The History of the Orthodox
Church
Aristeides Papadakis, Ph.D.
History Rev.
Thomas Fitzgerald
*articles by
Father Thomas Fitzgerald used with permission of author
History
of the Orthodox Church
Aristeides Papadakis, Ph.D.
University of Maryland, Baltimore
"The true orthodox way of thought has always been historical, has
always included the past, but has never been enslaved by it. . . [for]
the strength of the Church is not in the past, present, or future, but
in Christ."
-Fr. Alexander Schmemann
Introduction.
Christianity has always been unusually sensitive to the past. Its
enduring relevance has, in fact, never been in doubt. The basic reason
for this pronounced sensitivity is that Christian biblical revelation
takes place in a historical context and is, quite simply, a revelation
of historical data, of God's activity in history. It is in time (and
therefore in history) that man's salvation unfolds-God's chosen way to
redeem us. That Christian Scripture takes the form, more often than not,
of a richly detailed historical narrative should thus come as no
surprise.
These considerations, taken together, explain the powerful appeal that
history has always had for Orthodox Christianity. Orthodox worship, for
example, is nothing less than a witness to history; it recalls, in all
its rich diversity, particular historical events not only from the
earthly life of the Lord, but from the life of the Church, its saints,
ascetics, martyrs, and theologians. Every liturgy, every feast, is at
once a celebration of time and of the eschatological reality; an
anticipation of the "world to come" of what is beyond
history-as well as a remembrance of a concrete historical past. But
history likewise lies at the root of Orthodoxy's conviction that it is
the true Church of Christ on earth. It is precisely because of its
possession of an uninterrupted historical and theological continuity
that it is able to make this claim at all. The Church, as we should
expect of any historical phenomenon, had changed and developed through
the centuries. True enough. Still, the Church in its essential identity
- in its organic and spiritual continuity - remains substantially
coextensive with the Church of the Apostles. It is, in effect, nothing
less than the living continuation in time and space of the primitive
Church in Jerusalem. It can be viewed as the one Catholic Church in all
its fullness and plenitude.
A. THE INFANT CHURCH
The Apostolic Era.
This being so, our brief survey of the long and complex
evolution of Orthodox Christianity begins with the first Pentecost in
Jerusalem and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on Christ's small circle
of disciples. It is then that the Orthodox Church was born - the second
largest organized body of Christians in the world. The Apostles, it is
true, had been historic witnesses to Christ's messianic ministry and
resurrection before the Spirit of God descended on them. Still, it was
only with this event that they felt authorized to preach the Gospel to
the world. Only then were the uncomprehending fishermen able to fully
understand the mystery of Easter, that God had raised Jesus from the
dead, and had begun their mission. The expansion of the early Christian
movement, however, was not without its problems, nor was it spontaneous.
Persecution and martyrdom awaited virtually all of its initial members.
The aggressive new missionary community, nevertheless, was destined to
survive and grow in numbers. By the third century it had, in fact,
become a "mass phenomenon." Though unevenly scattered, it
constituted possibly as much as ten percent of the total population of
the Roman Empire. As such, it was sufficiently strong to compel the
Roman emperors to end the persecutions. The Church, quite simply, could
no longer be ignored - numerically or ideologically; hence the legal
recognition of Christianity by the Emperor Constantine at the beginning
of the fourth century (312), and its subsequent recognition as the
official religion of the empire by the end, under Theodosius (392).
Persecution and Success.
The causes of this success are understandably complex. The
disciplined close-knit structure of the Church, its social solidarity
and internal cohesion, its care for the poor and the deprived did not go
unnoticed. Both the hostile critic and the ordinary pagan observer were
aware of them. Furthermore, the persecution and martyrdom of Christians
- despite the streak of cruelty in some who observed these punishments -
could not but raise doubts and questions in many an individual
conscience. Nor did Christianity's message of equality before God,
cutting as it did across the social fabric, fail to make its impression
of the stratified urban population of the ancient world. Finally,
Christianity's exclusiveness, the intimate sense of belonging which it
gave its members, as well as its universality attracted new adherents.
Ultimately and at a deeper level, however, it was the saving message of
the Gospel that was the principal cause of Christian expansion. This
message promised not only reconciliation and forgiveness of sin, but
liberation from the bondage of death and corruption. "Christians
were Christians," as one scholar has put it, "only because
Christianity brought to them liberation from death." That is to
say, through Christ's own resurrection man's own incorruptibility, his
own future physical resurrection and deification, was assured. To be in
Christ, as St. Paul says, is to be a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17).
It is to the simple appeal of the primitive message or kerygma that
we must turn for the more probable cause of Christian expansion.
The Impact of Christian Victory.
Whatever the case, those remarkable first four centuries are among the
most creative in the history of the infant Church. The Christian victory
was undeniably revolutionary both for the Roman Empire and the European
civilization that followed. From the Church's own perspective and
internal life the period was even more significant. For it is then that
the Church achieved a certain self-identity, a kind of self awareness
which has since remained normative for Eastern Orthodoxy. Two
illustrations which affected its self understanding - one institutional
and the other doctrinal - will suffice. The Church was initially without
a New Testament. "Scripture" for the primitive Church simply
meant the Old Testament. Gradually however, the Church saw the need to
bring together all the writings of apostolic origin or inspiration into
a canon. This collection of twenty-seven books still constitutes the
total apostolic witness for the Church and is identical with our present
New Testament. In sum, one of the most significant events in the history
of Christianity during this period was its transformation, to borrow
Harnack's phrase, into a religion of two Testaments. These writings, it
is worth pointing out, were received and acknowledged by the Christian
community precisely because they coincided with the Tradition which it
had always possessed since the day of Pentecost, and which was nothing
less than the faithful indwelling of the Spirit in its midst. Strictly
speaking, the Church lived solely by this Tradition decades before the
contents of the New Testament were determined. As a result, Scripture in
Orthodoxy has always been interpreted within the context of Tradition,
for it alone, as the Church's very memory, can disclose its authentic
message.
Early Administrative Structure.
Equally crucial for the life of the Church was the formation
of its administrative structure. We are reasonably certain that St.
Peter, followed by St. James, presided over the Church in Jerusalem. The
ministry of the Apostles, however, was itinerant, not stationary. After
founding a community they would depart for another mission, leaving
behind others to administer the new congregation and preside over the
Eucharist and Baptism. In effect, a local hierarchy developed whose
functions were stationary, administrative, and sacramental, in contrast
with the mobile authority of the Apostles. The presiding officer of each
community, especially at each Sunday eucharistic meal, was the episcopos
or bishop, who was assisted by priests and deacons. At the outset of the
second century, this threefold pattern of bishops, priests, deacons was
already in place in many areas. There was nothing unusual in this
development. As a matter of fact, the Last Supper, as the first liturgy,
could not have taken place without the Lord's presiding presence. From
the beginning, then, the sacramental and eucharistic fellowships of the
Church took for granted the existence of a presiding head. For this same
reason, the establishment of a local "monarchical" episcopate
is still at the very center of Orthodox sacramental life and
ecclesiology.
B. THE BYZANTINE CHURCH
The Formative Age.
If the early fourth century marks the end of the period of persecutions
and the Church's formative age, it also marks the dawn of the medieval
period. With the fourth century, in fact, we are standing on the
threshold of a new civilization - the Christian Empire of medieval
Byzantium. Clearly, Constantine's recognition of Christianity was
decisive. Equally momentous, however, was his decision to transfer the
imperial residence - the center of Roman government - to Constantinople
in 330. The importance of this event in the history of Eastern
Christianity can hardly be exaggerated. For this capital, which was
situated in the old Greek city of Byzantium, soon became the focus of
the new emerging Orthodox civilization. Historical opinion, it is true,
is divided on the question of Byzantium's contribution to civilization.
Still, its lasting legacy lies primarily in the area of religion and
art; it is these which give Byzantine culture its unity and cohesion.
The new cultural synthesis that developed was profoundly Christian,
dominated by the Christian vision of life, rather than the pagan. We
need only turn to Justinian's "Great Church" of the Holy
Wisdom - the Hagia
Sophia in Constantinople - to understand this. But if
Constantinople, the "New Rome," became the setting for this
new civilization, it also became the unrivaled center of Orthodox
Christianity itself. It is during this pivotal period in the Church's
history that the city's bishop assumed the title of "ecumenical
patriarch."
Heresies and Ecumenical Councils.
Space does not permit us to elaborate on this period in detail. It is,
quite simply, the single longest chapter in the history of the Church.
The Byzantine Empire was characterized by a remarkable endurance: it
survived for over a millennium, until its fall to the Ottoman Turks in
1453. We will therefore limit ourselves to an outline of this age, to
the events and developments which exercised the greatest influence on
the Church's life. In this respect, the seven ecumenical councils with
their theological discussions and doctrinal formulations are of
particular importance. Specifically, these assemblies were responsible
for the formulation of Christian doctrine. As such, they constitute a
permanent standard for an Orthodox understanding of the Trinity, the
person of Christ, and the incarnation. The mystery of the divine reality
with which these verbal definitions were concerned was, of course, not
exhausted. All the same, they remain a permanent authoritative standard
against which all subsequent speculative theology is measured. Their
decisions remain binding for the whole Church; non acceptance
constitutes exclusion from the communion of the Church. Hence the
expulsion and separation from the body of the Church of many groups, the
Jacobites, Armenians, Copts, and Nestorians, all of whom refused to
adhere to them. Ultimately acceptance of these councils by the whole
Church is what made these decisions valid and authoritative. By and
large, however, their reception was also due to the great theologians or
Fathers of this age; their literary defense of the councils' theology
was decisive for the Church's victory. As we should expect, the writings
of such Fathers as Saints Basil, Athanasius, Chrysostom, Gregory of
Nazianzus, Cyril, and Gregory of Nyssa, still constitute an
inexhaustible spiritual and theological source for the contemporary
Orthodox Christian.
But the seven ecumenical councils are significant for another reason.
The Church's visible threefold ministerial structure was already a
reality in many churches by the post-apostolic period as we have had
occasion to observe. Each of these local churches, with its own
independent hierarchical structure, was a self governing unit. However,
precise standards governing the relations of these self-contained
churches with each other had not been defined. Still, a certain
"power structure" modeled, in the main, upon the organization
of the Roman Empire did emerge. Thus, even before the fourth century a
provincial system had developed in which churches were grouped in
provinces. In such cases it was customary to give greater honor to the
"metropolitan" or bishop of the capital city (metropolis) of
each province. Similarly, following the importance of certain cities in
the Roman administration, special precedence was accorded the presiding
bishop of the three largest cities in the Empire: Rome, Alexandria, and
Antioch. This development, however, in which a church was ranked
according to its civil importance in the administrative divisions of the
Roman state, had evolved by common consensus, without any ecclesiastical
legislation to support it. This problem was eventually addressed by the
ecumenical councils, which recognized, standardized, and refined this
development. For example, the Fathers of the first ecumenical council
(325), in addition to recognizing the status of the three dioceses of
Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch, also gave honorary precedence to
Jerusalem because of its central importance in the whole stream of
Christian history. With the emergence of Constantinople
as the new capital of the Empire, this patriarchal system was further
modified. Quite simply, the change wrought in the civil administration
by Constantinople's new status could not but affect ecclesiastical
structure. A rearrangement of the existing pattern was obviously
necessary. Thus, at the ecumenical council of 381, Constantinople,
as the "New Rome," was given second place after old Rome,
while Alexandria was assigned third place. This legislation received
further confirmation at the fourth council of Chalcedon (421).
The Pentarchy.
Thus, by the fifth century, a "pentarchy" or system
of five Sees (patriarchates), with a settled order of precedence, had
been established. Rome, as the ancient center and largest city of the
empire, was understandably given the presidency or primacy of honor
within the pentarchy into which Christendom was now divided. Plainly,
this system of patriarchs and metropolitans was exclusively the result
of ecclesiastical legislation; there was nothing inherently divine in
its origin. None of the five sees, in short, possessed their authority
by divine right. Had this been so, Alexandria could not have been
demoted to third rank in order to have Constantinople
exalted to second place. The determining factor was simply their secular
status as the most important cities in the empire. Additionally, each of
the five patriarchs was totally sovereign within his sphere of
jurisdiction. The primacy of Rome, as such, did not entail universal
jurisdictional power over the others. On the contrary, all bishops,
whether patriarchs or not, were equal. No one bishop, however exalted
his see or diocese, could claim supremacy over the others. The bishop of
Rome was simply vested with the presidency, as the senior bishop - the
first among equals.
The Iconclasm Crisis.
In view of the prominent part played by the visual arts in Orthodox
piety and liturgical life, a brief explanation is necessary about
Byzantine iconoclasm and the seventh ecumenical council (787) which
condemned it. It has already been observed that Byzantine religious art
is among the empire's most enduring legacies. An iconoclast victory
would almost certainly have altered the course of Byzantine painting.
Iconoclasm, in general, is usually viewed apart from the christological
debates with which the earlier ecumenical councils were concerned. Be
that as it may, the iconoclastic issue was ultimately christological. To
illustrate this point we need to begin with the fundamental iconoclast
argument of idolatry. How could the divinity of Christ - argued the
iconoclast - be depicted or represented without falling into idolatry?
Plainly put, veneration of the Lord's icon was nothing else than
idolatrous worship of inanimate wood and paint. And that certainly was
expressly forbidden by Scripture to the Christian. This seemingly cogent
argument, however, did not convince the Church or the Fathers of the
seventh council.
An icon, it is true, is made of wood and paint, but it is only a
symbol. Further, it is neither an object of absolute veneration nor of
worship. On the contrary, icons are only relatively venerated, for the
true object of veneration is ultimately the person depicted in the icon,
not the image itself. Moreover, a clear distinction is to be drawn
between veneration (proskynesis), with which the icons should be
honored, and worship (latreia), which belongs to God alone. In
sum, it was altogether unlawful to worship icons, for God alone is
worshipped and adored; they could and should, however, be venerated.
This insistence that icons should be honored brings us to the Church's
second crucial argument - the christological. This argument maintains
that a pictorial representation of the Lord or of the saints is entirely
permissible and, in fact, necessary because of the incarnation. That is
to say, the son of God can be depicted pictorially precisely because he
became visible and describable by taking on our flesh and becoming man.
Any repudiation of the Lord's icon is tantamount to a denial of the
incarnation. Fittingly enough, the defeat of iconoclasm is celebrated
annually by the Orthodox Church on the first Sunday of Lent. This
"Feast of Orthodoxy" commemorates the final restoration of
images (11 March, 843).
The Byzantinization.
But if Orthodox devotional art received its definitive form during the
Byzantine period, so did the entire liturgical life of the Church. That
the see of Constantinople should have played the crucial and determining
role in this "process of Byzantinization" is not surprising.
Historically, before its rise to political prominence in the fourth
century, Constantinople was only a minor bishopric without any
liturgical tradition of its own. Its liturgical life, as such, was
gradually formed from other local liturgical elements and traditions.
Older liturgical centers such as Antioch and Jerusalem made major
contributions to this process. Also involved in the building up of this
"Byzantine rite" was the city's resident imperial court with
its own elaborate ceremonial. By the ninth century, given
Constantinople's growing importance in the Church, this new liturgical
synthesis became the standard and eventually replaced all other local
rites within the Church. The liturgy and the whole cycle of divine
services, such as compline, vespers, etc., used today in the Orthodox
world, is substantially identical with the original Byzantine rite of
Constantinople.
The Influence of Monasticism.
The two areas just described - liturgy and iconography -
would be inconceivable without the contribution of Byzantine monasticism.
The victory of the Church against iconoclasm, for example, was
essentially the work of Byzantine monks, whereas the liturgical
regulations governing the cycle of Orthodox services today is entirely
monastic. Indeed, the impact of monasticism on Orthodox Christianity was
all encompassing and far-reaching. Monasticism as a permanent
institution did not exist before the fourth century. Its institutional
origins will not be found in any single specific directive of the Lord
or in any particular passage of the New Testament. Its foundations, all
the same, are rooted in the totality of the Gospel message - the source
of both its strength and its fertility. Behind the physical withdrawal
into the desert or a monastery lies the renunciation of the world and of
Satan to which every Christian commits himself at baptism. This
renunciation is a basic condition to being a Christian. The monastic
vocation and mentality, in sum, is intimately bound up with the
baptismal vow. Entering a monastery is simply another means by which
some have chosen to live the absolute ideal of the Gospel. For many,
this may seem an extreme way to follow Christ, and yet all Christians,
whether in or outside the monastery, are ultimately called to the same
renunciation, the same perfection, the same fulfillment of the Gospel.
The personal search for holiness is not the monk's special preserve.
It is because of its essentially Christian goals, then, that asceticism
spread and influenced Orthodox spirituality, prayer, piety, and general
Church life. Besides, the Church itself sponsored and promoted it,
having intuitively recognized its unique charismatic ministry,
usefulness, and potential for holiness. We have already noted its
contributions to the Church in two areas. Less well known, perhaps, is
the fact that the Church recruited its episcopate exclusively from the
countless monastic communities dotting the Byzantine countryside. One
monastery on Mt. Athos, for example, in addition to producing 144
bishops, provided the Church with 26 patriarchs. Indeed, virtually two
thirds of the patriarchs of Constantinople between the ninth and the
thirteenth centuries were monastics. But the charismatic and
eschatological witness of monasticism was crucial. As the established
faith of the Byzantine Empire, the Church was often in danger of
identifying itself with the state, of becoming too worldly and losing
its eschatological dimension. Fortunately, the monastic presence was
always there to remind the Church of its true nature and identity with
another Kingdom. Its fierce opposition to any compromise of the
Christian vision was possibly the single most important factor in the
Church's survival and independence.
Church and State.
The Byzantine Church has often been described as a "state" or
"national" Church. This observation, however, is entirely
misleading, not to say offensive. True, the Byzantine world became more
Greek linguistically and geographically as a result of the defection of
the non-Greek speaking areas of Syria and Egypt during the period of the
ecumenical councils. Additionally, the schism between Eastern and
Western Christendom further isolated and confined Christian Byzantium.
These losses were, undeniably, considerable and tragic, both for the
Church and the empire. As a matter of fact, however, although the Church
is "eastern" by virtue of its geography, above all, in its
theology and tradition, it is Catholic and Orthodox. Historically,
moreover, the Byzantine Church itself was never so confined or isolated
as the Byzantine Empire. The vigor of its missionary drive in Eastern
Europe and the Slavic world, shortly after the iconoclastic controversy,
is eloquent evidence to the contrary.
The Conversion of the Slavs.
This evangelization or Christianization of the Slavs was initiated by
one of Byzantium's most learned churchmen - the Patriarch Photius. His
choice of the brothers Cyril and Methodius for the mission was a stroke
of genius and missionary insight, for both spoke the Slavic dialect then
in use among the Slavic settlers near their native city of Thessalonica.
Having received their commission, they immediately set about creating a
Slavic alphabet, the so-called Cyrillic, in which they then translated
the Scripture and the liturgy. Hence, the origins of Church Slavonic,
the common liturgical language still used by the Russian Orthodox Church
and other Slavic Orthodox Christians. Although their first mission to
Moravia was unsuccessful (they were forced to flee by German
missionaries and the changing political situation in Moravia), their
work was not in vain. Soon Byzantine missionaries, including the exiled
disciples of the two brothers, turned to other areas. As a result, by
the beginning of the eleventh century most of the pagan Slavic world,
including Russia, Bulgaria and Serbia, had been won for Byzantine
Christianity. Bulgaria was officially recognized as a patriarchate by
Constantinople in 945, Serbia in 1346, and Russia in 1589. All these
nations, however, had been converted long before these dates. The
conversion of Russia, for example, began with the baptism of Vladimir of
Kiev in 989, on which occasion he was also married to the Byzantine
princess Anna, the sister of the Byzantine Emperor Basil II.
The Orthodox Commonwealth.
But this expansion into the Slavic world also created an
Orthodox "Commonwealth." For Byzantine art, literature, and
culture were no longer confined within Byzantium's own political
frontiers, but extended far beyond into the Balkans and the north of
Russia to create a single Byzantine Orthodox commonwealth. The Slavic
nations, in sum, were not only Christianized, but civilized by the
Byzantines.The saving message of the New Testament was also accompanied
by the gift of civilization. This was understandably a major factor in
the formation and future development of Slavic culture. But if the
conversion of the Slavs was pivotal in the destiny of the young Slavic
nations it was equally decisive for the future of the Church. It was, in
the main, this missionary vigor which preserved Byzantine Christianity's
universality. The inclusion of Slavic Orthodoxy into the Orthodox fold
permanently enlarged the Church's area of geographic distribution.
Equally, the Slavic element brought immense riches into the Church's
midst. Few people, perhaps, have embraced the Orthodox faith with such
ardor and devotion as the Slavs have. How poor the Church would be today
without its host of Slavic saints, its Startski, its Dostoyevsky's, its
Khomiakov's, or Florovsky's!
East and West.
Finally, this chapter of Church history also serves to demonstrate
another major point. Whereas Western Christianity at this time was
zealously imposing a uniform Latin liturgical language on all its
converts, Byzantine Christianity refused to do so. Generally, Greek was
seldom used as a missionary language among the Slavs. On the contrary,
the principle of a single liturgical language was avoided. Hence, the
Cyrillic alphabet and liturgy which employed the vernacular language of
the peoples created native-speaking Churches in the Balkans and
elsewhere. Orthodox Christianity, in sum, insisted on preaching the
Gospel in the ordinary language of the people so as to be directly and
immediately understood by the new converts. And that, after all, is the
ultimate goal of Christian mission. In the history of Orthodoxy, this
legacy of the "Apostles to the Slavs," Saints Cyril and
Methodius, is among the most precious.
The preceding section has provided a survey, not exhaustive but
sufficient for our purposes, of the Church's Byzantine period. Before
examining the long Turkish domination that followed the fall of
Constantinople, we need to explore one final event in the life of the
medieval Church - the schism between Eastern and Western Christianity.
To begin with, this tragic division was not an event, but a prolonged
process stretching over centuries. The cracks and fissures in Christian
unity are indeed visible as early as the fourth century. As such, 1054,
the traditional date marking the beginning of the schism and the
excommunication of patriarch Michael Cerularius by papal legates, is
highly inaccurate.
There is, in fact, no precise date. What really happened was a complex
chain of events whose climax was only reached in the thirteenth century
with the sack of Constantinople by western Crusaders (1204). Equally, we
need to remember that the events leading to schism were not always
exclusively theological in nature. Cultural, political, and linguistic
differences were often inextricably mixed with the theological. Any
narrative of the schism which emphasizes one at the expense of the other
will be both fragmentary and misleading. Unlike the Copts or Armenians
who broke from the Church in the fifth century and established ethnic
churches at the cost of their universality and catholicity, the eastern
and western parts of the Church remained loyal to the faith and
authority of the seven ecumenical councils. They were united, by virtue
of their common faith and tradition, in one Church. The transfer of the
Roman capital to the Bosporus inevitably brought mistrust, rivalry, and
even jealousy to the relations of the two great sees, Rome and
Constantipole. It was easy for Rome to be jealous of the
"upstart" Constantinople at a time when it was rapidly losing
its political prominence. In fact, Rome refused to recognize the
conciliar legislation which promoted Constantinople to second rank. But
the estrangement was also helped along by the German invasions in the
West, which effectively weakened contacts. The rise of Islam with its
conquest of most of the Mediterranean coastline (not to mention the
arrival of the pagan Slavs in the Balkans at the same time) further
intensified this separation by driving a physical wedge between the two
worlds. The once homogenous unified world of the Mediterranean was fast
vanishing. Communications between the Greek East and the Latin West had
now become dangerous and, as a consequence, practically ceased.
The Photian Schism.
The gap widened further in the ninth century when the missionary
ambitions of the two communions clashed over the Christianization of
Bulgaria and Moravia. The election of Patriarch Photius even caused a
temporary division, known as the "Photian Schism." But it is
the coronation of Charlemagne as emperor by the pope, and the revival in
800 of a western "Roman" Empire which best illustrate how far
the gulf had widened. In the eyes of Constantinople, the West was acting
as if the Roman Empire, with its legitimate emperor in Constantinople,
had ceased to exist. The Byzantine Empire's claims to world sovereignty,
title to which was never surrendered, were being ignored. Charlemagne's
new "Empire" was usurping the legitimate role of the Roman
Empire in Constantinople. Such a declaration of independence and
emancipation from Byzantium seemed to threaten the unity of Christendom
and, indirectly, the shared faith of the one Church. Subsequent events,
such as the Norman conquest of southern Italy, the Crusades, the Italian
commercial penetration of the Bosporus and the Black Sea were to be
added to the already lengthy list of differences and disagreements. They
suffice, however, to demonstrate how deep the alienation had become.
Indeed, these events have often been viewed as the ultimate cause
of schism.
And yet, popular as these causes are in conventional historical analyses
of the schism, they do not alone explain the breach or square with the
historical facts. Today these causes no longer exist, yet the schism
continues. We must, therefore, search for the ultimate root of schism in
the intellectual and theological differences rather than in the
political or geographical ones. Two basic problems - the primacy of the
bishop of Rome and the procession of the Holy Spirit - were involved.
These doctrinal novelties (for this is how the Byzantines perceived
them) were first discussed openly in Photius' patriarchate. By the fifth
century, as we have said, Christendom was divided into five sees with
Rome holding the primacy. This was determined by canonical and juridical
decision, and did not entail hegemony of any one local Church or
patriarchate over the others. For all that, during the progressive
alienation noted above, Rome began to interpret her primacy in terms of
sovereignty, as a God-given right involving universal jurisdiction in
the Church. The collegial and conciliar nature of the Church, in effect,
was gradually abandoned in favor of a supremacy of unlimited power over
the entire Church. These ideas were, finally, given systematic
expression in the West during the Gregorian Reform movement of the
eleventh century. Enough has been said about early ecclesiology to
realize how much Rome's understanding of the nature of episcopal power
was in direct violation of the Church's essentially democratic
structure. The two ecclesiologies were mutually antithetical. No wonder
subsequent attempts to heal the schism and bridge the tragic division
would fail. To be sure, Rome based her monarchical claims to "true
and proper jurisdiction," as the Vatican Council of 1870 put it, on
St. Peter. This basis, however, was unknown to the Fathers who had ruled
on the Church's organization. Specifically, they were aware that St.
Peter's primacy could not be the exclusive prerogative of any one
bishop. For all bishops must, like St. Peter, confess Jesus as the
Christ. This being so, they are all Peter's successors and St. Peter is
simply their prototype. To believe otherwise would be to violate the
bishops' charismatic equality. For no one can hold a position superior
to that of the others.
The Great Schism.
Equally disturbing to the eastern Church was the western interpretation
of the procession of the Holy Spirit. This too, like the primacy,
developed only gradually and entered the Creed in the West almost
unnoticed. The dispute is theologically too complex to discuss here.
Suffice it say that it involved the addition by the West of the Latin
phrase filioque ("and from the Son") to the Creed. The
original Creed sanctioned by the councils and still used by the Orthodox
Church did not contain this phrase; the text simply states "the
Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of Life, proceeds from the Father."
Theologically, the Latin interpolation "and from the Son" was
unacceptable to the Byzantines, since it implied that the Spirit now had
two sources of procession, the Father and the Son, rather than one, the
Father alone. In short, the balance between the three persons of the
Trinity was altered. The result, the Byzantines believed, was false and
heretical. But in addition to the dogmatic issue raised by the filioque,
the Byzantines argued that the word was added unilaterally and,
therefore, illegitimately, since the East had never been consulted. In
the final analysis, only another ecumenical council could make such an
alteration. Besides, the councils which drew up the original Creed had
expressly forbidden any subtraction or addition to the text. The West's
tampering with the major creedal formula of the Church was, therefore,
unacceptable.
C. THE CAPTIVE CHURCH
The Ottoman Conquest.
In general, the fall of Constantinople in 1453 was a great misfortune
for Christianity. For Eastern Christendom it was nothing less than an
unqualified disaster. As a result of the Ottoman conquest, the entire
Orthodox communion of the Balkans and the Near East was suddenly
isolated from the West. For the next four hundred years it would instead
be confined within a hostile Islamic world, with which it had little in
common either religiously or culturally. Orthodox Russia alone escaped
this fate. It is this geographical and intellectual confinement which,
in part, explains Orthodoxy's silence during the Reformation in
sixteenth century Europe. That this important theological debate should
often seem distorted to the Orthodox is not surprising: they never took
part in it. And yet, it is not the isolation alone, as much as the
consequences of Ottoman rule, that make these pages of Church history so
bleak and melancholy from virtually every point of view.
Religious Rights Under Islam.
To be sure, the new Ottoman government that arose from the
ashes of Byzantine civilization was neither primitive nor altogether
barbaric. Islam not only recognized Jesus as a great prophet, but
tolerated Christians as another People of the Book. As such, the Church
was not extinguished nor was its canonical and hierarchical organization
significantly disrupted. Besides, its administration continued to
function. One of the first things that Mehmet the Conqueror did was to
allow the Church to elect a new patriarch, Gennadius Scholarius. The Hagia
Sophia and the Parthenon, which had been Christian churches for
nearly a millennium were, admittedly, converted into mosques, yet
countless other churches, both in the City and elsewhere, remained in
Christian hands. Moreover, it is striking that the patriarch's and the
hierarchy's position was considerably strengthened and their power
increased. They were now endowed with civil as well as ecclesiastical
power over all Christians in Ottoman territories. Because Islamic law
makes no distinction between nationality and religion, all Christians,
regardless of their language or nationality, were viewed as a single millet
or nation. The patriarch, as the highest ranking hierarch, was thus
invested with civil and religious authority and made ethnarch, or
head of the entire Christian Orthodox population. Practically, this
meant that all Orthodox Churches within Ottoman territory were under
Constantinople. The authority and jurisdictional frontiers of the
patriarch, in short, were enormously enlarged.
In the final analysis, all these rights and privileges, including
freedom of worship and religious organization, seldom corresponded to
reality. It is not "rights" but cruel facts that stare us in
the face. The legal privileges of the patriarch and the Church depended,
in fact, on the whim and mercy of the Sultan and the Sublime Porte,
while Christians were viewed as little more than second class citizens
or infidels. Moreover, Turkish corruption and brutality, about which our
textbooks wax so eloquently, were not a myth. That it was the
"infidel" Christian who experienced this more than anyone else
is not in doubt. Nor were pogroms of Christians in these centuries
unknown. Devastating, too, for the Church was the fact that it could not
bear witness to Christ. Missionary work among Moslems was dangerous and
indeed impossible, whereas conversion to Islam was entirely legal and
permissible. On the other hand, converts to Islam who returned to
Orthodoxy were automatically put to death. Of a piece with this
situation was the fact that new churches could not be built and even the
ringing of church bells was not allowed. Finally, the education of the
clergy and the Christian population fared no better - it either ceased
or was of a rudimentary kind.
The Results of Corruption.
It was likewise the Church's fate to be affected by the Turkish system
of corruption. The patriarchal throne was frequently sold to the highest
bidder, while new patriarchal investiture was accompanied by heavy
payment to the government. In order to recoup these enormous losses,
patriarchs and bishops taxed the local parishes and their clergy. Nor
was the patriarchal throne ever secure. Few patriarchs between the
fifteenth and the twentieth century died a natural death while in
office. The forced abdications, exiles, hangings, drownings, and
poisonings of patriarchs are all too well documented. But if the
patriarch's position was precarious so was the hierarchy's. The hanging
of patriarch Gregory V from the gate of the patriarchate on Easter
Sunday 1821 was accompanied by the execution of two metropolitans and
twelve bishops. (The gate, incidentally, still remains closed in St.
Gregory's memory.) The above summary - stark and short as it is - is
sufficient to convey the persecution, decay, and humiliation that
Eastern Christendom suffered under Ottoman rule. If we add to this
tragic fate the militant communist atheism under which most Orthodox
have lived since 1917, we get some sense of the dislocation and
suffering of Eastern Christianity in the last five hundred years. The
grave problems that western Christians have had to face as a result of
the French Revolution and the secularization of western society in
general might be said to pale against these facts. That the captive
Eastern Church has retained its identity and survived is nothing short
of miraculous. It is to the credit of the Orthodox that they have
remained faithful to the saving faith of Christ.
Papacy and Orthodoxy.
Along with these conditions, mention should finally be made
of Rome's proselytizing pressure. Evidence for this phenomenon is
appallingly plentiful. Missionaries were prepared in special schools
such as the College of St. Athanasius in Rome (opened in 1577) and then
sent to the East in order to engage in direct proselytizing of the
Orthodox. This network of open Roman propaganda also embraced the
Orthodox Slavic world. The pressure of the Catholic Polish monarchy and
Jesuits in Poland and Lithuania on Orthodox dioceses canonically
dependent on Constantinople is well enough known. For example, the Uniat
Ukrainian Church was, in part, the result of such pressure through
the Union of Brest-Litovsk in 1596. There was, of course, little that
the Orthodox Church could do to counter this aggressive Romanization,
given the historical situation.
Such, then, were the severe and humiliating restrictions under which the
Church was forced to live until the early nineteenth century. The part
played by the ecumenical
patriarchate, as spiritual head and "Mother Church," in
this and the preceding chapter of its history was decisive. This was
due, as we have seen, to the preeminent position of the city of
Constantinople in the Byzantine period, when its bishop acquired a rank
second only to Rome in the pentarchy. But it was also a result of the
schism with Rome. The schism left Constantinople with undisputed primacy
over the other eastern patriarchates. This is how Constantinople became
the primary see of Orthodoxy. Finally, under the Ottoman ethnarchic
system its geographic frontiers were enlarged, with the result that most
of the Orthodox community came under its jurisdiction. How the patriarch
of Constantinople became the senior bishop in Orthodoxy is
understandably one of the great themes of Orthodox Church history.
Nineteenth century militant nationalism, however, was to introduce vast
changes. Although the patriarchate's primatial status has never been in
question - it is, and remains, the first see of Orthodoxy - its
geographical frontiers were considerably reduced as a result of the
struggle for freedom undertaken by the various Orthodox nationalities
under Ottoman rule. The new independent nation states could not remain
ecclesiastically under the jurisdiction of a patriarch who was still
within the orbit of the foreign and hostile government of Turkey.
Constantinople and Modern National
Churches.
One of the earliest nations to be influenced by the French Revolution's
explosive ideas was Greece; it was the first to break the Turkish yoke,
winning its independence early in the century. Shortly afterwards a
synod of bishops declared the Church of the new Kingdom of Greece
autocephalous. The new Greek nation, in short, could not be headed by
the patriarch. Indeed, Greece's autocephalous status, recognized by
Constantinople in 1850, meant that it could now elect its own head or kephale.
Thus, the Church of Greece is today governed by a Holy Synod presided
over by the Archbishop of Athens. Mt. Athos and the semiautonomous
Church of Crete alone remain under the patriarch's jurisdiction. The
island of Cyprus, however, is independent of both Constantinople and the
Church of Greece. Its autonomous status dates from the third ecumenical
council (431) which accorded it this unique position. Up to that time,
it had been subject to the patriarchate of Antioch. Like Greece, this
ancient Church is governed by a synod of bishops and a presiding
archbishop.
As we have seen, the ethnarchic system introduced by the Ottomans
brought most of the autocephalous and patriarchal Slavic Churches under
the jurisdiction of Constantinople. This subjection, with its loss of
patriarchal status, was never popular. As a result, several independent
national Churches came into being once political freedom was achieved.
For example, the Church of Serbia, which had lost its patriarchate in
the Turkish period, became autocephalous in 1879, and its head was
recognized as patriarch by Constantinople in 1922. Romania, today the
largest self-governing Church after Russia, was declared autocephalous
in 1885 and became a patriarchate in 1925. Finally, the Church of
Bulgaria declared itself autocephalous in 1860, but it was not until
1945 that Constantinople recognized it and its metropolitan in Sofia
assumed the title of patriarch in 1953. Russia, which was outside the
Turkish fold, was recognized a patriarchate by Constantinople in 1589.
Nevertheless, this too, was eventually abolished, but not by
Constantinople. Peter the Great replaced it by a governing Synod in
1721. The Synodal Period that followed lasted until the Bolshevik
Revolution, when the patriarchate was once again restored (1917). Today,
Russia ranks fifth after the four ancient patriarchates of
Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem.
The Ancient Patriarchates.
But the ancient sees of the Near East also achieved greater freedom as a
result of the breakup of the Ottoman Empire. For these, too, were often
under the influence of Constantinople during the period of Turkish
captivity. Despite the defection of Egypt in the fifth century because
it refused to accept the fourth ecumenical council and created a
national Coptic Church, the patriarchate of Alexandria continued to
survive. The ancient title of the patriarch is still "pope and
patriarch" an eloquent illustration that the designation of
"pope" was never the exclusive privilege of the bishop of Rome
in the ancient Church. Today, the patriarch and the clergy of this see
are Greek. Significantly, its jurisdiction extends over all Orthodox on
the African continent. A flourishing Orthodox Church now exists, for
example, in Uganda. Antioch, which was one of the largest cities of the
Roman Empire, now ranks third after Constantinople.
It consists of Arabic-speaking orthodox Christians living in Syria and
Lebanon. Until the late nineteenth century its patriarch and bishops
were Greek, but since 1899 they have been Arabs. Jerusalem has been an
independent patriarchate since the fifth century. Unlike Antioch, its
patriarch is Greek although its faithful are for the most part Arabs.
This venerable see is the guardian and protector of the Holy Places. On
the whole, the strength of these ancient sees has been sapped by
continuous submission to Islam.
The New Structure.
It is plain from what has been said about nineteenth century
developments that the authority enjoyed by Constantinople today is no
longer based on any vast ecclesiastical jurisdiction. In the last
century and a half it has been stripped both of its former territories
and most of its flock. Greece and the Balkans are no longer under its
jurisdiction. Inside Turkey itself, moreover, most of the Orthodox
Christian communities of Asia Minor have disappeared. The patriarch's
immediate flock today is, in the main, composed of those Orthodox still
living in Constantinople. The patriarchate's position, therefore, rests
on its primatial status, rather than on any wide territorial
jurisdiction. No less striking is the fact that the Church, like the
ancient Church, is essentially a decentralized body consisting of four
ancient patriarchates and numerous local or national Churches, most of
which enjoy full self-governing status. The Orthodox community of
Churches is decidedly not a monolithic structure. Despite the lack of a
centralized authority, however, all members of this living body are
bound together by a common canonical and liturgical tradition, by a
single doctrinal and sacramental unity, and a common faith stretching
back to the original Christian nucleus of Apostolic times. Behind the
historical reality, in short, lies the true Catholic and universal
Church. In Christian history, catholicity has never been coextensive
with organizational or institutional uniformity.
D. THE MODERN CHURCH
Orthodoxy and Modern Ideology.
The tragedy of the Orthodox Church in the twentieth century has been to
live - the largest portion of its flock, at least - under the new
political framework of atheistic totalitarianism. The dislocation of
communism is indeed the latest in a long line of misfortunes - Arabic,
Seljuk, Crusader, Mongol, Ottoman - with which it has had to cope in the
last millennium and a half. As St. Paul observes, "it was given to
us not only to believe in Christ but also to suffer for him" (Phil.
1:29). There is, however, one significant difference between this latest
crisis and those of the past: the previous non-Christian political
regimes under which the Church has had to live were never deliberately
anti-Christian. In sum, there has never been an exact precedent for the
communist catastrophe. None of the past regimes were ever as insistent
as communism in its belief that religion must not be tolerated.
According to Lenin, a communist regime cannot remain neutral on the
question of religion but must show itself to be merciless towards it.
There is, in effect, no place for the church in Lenin's classless
society.
Confrontation with Atheistic
Regimes.
The result of this militant atheism has been to transform the
Church into a persecuted and martyred Church. Thousands of bishops,
monks, clergy, and faithful have died martyrs' deaths for Christ over
the last fifty years, both in Russia and in the other communist nations.
Their numbers may well exceed the Christians who perished under the
Roman Empire. Equally frightening for the Church has been communism's
indirect, but systematic, strangulation policy. In the Soviet Union, for
example, in addition to the methodical closing, desecration, and
destruction of churches, ecclesiastical authorities are not allowed to
carry on any charitable or social work. Nor, for that matter, may the
Church own property. The few places of worship left to the Church are
legally viewed as state property which the government permits the Church
to use. More devastating still for the Church, and indeed for its
future, is that it is not permitted to carry on educational or
instructional activity of any kind. Outside of sermons and the
celebration of the liturgy it cannot instruct the faithful or its youth.
Catechism classes, religious schools, study groups, Sunday Schools,
religious publications are all illegal. Of the four thousand schools
operated by the Russian Church before World War I not one remains today.
Though these conditions vary among the different communist nations the
general picture remains the same. The future of the Church is, to say
the least, bleak.
Orthodoxy and Immigration.
One of the most striking developments in modern historical Orthodoxy is
the dispersion of orthodox Christians to the West. Emigration from
Greece and the Near East in the last hundred years has, in fact, created
a sizable Orthodox diaspora in Western Europe, North and South America,
and Australia. In addition, the Bolshevik Revolution forced thousands of
Orthodox Russian exiles westward. As a result, Orthodoxy's traditional
frontiers have been profoundly modified. Millions of Orthodox are no
longer "eastern" since they live permanently in their newly
adopted countries in the West. Virtually all the Orthodox nationalities
- Greek, Arab, Russian, Serbian, Albanian, Ukrainian, Rumanian,
Bulgarian - are represented in the United States. To describe them all
is beyond the scope of this short survey. Rather, only the largest of
these Orthodox diaspora groups will be mentioned, namely the
Greek
Archdiocese of America, with two million faithful. Under the
guidance of several dedicated archbishops, the Greek diaspora has
matured into a vital and active Church and plays a dominant role in the
lives of millions of Greek Orthodox
Christians. Significantly, the Archdiocese is under the ecclesiastical
and spiritual jurisdiction of the ecumenical Patriarch
of Constantinople. Indeed, the senior See in Orthodoxy possesses
jurisdiction over a large portion of the Orthodox diaspora now in
existence. Besides the Archdiocese of North and South America, there is
also the Exarchate of Western Europe, centered in London (with numerous
parishes and bishops on the continent), and the Church of Finland and
well as Australia. Smaller groups in the United States, such as the
Carpatho-Russian and Ukrainian dioceses, are likewise under the ecumenical
patriarchate.
The Orthodox Church in the West.
Historically, 1768 marks the arrival of the first Greek
Orthodox to the New World. These pioneers founded the colony of New
Smyrna some forty miles south of St. Augustine, Florida. A small group
of New Orleans Greek merchants built the first church in 1864. The Greek
Archdiocese of North and South America itself was official
incorporated by the State of New York in 1921. The complicated and
difficult task of organizing and consolidating the Greek communities
into a centralized Archdiocese was the work of three far-sighted
leaders: Archbishop Athenagoras, who was elected to the ecumenical
throne of Constantinople in 1948; Archbishop Michael, the former bishop
of Corinth; and his successor and present spiritual head, Archbishop
Iakovos. In addition to its diverse philanthropic work, the Archdiocese
maintains numerous day-schools, a home for the aged, and an academy for
deprived and orphan children. Candidates for the priesthood are trained
at the Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology in Boston. Mention
should also be made of the second largest diaspora group, the Russian.
It, too, trains its own clergy at its St. Vladimir's Orthodox
Theological Seminary, which also receives candidates from all the
Orthodox jurisdictions. Both institutions, moreover, maintain their own
press and publish their own theological quarterly; in addition, they
issue a large number of useful and important books in English on various
aspects of Orthodox theology, history, and spirituality. Finally, both
seminaries possess a distinguished faculty with an international
reputation.
Historical circumstances, then, have provided Orthodoxy in the West with
the unique opportunity to bear witness to its universality and essential
truth. For despite its historical eastern homeland the Orthodox Church
has never claimed to be anything less than universal in its essence.
True, the rigid segregation and self-sufficiency of some Orthodox
frequently give the opposite impression. All the same, the Orthodox are
becoming increasingly aware that they must overcome both their isolation
and inclination to live apart from each other and from other Christian
brethren. How else, indeed, can the strength and unity of Orthodox truth
be revealed if not through a common witness? The subordination of
national ambitions and local loyalties is highly desirable and
necessary. Archbishop Iakovos' recent observations on this point were on
target: "We rarely give the impression of united orthodoxy as we
should, and as others expect of us. They think (and not wrongly) that we
are first Greeks, Russians, Serbs, Rumanians, Bulgarians, Arabs or
Ukrainians and then Orthodox. We often deny ourselves the honor to speak
as Orthodox and to demonstrate our theological and ecclesiastical unity
and identity.'' (Orthodox
Observer, 21 Sept. 1983, p. 2) These remarks were in reference to
Orthodoxy's relationship and participation in the ecumenical movement
and the World Council of Churches. It is a timely subject with which to
draw the threads of our survey together.
Orthodoxy and the Ecumenical
Movement.
Orthodoxy believes that it possesses both the unity and the faith which
alone will produce the reunion all Christians seek. It is also at the
same time painfully aware of the scandal of Christian division. Hence
two major reasons for its active role, since the 1920s, in the
ecumenical movement and in the later World Council of Churches, founded
at Amsterdam in 1948. From the movement's very inception it was,
significantly, the ecumenical
Patriarchate which took the initiative and leadership by supporting
a policy of full participation. That numerous other jurisdictions
followed suit is, in some measure, due to its encouragement and
affirmative attitude.
Not all Orthodox, it is true, are of one mind about this policy.
Some, understandably, believe that the Orthodox idea of the Church is
incompatible with the confessional ecclesiology which often dominates
the World Council. In some respects, of course, this is true. Thus, the
Protestant notion that the historic aggregation of separated churches
are separations in the Church itself is totally unacceptable to the
Orthodox. As one distinguished Orthodox theologian notes, this line of
Protestant reasoning negates all that the Orthodox hold about the
Church's unity and sacramental fullness. For all of that, the Church has
chosen to participate in the ecumenical fellowship because of the Lord's
command to love all our fellowmen, whether divided or not. The primacy
of love is precisely just that. Moreover, participation implies neither
equality with our Protestant brethren, nor compromise on our part. On
the contrary, we are there for dialogue as well as to bear witness to
the only common background, and indeed common ground, on which all
genuine Christian unity must be founded. As the Orthodox statement at
the Evanston Assembly of 1954 states, it is to "the faith of the
ancient, united and indivisible Church of the seven ecumenical councils,
namely to the pure and unchanged and common heritage of the forefathers
of all divided Christians" that we bear witness. The late Georges
Florovsky never ceased stressing that the search for Christian unity
should be a "noble and blessed endeavor." Most Orthodox would
agree.
SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING
The first three works (all currently available as inexpensive
paperbacks) contain readable, scholarly introductions to Eastern
Orthodox history and theology. The last four titles contain more
detailed analyses of Orthodox doctrine.
J. Meyendorff, The Orthodox Church: Its Past and Role in the World
Today (London, 1962).
A. Schmemann, The Historical Road of Eastern Orthodoxy (Chicago,
1966).
T. Ware, The Orthodox Church (Penguin Books, 1963).
V. Lossky, The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church (James
Clark; London, 1957).
J. Meyendorff, Byzantine Theology: Historical Trends and Doctrinal
Themes (Fordham University Press; New York, 1974).
A. Papadakis, Crisis in Byzantium: The Filioque Controversy in the
Patriarchate of Gregory II of Cyprus (1283-1289) (Fordham University
Press; New York, 1983).
J. Pelikan, The Spirit of Eastern Christendom (600-1700)(The
University of Chicago Press; Chicago and London, 1977).
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