movement of renewal should elaborate its own ecumenical style in accordance with the communities that exist around it.  

Each community has its mission, and nothing should prevent us from listening to them to enrich our vision, and – in all faithfulness to Orthodoxy, its richness and beauty – to  get rid of what Father Alexander Schmemann called the ‘ burden’ of history. 
Here we come to the relationship between the Church and the culture of the nation where it lives. The national culture can support the Church. Likewise it can take it hostage into its custody, or even worse, can merge in confusion with it, and this is dangerous. We should keep in mind that every culture, no matter how close it is to Christ, will still carry within it elements of its own fallenness. Countries are the product of history and they carry the weight of that history. Our faithfulness to our countries should express itself in a love that will protect them from the fall which constantly threatens them. Culture is also part of history, part of this world in which all is ephemeral. Only the Face of the Father, whose light reveals the Face of the Man Jesus, will remain. And likewise the Church – inasmuch as it does not entirely belong to history – can be said to inaugurate the Kingdom of God.

This is why we are constantly concerned about the purity of the Church and of all its members. It is why we are constantly looking forward to its eternal youth and renewal, even if we are rejected and shut out by those who are more conservative. It is in these difficult moments in life that we are to remember that we are in the world but not of  this world; and that just as  we are constantly moving towards Christ, He himself is also coming to us.
In order to live this whole truth, it is necessary to let oneself be fully immersed in the breath of the Holy Spirit, and to lean very strongly on the two pillars that uphold the Church: Scripture and the Liturgy.

Unfortunately, many Orthodox ignore the Bible, and we have no excuse whatsoever for that. What is read in our liturgies and various services gives us only a partial knowledge. On Sundays the same designated texts keep coming back; during weekday liturgies additional texts are rarely read in the parishes; during Lent and at Vespers few passages of the Old Testament are read.  What is read officially is not enough to keep us going. And even this can be lost when, as happens in most churches, these texts are read in the old languages. It would not be wrong to say that until the end of the first millennium, the Bible was a closed book for the Orthodox.

Of course it is true that, besides the texts assigned from the Scriptures, the Liturgy contains a good number of references to the Scriptures. We could even say that on the whole the liturgy is Scripture, written and interpreted in such a way that the people can understand it. But again this presents the same difficulties to our understanding as the old texts, because it is a combination of references from the Scriptures, and unless it is explained it does not say more than the texts of the Scriptures say.

So there is a great need to interpret the Scriptures. When theology professors help us to do this they use Bible criticism.  Orthodoxy is moderately in favour of this. It is taught in all our universities, and it is important that we should be aware of the developments of these methods.  We should read texts of exegesis written by Christians from all denominations. The great theologians are our masters in the understanding of the Bible, and we should turn to them to deepen our understanding. And yet even as we do this we must be aware of a danger: that we may allow the words of the theologians to replace our direct contact with the word of God.

Nothing can replace the Living Word of God that is held between the Book of Genesis and the Book of Revelation, for indeed the Lord has spoken through his prophets and in his Son.  The Fathers understood this, and we can look to their writings, not to replace, but to illumine, the Word of God.  Their only aim was to interpret, or make an exegesis of, the biblical text. Their faithfulness to Scripture was such that, while writing of the Nicene Creed those who opposed the ‘homoousios’ (consubstantiality) objected that this word does not come from the Scriptures. Their homilies were based on the Epistles and the Gospels, and we can look deeply into these texts. But again we must remember that even these are not enough to build a rounded and complete scriptural understanding. No word that comes from any person, no matter how spiritually gifted this person may be, can nourish the soul in the same way as the Words that God Himself has pronounced.

The liturgical texts  are also  reference books for our vision of God. It has been our experience that some parishes have developed an intimate knowledge of the divine mysteries, celebrating Matins and Vespers  regularly, becoming familiar with the sources and thought of the Fathers,  and growing in their faith accordingly. Although not all of the liturgical books have the same spiritual depth, many of them reveal the divine beauty to us. We need to know them, and for this they should be recited in the language of the community, so that the faithful can give their undivided attention to the readings and chants and thus develop the common feeling and understanding that will bind them together.

As for any concern for renewal in the Liturgy, there is room for a certain kind of freedom, but any fundamental reform is strictly the prerogative of the Patriarch or of the Autocephalous Church, while the Liturgy in particular is the responsibility of the Synod. It is still possible to propose reforms to the higher authorities, who may vary in their response to these proposals – some are more open than others. However, the Orthodox prefer to keep the same Liturgy across the globe. Despite minor variations in the Liturgy between the Churches of Greek-Arabic tradition and the Slavonic Churches, the structure remains the same. It is good to remember that this was not the case in the first centuries; yet a fundamental reform is neither possible nor welcome. The most urgent and necessary action is to elucidate and clarify what most of the faithful cannot understand in these texts, which have been written in difficult dogmatic terms and composition according to the vocabulary and style of the Ecumenical councils – the Council of Nicea in particular.

We should remember that the Liturgy is not solely the work of the experts, but is also the fruit of the whole community which, in prayer, receives the text, understands it and lives it. The question here is: how to accomplish the transmission of the true message to the modern person today, when we know that most of the educational values in which this person has been raised are post-Christian.

There is no doubt that the search for the answer should be framed within the immense quasi-miraculous Byzantine ‘architecture’ of liturgy. Yet it is of such beauty that it can sometimes veil the face of the Lord whom it serves, and that in itself scares me. Often we hear people asking: ‘How was the Liturgy?’ And the answer that it was beautiful often refers to the aesthetics of the chant, which is meant to reveal the beauty of the Face of the Lord.  We need to be extremely vigilant, to go beyond the words, beyond the music and the gestures performed, and keep our eyes on the main aim of the celebration, which is the personal and deep encounter with Jesus. I use the name of Jesus to designate more particularly the characteristics of the Jesus of the Gospels: the miracle-doer as in Matthew, the loving Christ as in John, the Lord of glory as in Paul. In fact the Liturgy does not always lead automatically to the beloved face of the Lord, the Friend and the Brother.

I deeply believe that what is most important in the encounter with Christ is to reach and achieve the mystical link of love with Him. This subject has been most deeply studied by St Symeon the New Theologian. Despite my strong insistence on reading and studying the Word of God, I would also like to insist that the Christian faith does not come only from the book, for what we experience with the Lord is the dialogue of the Song of Songs. It is a nuptial mystery, and he who has not experienced it sees nothing of the Beauty of God.  To underline this let us consider the extremely enlightening dialogue between Jesus and Mary the sister of Lazarus after his death. She said:  ‘Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died. And even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.’  And Jesus said to her: ‘Your brother will rise again’.  Martha said to Him: ‘I know that he will rise again in the resurrection, at the last day.’  Jesus said to her: ‘I am the Resurrection and the Life.’   The Lord diverts the attention of Martha, who was focused on the general ultimate Resurrection at the end of time, and brings her to see that the Resurrection is in Him, in his own person. And He adds  ‘He who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live; and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die’ (Jn 11:21-26).

We have no clearer affirmation of the Life that Christ holds in Himself. This accords with the affirmation in the first Epistle of St John: ‘God is love’ (1 Jn 4:8,16). This to my mind is not one of the characteristics of God: it is rather his very essence. This is not to say that there are no other attributes of God, but rather that all the dogmas – the Trinity,  the Eucharist, or any other symbol in the Church – are nothing but expressions of this affirmation. It is because love is alive in us that God has used this language and addressed us with his Word that has no other mission but to awaken His Love in us. In order to safeguard our experience of God from being simply an emotional experience, we need to submit to the Word of God in Scripture and keep it in our hearts. It is the Word of God that will lead us into mystical experience, and it is in love that with God we can operate our salvation and preach the Good News. It is impossible for us to witness if we are not taken in this love and between its two arms, namely Scripture and the Liturgy and all their expressions in the Church – the construction of churches, the ministerial priesthood, icons, and the lives of the saints. All of this constitutes one and the same unity in the mystery of our union with the Father, in the Son, and in the Holy Spirit.

The plenitude of Orthodoxy is to live fully at the meeting place – the confluence – of the Scriptures and the Liturgy. Our community will thus become a preaching community, bearing witness here and now, in the renewed terms that the Spirit will inspire us to find. If we look at the Assyrians’ attempt to convert China; the Russian mission inside the Empire, in Asia and Japan; or the Greek mission in today’s Africa, we see that, on the whole, the preaching of the Gospels by the Orthodox appears to be weak. In countries where the oppression of other religions weighs heavily, we may see that the way to propagate the Gospels is obstructed; but in countries where there is no such oppression the way is open and we need to look at this issue more seriously. Internal mission remains an obligation in the western countries, which  became  de-christianised  a long time ago.

I will not dwell long on the new approach in the theology of religions in which discussion focuses on the value or the reality of certain revelations that exist in the non-Christian religions. My first reaction to this approach is that it has no place within the faith in the one, unique Saviour. There is only one ‘economy’ of salvation for us, that which has been undertaken by the Lord crucified and resurrected; and this revelation is a universal revelation. Undertaking a comparative theology of religions does not mean that the Christian religion is one among others. Of course we can gain a great deal by studying the great religions, but for our part we know the Alpha and Omega of our salvation. I am not implying that we should not study other religions in a purely academic way. Studying them seriously could bring us to perceive aspects of Christ that were previously hidden from us. But this should by no means dilute our Christian identity.

On a different level, but within the same concern, it is very important to find new ways to prepare the young for the liturgy – ways that will enable them to share the Eucharist fully and in complete unity with adults. It is up to each Orthodox group to study its own pedagogical tools. This constitutes an important facet of our internal mission and is imperative.

The access to faith of the pagans of Europe has developed the quality and the depth of native Christians. But we should not attempt to add elements from the world to the Christian identity, for they can be – as stated by the Lebanese writer Amine Maalouf  in his book On Identity – fatal. Our identity is created by the chalice of the Lord, and all that we acquire by blood ties and culture disappears. The one who can evangelise is one who is filled solely by Christ. On Golgotha, all that had been acquired from humanity was crucified. If, inside the Church, we develop the conviction that we are one Christian nation, we could then develop the necessary dynamism that allows us to conduct a very strong external mission.
But the church is not confined inside its walls. St John Chrysostom sees that the altar of the poor is more important than the table of the Eucharist. His idea is that the two altars are one, or that the altar of the church leads necessarily to the other, because the poor are the most precious members of the Body of Christ.  St John the Merciful, Patriarch of Alexandria, said that the poor are our lords. This must be practised in real life.  The Fathers of the Church – St Basil the Great, St John Chrysostom and St Augustine in particular – said that what we possess is not our own, that we are simply the managers,  for every property is God’s own and should therefore go to those He loves most: the deprived. Thus we are momentarily the holders of the money which should go to those who need it most.

The point is not to wait for the Sunday collection to share symbolically with the poor. It is rather, in the first place, to understand that the money that we have been entrusted with has been given to us in order to manage it. It becomes clear then that the community, united in sharing the same bread, is there to share with, and serve, the human community at large, more specifically the ‘humiliated and the offended’.  This is the social dimension of the Eucharist. The rich are condemned if they do not learn to share. This thought of the Fathers goes beyond all political and social philosophies, because it springs from a transfigured heart.
Although the concept of management that governs the charitable actions inside the Church is the same as in social action, it has no political connotation as is the case in solidarity organised by the State.

The Christian who gives must realise that charity is only one part of the Liturgy and that social commitment is to be seen as ‘a Liturgy celebrated on the whole world’, for the Church insists on brotherly internal aid as the expression of love. Charitable activities are an integral part of our life in the Church. You remember the mission of St Paul, given to him by the Apostles, when they commanded him to remember the poor in Jerusalem who were called ‘the saints’.  St Paul excelled in implementing this aspect of his mission to Christians of Jerusalem:  ‘And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers’ (Acts 2:42). We should read the word ‘communion’ in this instance as that which is common to all. This meaning is clearer in the following ‘and all who believed were together and had all things in common; and they sold their possessions and goods and distributed them to all, as they needed and day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they partook of food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and finding favour with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved’ (Acts 2:44-47).

Internal aid is not confined to the Sunday collection; it takes us further, to share all that we possess. And those who need it most particularly are the sick, the handicapped, and the widows whom St. Paul mentions very often. People in pain are the privileged friends of Christ, and if they cannot join us in church, the Church should go to them with the sacraments and the words of comfort that the Holy Spirit inspires. Those people have a particular intimate relation to the sufferings of Christ.

This concern should not come only from the priests and the deacons but from the whole community of the faithful, in obedience to the words of Christ: ‘I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink’ (Mt 25:35, 36). It is absolutely  necessary that the laity fulfils this mission also , for every believer ought to realise that he or she is an integral part of the Church, of the royal priesthood.

As for activities within the Church, they are always the achievement of a group, of which every person is unique and irreplaceable. Let me remind you that every person is an act of love; and thus the community is composed of persons who love and are loved in the unique love that Christ has for us. The energy of the local church comes from those of its members who have reached the quality of being  ‘persons’ in the way I just desribed, which is in fact another way of describing holiness. In the Old Testament, holiness designated those who belonged to God, and according to the Apostle Paul this meant membership in a local church through baptism and the partaking of the same bread. The divine strength that we radiate must be supported by a knowledge of the divine mysteries, and our experiential knowledge of the Trinity. This knowledge is not a conceptual understanding of this mystery that bears witness to it, but the overwhelming fire in us that communicates our belief. I am referring here to the first epistle of St John (1:1 and 2): ‘that which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us’.

All this life is in you beloved sisters and brothers in Christ, and this life should become abundant. You have been promised the Holy Spirit, and you will receive Him abundantly. Welcome the diversities of charism, thanking the Lord for each particular one in the spirit of unity which will be your treasure. You will be tempted by the  ‘parochial’ spirit, but fear nothing; for it is by bonding totally in love and being attentive to the culture of your country that you will be recognized by God to be ‘new creatures ’ living in the Gospels of our Lord.